Resident Evil Damnation
by Shakahnna
Summary: Mercilessly stalking Albert Wesker and his Machiavellian schemes through the course of his life and bringing to light the horror that comes from Umbrella's broken moral compass. Pre RE0 spanning until present day, justice is brutal. Chapter 61 up!
1. Chapter 1 The enemy within

Foreword.

This story has been in the works since about 1998 or so when RE3 came out. Shakahnna being a character of mine for longer than I can member, although she has had many names over the years, Pamela Lawson among others. Wrote a story allot about her in my second year of high school and the character was born. I think every author puts a bit of themselves and/or the people they love in whatever they write. Hopefully the people who read this story will also recognize both the good and bad that they and the characters are capable of while reading this.

Allot has changed since I started with this idea in my head like just as resident evil 3 was coming out. I've always been one of those people who is … well paranoid. Even now if I play resident evil before going to sleep I end up seeing Forest Speyer hiding in my closet and keep my co-writer up half the night. I sleep with a knife under my pillow and graveyards make me nervous. But that aside Resident Evil still has a certain allure to it that I just can't resist it. Which if you are here then you probably feel too. RE however is quite a dark story. You can't save most of the people you meet and you have to murder hundreds of innocent people unfortunate enough to fall victim to the virus. Not happy. Originally the whole story up to and into the mansion was only 60 pages or so long but we started from scratch and now it's… just ever so slightly longer than that. Resident Evil is like 90 of the events that go on with of course a few twists and turns here and there.

Oh the MK side, Mortal Kombat plays a very limited role here, I mean MK is pretty much which helped me get everything good in my life and thus it would be hard to write anything without it at least making an apperance. There are very few MK characters and for those people who are completely unfamiliar with the MK universe everything IS explained, you might just need to wait awhile for everything to fit into place ;)

About the story, This basically is following around Albert Wesker. Because he is without a doubt the greatest villain that there is (except in CVX when he lets Claire Redfield go. SHAME ON YOU CAPCOM!) apart from that Wesker is utterly delightful. We have our version of events here. But Wesker is pretty much the main character.

Trying to create real characters, ones that the reader gets to know and the idea being that when they are taken and placed into the situations, you'll be able to relate more closely to them. Too many stories rush into situations where the people are in danger, you never see them during a regular day. Hopefully you'll find this enjoyable enough to stick with the characters to watch them take life and see how they react to their world going to hell. These are consistent characters they will act hopefully how you expect them to. Like I totally KNEW he was going to do that type thing.

Johnny (my co-author and person who attempted to stop words like be's and "please may I want to have its" appearing cause he fixed all the grammer stuff. So if there are any mistake mail him not, I don't care. Long as there be's fullstops that is fine with me :D) He's also my husband now so erm… I get my way allot. Hense the be'd, gotted and be's. Johnny has several ideas and did allot of work towards the story. Allot of the Wesker chapters came from him and the rest he at least partial wrote with me. Johnny is very talented.

Sadly while we seriously got to writing my grandmother passed away. She was a wonderful person and it's kinda corny to dedicate fan fiction but what the hell. This is for my gran. Sorry you never got to meet Johnny and the world is definitely worse off for you not being here.

Johnny declined to want to say anything.

So if you are looking for an intelligent and well written piece that will keep you gunning for more, then I would hope you have found it. Enjoy!

All RE characters are property of capcom and all MK characters are property of Ed Boon and Midway. All the other copy right stuff here.

Any feedback will be gratefully received.

Jasmine

* * *

August 14th, 1995

"EMERGENCY IN LEVEL THREE... SECURITY PERSONNEL PLEASE RESPOND... EMERGENCY IN LEVEL THREE... SECURITY PERSONNEL PLEASE RESPONSE...".

The voice over the speakers was calm, simply because it belonged to that of a computerized monitor rather than a human. If it wasn't for the earsplitting tone that was being used to convey the message, one would think that nothing was wrong because the tone of the female voice was actually rather friendly, sort of like a smiling employee who meets a client for the first time. But everyone in the underground facility knew better from experience alone.

Albert Wesker raced down the pure-white colored hallway, followed by two similarly dressed security guards who were several steps behind him. He sharply twisted the right side of his upper body backwards in an effort to avoid a scientist in a lab coat who was blindly rushing away from the direction that the guard was hurrying towards. But he only partially succeeded. The scientist's lowered head slammed into his right shoulder anyway, and the other man continued in his aimless direction as he staggered for two more steps before tripping and falling flat on his face. Sharp pain traveled from Wesker's right shoulder to the rest of his torso.

He didn't bother wasting time by screaming from the pain in his upper body, nor by swearing at the man for delaying him for an extra second during a scene when time was very crucial. But he also knew he couldn't ignore the man who had partially slammed into him, not as a high-ranking security member of Umbrella's strike force. Struggling to maintain his footing, Wesker turned his head behind him and to the right to glance at the fallen man. Seeing that the confused scientist didn't have any dark red blood stains on his back, and not remembering having seen any on his front for the instant before they collided, Wesker turned back when he noticed that the scientist was still moving, and thus wasn't mortally wounded.

Some of the many medical employees and security staff who were following him would surely tend to anyone who was able to distance him or herself from the source of the emergency. So the ever diligent guard, he forced himself to not swear out loud due to nearly have his sunglasses knocked off his face, and resumed his rush towards the source of the trouble. Wesker didn't take long to find it. Whether that was a good thing or not, he could not guess. But his hunt came to a sudden half when he covered twenty more steps down the hallway and ran past half a dozen more hysterical employees in white. Knowing where he needed to be, he stopped, turned to his right and reached into his uniform simultaneously with both hands. His right hand withdrew a .50 caliber Desert Eagle pistol while his left one gripped his ID card.

Bending his right elbow and pointing the weapon towards the ceiling,

Wesker swiped his ID card in the slot available. The massive metal door in front of him gave a friendly acknowledgement of his name and rank and welcomed him into the room. Then the foot-thick door opened sideways and Wesker stepped into a scene that was all too familiar in his line of work.

Two scientists were already dead. One lying motionless on his stomach in the middle of a large pool of his own blood. Another was a few steps away with his head and left arm separated from the rest of his body. On one side of the room was a line of vertical glass tubes, each filled with a liquid and housing a different beast inside. Wet footsteps leading from a broken tube could be seen intercepting the first body, then the second and lastly a third scientist who was the only living person in the room besides Wesker himself.

Only other living person, that is, because a beta hunter was also alive in that room, with its boil-covered back at him as it concentrated on its third target. The hunter had broken out of the tube and caused the havoc facing the security guard who stood at the door. As the last living scientist kept his back in one of the room's corners and was desperately trying to put a metal table between himself and the monster, Wesker leveled his handgun.

"New age unbreakable glass my ass!", he exclaimed as he dropped the ID card on the floor and took aim with both hands.

Three rounds shot out of the muzzle of the handgun and struck the hunter in the back and between its shoulders, all three entering the tough flesh within a two-inch diameter of each other. The hunter's body shook violently with each bullet that invaded it, but it nevertheless remained on its feet, to the chagrin of both humans who were still breathing. Hissing in rage as well as pain, the hunched monster turned away from the scientist and locked eyes with Wesker for a short instant before rushing towards the guard himself. The scientist remained frozen in place as he watched his former pursuer dashing towards armed guard instead, not that he had any training to fight against a hugely stronger opponent even if he had not been frozen in a panic.

Wesker could see the entire incident unfolding before him in slow motion. The creature closed the distance between itself and him very quickly, but he was quicker with his firearm. He had to be, after all. Four more rounds flew out of the weapon and pierced the monster's massive chest and face.

Bloodied and having been forced to slow down, the injured hunter still managed to reach its new human prey and swiped at Wesker's throat with its right arm. The human let go of the firearm with his left hand while retaining the weapon with his right one only. He used the left hand to smoothly grip the hunter's wrist as it was coming down towards his upper body. While two more security guards were heard running behind Wesker, they took sight of the impasse between him and the shorter, but stronger, adversary. As the monster tried to use its right arm against the newest prey, Wesker retained his right grip on the Desert Eagle and swung the weapon in a downward arc, the cold metal crashing into the left side of the hunter's head.

Under ordinary circumstances, a single hit from a human could've never affected a hunter, but seven massive bullet holes had already riddled its body, so the strike knocked it unconscious. It fell motionless on its right side and did not attempt to move again. The two additional guards from behind him entered the room with handguns drawn at the ready, visually scanning the other tubes in an effort to make sure that the rest were not scratched by the creatures inside of them.

Wesker understood why they did not bother checking on the two motionless scientists, as it was unheard of a hunter allowing its prey to survive. The first scientist was most likely dead, and even if he wasn't, the small chance of saving him was not as important as checking the remaining tubes for potential future outbreaks after one had already happened. Besides, he knew that the security staff's job was just that, to make the environment more secure. It was the medical staff's job to try to save the employees' lives after they had been attacked and the threat had been neutralized.

"Are you OK?", he pointed towards the third scientist whose life he had saved.

"Uh, y... yeah", that one finally uttered as he slowly pushed the metal table away from the corner he was huddled against with shaky hands.

Standing one step away from the downed hunter, Wesker first replaced the empty Desert Eagle clip with a fresh one, and then kept his newly-loaded firearm trained on the monster with his right hand as he pressed on an intercom near his shoulder with his left hand.

"Lab number 8 secured", he calmly spoke into it before logging off.

The loud and continuous emergency announcement that was still emerging from the hallway behind him quieted down within a few seconds.

"Don't kill it, p... please", the scientist shakily walked towards him as his weapon was still aimed at the unconscious prototype beast, just in case it should wake back up despite the heavy blood loss it was experiencing as time went on.

"If you say so", Wesker replied as a handful of white-clad scientists entered the lab from behind him, "But you know what they say about a dog that has a taste for human meat".

He placed the safety mechanism for his weapon back on before holstering it as the scientists took hold of the hunter's arms and dragged it back towards the broken tube. Sighing, Wesker first picked his ID card off the floor and turned back towards the entrance to the room, but was greeted by a staff member before having the chance to exit.

That person was distinguished from the majority of people in the compound by the fact that he was wearing neither a scientist's white coat nor a security guard's outfit. Instead, the middle-aged man was dressed in a 3-piece gray business suit, emphasized by the ID card attached to his left breast pocket with the logo of a red and white umbrella on it.

-----------------------------

"I was watching your performance on the security camera. Did you have to use so many rounds?", the man questioned.

"It was only an entire clip", Wesker didn't try to keep the disdain from his voice as he walked around the man and exited anyway, though he did intentionally not add his wish to use the new clip on the person who questioned his way of getting things done.

"The hunter may be permanently disabled, unusable after that", the man hissed.

"Both your scientist and I would've been permanently lifeless if I hadn't taken it down", the guard continued back outside and into the hallway from where he had entered the room.

"You know the cost-benefit priority of the Spencer enterprise!",

Wesker's antagonist angrily followed him outside, "The same employers who pay your salary!".

"Then spend more money on more unbreakable glass to keep the monsters confined, boss", the guard snickered as he continued towards his office, finally leaving the representator from White Umbrella behind.

The plush office looked more like a living space than a work environment as the metal doors disappeared sideways into the wall. While not as powerful as the doors that guarded the lab rooms, these gates were still made of three inch-thick smooth metal, bulky enough to ensure that no human could break through and no one without pre-approved access would make it past them. Even if some of the creatures in the lab could easily break through the doors and get past the security provided for such 'normal' rooms, it was comforting to appreciate that unintelligent monsters wouldn't know how to use the information there anyway.

The security officer sighed, with annoyance as much as with wariness, while he walked in and dropped the firearm on the lavish, 3-person sofa, even as the doors shut behind him. He ignored the paperwork and diagrams of present and potential experiments that were organized in neat sections on his desk, waiting to be reviewed by him so he could study any possible weak points of creatures he may have had to take down in the future. He instead sat down on the right side of the couch next to the weapon and stared at the paintings on his office wall.

This job wasn't getting any less repetitive, he thought to himself as he sighed again. It almost always involved him eradicating or at least restraining an unchained monster, or enforcing a quarantine when a viral outbreak occurred in a lab. Dealing with human scientists was actually shoddier than dealing with unintelligent fiends and ogres, as there was no need for public relations control afterwards.

It was the opening of the metal doors without his approval that regained his attention. The fact that the person walking into his office did not need to announce him/herself before entering meant that he/she was one of the highest-ranking members of the company. Thus, ignoring this individual, or throwing them out face-first, was not an option, at least not as of now. The same man who had hassled Wesker a few minutes ago just outside the lab entered into the security guard's bureau, wearing his hands in his suit pockets.

"Vice president Claymont, overseer of the Spencer Enterprise Quality

Control", the previously-unnamed individual introduced himself, "In case you were wondering who you were having an argument with".

"Would you be offended if I said I was not?", Wesker looked up at him while remaining seated.

Claymont smiled in response.

"Rumor has it that you're rather unhappy with our company, Albert. You don't mind if I call you Albert, do you?".

"Free country, just not a free corporation", the guard's facial expression did not change.

"It has been a long day, I'm afraid", the overseer exhaled slowly,

"And it's not even lunchtime yet".

That was followed by a chuckle that didn't last when he realized that

Wesker didn't smile back.

"Please do allow me to sit down at least", the vice president added as he approached the far left side of couch.

With person on either side of the sofa and the handgun still between them, the older man stared ahead at the same artwork that Wesker's face was aimed towards.

"Yours is a complex story indeed, Albert", both men kept gazing ahead without looking at each other, "From one of our best researchers to security personnel, all within a few short years".

No answer from the younger security guard.

"One has to wonder where you think you'll be heading with our great corporation. But for that, we need stability as well as dedication".

The older man turned his head to look at Wesker from across the couch for the first time.

"How are you planning on getting ahead at Umbrella, much less be noticed by White Umbrella, if you can't commit to any one project, Albert?".

"Oh, I was counting on having lots of more days like this one", Wesker crossed one leg over the other and extended his left arm on the back of the sofa, "But in this job, the real work starts after the smoke cleared and the bullets have been spent".

"I wouldn't worry about the two victims", the vice president's response was as easy-going as the rest of his attitude, "The unfortunate car accident they'll be in won't leave much of a trace of how they really died".

"Of course, the car accident... Is that my job?", Wesker looked back towards the paintings.

"Definitely. We could definitely use the assistance of someone with your qualifications", came the dry reply.

"And here I thought it was supposed to be about protecting the employees' safety and welfare", the guard went on.

"That's a good one, Albert".

No answer from Wesker.

"Albert, how would you like to undertake a special project for White

Umbrella?".

The security guard looked back at him.

"For the men in white when I wasn't good enough to be getting ahead in regular Umbrella just a few moments ago?".

"Have you ever worked under cover, Albert?".

"Can't say I have, no".

"It seems that this company needs an educated and informed undercover man inside the Raccoon City Police Department", the vice president informed him casually, "Umbrella does have many people on the payroll there, however, most are so they'll simply look away, so they're technically not our people. The locals are getting jumpy about all the sightings and rumors near the city's forest, and the police department is breathing down our necks. If they're not dealt with soon, they could infiltrate and make our company known to the public. You know we can't allow that".

Wesker found himself being surprised for the first time today, followed by the feeling that his time was being wasted.

"How the hell can that be a problem?", the guard verbally shot back,

"Especially a problem you're bringing to me!".

Before Claymont had a chance to reply, Wesker jumped up to his feet, turning around to face the older, seated man and pointing down at him with an accusing left index finger.

"If you people have a problem with my work ethics, then you have the spine to come out and tell me to my face! Don't be shipping me off to work in some figurative sub-basement where I'm wasting away".

"Albert, please. You misunderstand", the vice-president's demeanor did not change despite the antagonist he was now looking up to face.

"I bet", Wesker snarled back, showing two rows of angry teeth between the words, even while his eyes remained hidden behind the sunglasses,

"Don't use too many rounds on the monsters, Mr. Guard. They're more important than your colleagues or the people you were hired to save. And you're not getting paid to think, just to follow our procedures".

Both men locked eyes, Claymont momentarily wishing to get up, but deciding not to so as to not risk the wrath of the younger, stronger and better-trained employee.

"Does any of that sound familiar?", Wesker's hands went by the sides of his own head, instinctively checking the status of his hair, before his arms crossed in front of his chest, "Do you think that adding in some flattery is going to make me not notice that I'm being sent somewhere else and will only be recalled here when you need more cannon fodder? So all of a sudden you have some half-assed project to send your least favorite security guard to. What? No more car accidents can be orchestrated for undesirable employees for today?".

"Now that's just about enough!", his older supervisor finally stood up to face him in turn.

Both men exchanged a quiet lock of their eyes, but this time on their feet.

"The Raccoon PD is truly becoming a problem for White Umbrella, one that needs to be dealt with, and the more experienced security expert we have working for our side in there, the better".

"Let me get this straight, Mr. vice president", Wesker walked over to the couch and towards the weapon that was still resting in the middle of it, "The company basically gets a green light by the federal government to use any methods necessary to develop a viral weapon for it before one of this country's many enemies developed it first".

He holstered the weapon before turning back towards Claymont.

"And you expect me, someone who has always flattered himself in having an at least average IQ, to believe that the near unlimited powers given to us by the highest authority in the land is still not enough to get a bunch of local meter maids off our backs", the guard continued with sarcasm.

"The government covers up for us, yes, but do you really think that

Umbrella should be running to hide behind a masquerading clause? The government is happy to look the other way and let us have our own way with the coroners and media, but there's only so much we can ask them to do, especially considering how big their annual budget for Umbrella is, all without any of the safety protocols that every other company needs to adhere by", Claymont informed him, "But even with the people receiving supplements to their wages, it's not enough. Those Raccoon cops are starting to meddle nonstop. They won't look away. So sure, you run to the federal government and inform them that you can't distract a bunch of uninformed locals on your own".

"I only came aboard to protect the lives of individuals who are working to safeguard this country from viral attacks, so you find yourself another flunky to do your dirty work", Wesker snapped back.

"And if those cops do manage to infiltrate us and expose Umbrella to the public, the same public that we're trying to protect isn't going to allow our continued existence", Claymont whispered back, "So choose your mission, Albert. Either stay here and work with the company for as long as it's tolerated, or work undercover and ensure that the company is in business indefinitely. Or at least until our sponsors are satisfied".

Wesker did not reply. His eyes only bore into Claymont's from behind his sunglasses. The vice president suspected that he had seen the guard grimace.

He just wished he could be sure.

The police station was definitely different than the usual headquarters he was used to being employed around, he thought to himself as he winced even when his eyes were hidden behind the shades.

For starters, the majority of the work area was above ground under the afternoon sun, not camouflaged and buried underneath a dark mansion. The clothes were also different, having changed from the standard khaki

Umbrella Security colors to the navy blue one belonging to the members of the Raccoon City Police Department. Moreover, Wesker was having to get used to the new equipment. The weapon was changed from the powerful .50 caliber Desert Eagle to the lighter 9 mm Glock pistol that carried several more rounds per clip. Not that he didn't approve of being able to fire more shots before reloading, but he also preferred the ability to blow apart a car engine with one bullet. He also had to remember to always wear his complimentary Kevlar vest underneath his attire. His outfit at Umbrella Security also came with a standard body armor, of course, but it was almost unheard of their officers using it since such gear was mainly used to defend against human intruders.

Umbrella, on the other hand, was so well hidden that it was virtually unheard of to have human spies or trespassers finding it. The anti-bullet protective apparatus was also useless against the monsters, so Umbrella Security only relied on firepower and never on the equipment.

Thus, rookie police officer Albert Wesker erratically scratched at the tight bullet-proof vest that hugged his upper body. He also carried a gym bag over his right shoulder with one arm and made his way towards the front door of the police station.

"Claymont has got to tell me how he managed this within one week", he told himself.

Once inside the police base, he first had to stop and visually take the entire scenery into his path of sight. The station was fairly large, as expected from the way the outside of the building appeared while he was nearing it, and very well lit. It was also much busier than the kind of environment he was used to having when at his profession. Instead of pure white or gray walls with only khaki-dressed security guards and white-dressed scientists who only spoke to each other when the exchange of information was vital, Wesker was now looking at a large area where blue-dressed as well as casual-dressed officers and detectives conversed with civilians, handcuffed suspects, district attorneys as well as defense lawyers. So the volume of the noise alone was enough to force him to need a few seconds of adjustment.

Before too long, Wesker retained his grip on the gym bag that hung over his right shoulder and walked towards the staircase. Knowing the approximate area where his desk was located, he made his way up the stairs, walking past other individuals even as he met others who were coming downstairs.

The second floor was much the same as the one that occupied the street level of the building. Looking through the nameplates on the lockers, Wesker finally found an open one that conveyed his first initial and last name. He promptly put the gym bag vertically inside the locker and pushed its metal door shut, not minding that it lacked a locking mechanism. Not that one should need a lock inside a police station, he mused to himself, but still, he was glad he was not going to be placing his weapons in there, as he always carried them on his person.

It was then that Wesker heard a voice that was addressing him.

"First day on the job?", came the question from behind him.

Wesker turned around to find himself facing a similarly-dressed officer in basic blue with the RPD letters in white across the chest.

"Name's Joseph Frost", the other officer extended his right hand before

Wesker gripped it with his own.

"Albert Wesker, and yes, first day here", the Umbrella operative told him as they shook hands, suspecting the other officer was quietly wondering why he still insisted on keeping his sunglasses on even when he was indoors.

"Good to meet you, Albert", Frost went on with a smile, "I'm rather new here myself. But you can always tell someone who's in his first day since they're not sure where their lockers and desks are".

"Good to be here", Wesker replied in good-humored sarcasm, still visually combing his younger colleague and then his overhead environment, "So when do we start protecting the innocent and punishing the guilty".

The grin on Frost's face widened.

"First day on the job is obvious if you're talking like that", the more youthful officer rested his hands on his own hips, "All the fun will take place once you survive several ages of mind-numbing paperwork. But the good news is that all those who survive the ordeal end up getting paid to have fun for the rest of their lives".

"Speaking of fun, who do you have to annoy around here to replace one's sidearm with a more, let's say, adequate weapon?", Wesker asked as he crossed his own arms in front of his chest.

"Come again?", Frost looked and felt surprised, "You wanna replace your

Glock? Have you had any experience with firearms, Albert? That piece is the most advanced state of the art weapon out there".

"Maybe, but my own experience has been around .50 caliber Desert

Eagles, I'm afraid", the Umbrella spy cracked his knuckles before proceeding to find a suitable desk on which to organize the new stack of paperwork which was sure to follow on the job.

"That's a bad idea anyway", Frost followed him, "The captain here

loves the Glock. Hell, he'd be screwing it if his wife would let him, I suspect".

Frost laughed at his own joke as Wesker turned to look at him with a perplexed look on his face.

"Anyway, ahem", the slightly more experienced officer's demeanor became more serious, "Point is, the captain will NOT approve your request, especially if you haven't had years on the force yet. Here, use this desk. It has the least number of bullet holes in it".

Another confused look from behind Wesker's sunglasses.

"Kidding", Frost informed again.

"Thanks for the desk", the older officer started clearing out the top of the desk in an effort to make it his own for the time being.

The Umbrella mole knew it was clearly too early to find out what this police district knew or suspected about his original employer's covert operations. So best to familiarize himself with the new agency before asking what could be perceived as too many questions. Besides, he didn't want anyone wondering about the method he used to get here without having gone through the police academy first.

"Can you tell me where I can get one of those forms to change my sidearm, Joseph?", Wesker finally asked as he was exploring the insides of the desk.

"I already told you that you'll be wasting your time, Al", officer

Frost was surprised that Wesker was back on that topic as he himself was filing a pile of paperwork on his own desk.

"I'd rather try and know for sure, and don't call me Al".

Frost stopped in place, not sure if Wesker was serious with that statement.

Rather unrefined for someone's first day at work, he thought.

"But Wes is fine", Wesker snickered back.

Two days after his initiation at the Raccoon Police Department, Wesker reported to work at 7:45 AM, about fifteen minute before his eight-hour shift was due to begin. He dropped his holstered weapon on the desk as he proceeded to check his phone messages from the previous night.

Officer Frost happened by when Wesker was halfway through the messages, with his eyes still down on the desk as he wrote down a name and phone number that had been left on his voicemail several hours ago.

Something caught Frost's eye.

"Is that a Desert Eagle?", the more experienced police man asked, not believing his eyes, as the new weapon was part of Wesker's uniform.

Without responding out loud, Wesker smiled to himself as he kept writing down the important messages and deleting the ones he had no use for.

Weeks rolled by as a full-time member of the RPD, even as Wesker's primary job started after his eight hours in the police department were finished. Endless reports and procedures were learned and sometimes memorized, along with an entire system of rules that was meant to allegedly keep the officers as safe and efficient as humanly possible while on the job. His opinion of the ratio of those regulations that were truly useful as opposed to the ones that were a waste of time was constantly changing, depending on his mood. And after four months of arrests of petty and major criminals followed by a massive amount of paperwork, he still had not completely gotten used to the occupation. To make it worse, he needed to know everything about being a police officer before being trusted enough to find out what the department knew or suspected about his true employers.

The lack of progress on his mission for White Umbrella was on his mind as he was driving a patrol car by himself. Wesker knew he needed to concentrate on the job at hand on the short run without being distracted with the long term mission, as he could not afford to be diverted from any potential dangers that being a police officer alone could present him at any time. So visually combing both sides of the sidewalk as he drove by, as well as keeping his eyes on the street ahead of him, forced him to stay alert at all times.

The first potential crime he spotted involved two women in their late

20's, one dressed in a business attire with short, straight brown hair while the other was clothed in casual clothes as she had curly, shoulder-length blonde hair. Both individuals' jumpy behavior of repeatedly looking around them before hurrying through a door and closing it behind them drew his attention.

"Time to serve the public", Wesker whispered to himself as he swiftly parked the car at the first empty space next to the sidewalk.

Withdrawing the keys out of the ignition, he exited the vehicle and followed both suspects towards the door that he expected to be presently locked. It took him about a minute to reach the doorknob and try to twist it, and he realized he was right, as it was locked from the inside. The first thing he did was to make sure he was not standing right in front of it, as procedure dictated.

"Police, open up now!", he ordered as he repeatedly banged on it with a closed right fist while the door was next to his own right side.

No answer.

Withdrawing the service firearm with his right hand, he delivered a front right kick next to the doorknob, shattering the locking mechanism and bursting the entrance open.

He aimed the Desert Eagle into the unkempt room as the majority of his body was still hidden next to the doorway. But instead of the hostile environment he suspected might greet him, he saw both women only, and neither one of them seemed to be in a position to put up a fight. The lady in the business suit appeared to be passed out on a filthy couch while the woman in casual clothes was knelt down next to her and undoing a rubber band that was tied around the first person's upper arm.

The second individual looked up and stared into Wesker's eyes for an instant, revealing a panicking mind set. Her eyes jumped before she stood up and bolted away from him as he slowly and carefully entered the room.

Watching her disappear down an adjacent hallway before he heard a backdoor opening and closing, the Umbrella operative let her go as he concentrated on the first person who was still unconscious on the sofa.

He first checked for a pulse by gripping her left wrist. Finding a faint heartbeat, he remained standing and scanned the room as a whole. It appeared to be a small, and very grimy, first floor apartment complex, with a short hallway that led to a nearby kitchen, bathroom and rear door.

The officer pressed a button on his uniform radio and called for an ambulance as he quickly walked through the hallway, kitchen and bathroom to ensure that no one else was there. Finding nothing except mice and cockroaches, he then holstered the Desert Eagle and returned to the comatose stranger on the couch. Wesker squatted down next to sofa and examined the needle that protruded from the suspect's left forearm as her sleeve had been pulled up. He took a hold of her arm and slowly withdrew the needle as he kept an eye on her face to see if she would wake up.

She did not while he let the empty syringe fall on the floor next to his feet and checked her breathing to make sure she had not stopped the respiratory process.

"Out on a lunch break?", he asked, even though he knew she could not hear him while he could pick up the sound of an approaching ambulance from a distance.

Just as he thought the situation was about to improve, he heard several screams from outside that were followed by a loud crash. He couldn't even try to guess what had just transpired, so Wesker stood back up and ran out the door. The scenery that greeted him was the last one he wanted to see at the time.

An ambulance had crashed into the back of his parked police car, even while the sirens were screaming with red lights and deafening noise. Two paramedics emerged from the mangled ambulance, the passenger with a bloodied cut on his forehead, as both had trouble walking straight.

"You called for an EMT, officer?", the ambulance driver staggered a few steps, trying to steady himself.

"What the hell happened!", Wesker raised his voice in an effort to be heard over the pedestrians and drivers who had stopped their cars on the sidewalk and gotten out after witnessing the accident, "Didn't you see my car?".

"Well yeah! We saw it. Just...", the passenger from the ambulance stopped, choosing his words, "We were just in a hurry to get here, is all!".

"Are you two all right?", the officer added as he approached the two men.

"Yeah, yeah", the driver replied as he shook his head and then rested it against the palm of his hand as if he had a giant headache, "Just not sure if this ambulance is usable any more".

"I got an OD in that house back there!", Wesker pointed behind him, "She doesn't have very long! What the hell are we supposed to do about

that?".

"Can you check to see if it's still driving, Lenny?", the driver asked of his passenger.

The man named Lenny kept a piece of cloth pressed against his bloodied forehead as he nodded once and ran to fill the seat behind the wheel.

"Show me where your OD is!", the previous driver then advised.

Obliging, Wesker led one of the two paramedics back into the living room before that individual squatted down next to the couch in his own turn and felt for the woman's pulse. It was a sudden change to be in a quieter room.

"She's very weak, she needs to be taken to Raccoon City Hospital and

now", the emergency health worker informed the officer who kept standing behind him.

"No kidding", Wesker sighed, "So let's go already. Is the ambulance ready?".

"Afraid not", Lenny ran into the room with a worried look on his face to inform them both, "Our wheels are gone, guys. That ambulance ain't going anywhere anytime soon".

"One of you guys call for a back-up EMT unit", Wesker ordered.

"This is our side of the city alone! It'll take ages to re-route another unit in this side of town!", the original driver countered as he stood back up.

"Let's use my cruiser then", the Umbrella operative suggested as he withdrew his car keys, "We'll put her in the back seat".

"Problem again", Lenny sighed, holding his hand out in front of him to stop Wesker, "I checked, officer. That collision flattened both your rear tires also. Your patrol car's not going anywhere without being towed there first".

"This is great. This is fucking GREAT!", Wesker angrily kicked the couch, leaving a deep dent within it and not paying any attention to the jumpy reaction shown by both paramedics as he did so.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking down at the critically wounded woman on the sofa for a few, silent seconds without uttering a word. Neither man around him knew of what to say, or even wanted to make themselves heard with someone who had a temper and was armed at the same time, so both opted to simply watch him instead.

"We'll just have to borrow a ride", the officer finally announced as he turned around and walked out of the living room.

Once outside, he promptly marched away from the gathering multitude of spectators and onto the side of the street outside. With both paramedics still on the sidewalk, Wesker withdrew the badge off his uniform and pointed it at the first, blue 4-door car that was approaching the spot where he stood.

"Stop the car", he ordered out loud, though even he had to admit he could not be heard over the noise pollution that surrounded him.

The driver did see him, but the automobile did not appear to be slowing down in anticipation of his verbal and nonverbal commands.

"STOP THE DAMN CAR!", he screamed louder.

The blue vehicle slightly turned to avoid hitting him as its driver honked his horn due to the inconvenience. Swearing several times, Wesker did not follow that car with his eyes but instead concentrated on the second vehicle he spotted coming closer to him. So he pointed his RPD badge towards the driver of that second, cream-colored convertible.

"Pull over! PULL OVER!", Wesker screamed at the male operator behind the wheel.

Unfortunately, the result was the same. The second car swerved around the spot where he stood on the street and drove past him.

Watching the second vehicle leave him behind, the officer sighed in vexation without showing any signs of anger. Instead, he replaced the badge back on his uniform and withdrew his Desert Eagle pistol instead. He then stood his ground on the side of the street and turned his head to face the third, red 4-door car that was rolling towards him.

The Umbrella spy undid the safety mechanism on the firearm and pointed it at the female driver, making sure she was staring down the barrel of the deadly weapon.

"PULL OVER THE CAR NOW", he barked, his sunglasses visually drilling into the woman's terrified eyes.

She did so, slamming on the brakes before her vehicle came to rest about a yard away from Wesker's legs.

Happy that he didn't have to be shown up by jumping out of the way if the car hadn't stopped, Wesker replaced the safety mechanism and holstered his weapon. He walked over to the open driver's side window before placing his hand on top of the roof of the car and looking down through that same window.

"Thank you for stopping, ma'am", he spoke in an unusually composed voice, considering how they were meeting, "Raccoon PD. We have an emergency that we need to use your vehicle for. It should only be about half an hour".

Looking back to the paramedics, he raised his voice to be heard.

"We got our ride, fellas! Bring the OD!", he declared.

Then his attention was put back on the lady driver in a more tranquil tone.

"Would you kindly move over, ma'am? We need at least three adults in the front due to a prone individual who'll be in the backseat".

Routine foot patrol was just that - routine.

Nothing much happened out of the ordinary. The citizens of Raccoon City were either friendly, unfriendly or neither. Thus, officer Wesker always ran across people who were trying to offer a pleasant smile or greeting upon meeting him, those who scoffed and said something behind his back, or those who gave no visible reaction at all.

During another time and place, he would've done something about the second type of resident, but at this time, he had to spend more energy on how to accomplish his objective of finding out what the department knew about Umbrella.

At least that's what he would've done on the long run if his attention wasn't diverted on the short run. That is because in this day, routine patrol held a surprise for him, one that was not usual in this sleepy, peaceful town.

"Armed robbery in progress, Grady's Inn on 16th and Oregon, shots fired! Proceed with extreme caution!", Wesker's radio screamed from his toolbelt.

"Some things never change", he whispered to himself as he crouched while outside the door to the empty restaurant, all the customers having vacated the premises a short while ago.

Moving carefully towards the front door, he slowly used his drawn sidearm to push the entryway open.

Inside the vacant eatery, the unmasked, middle-aged Caucasian was still busy emptying the contents of the counter cash register into his jacket pockets as an unconscious store clerk lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

The thief's demeanor changed from annoyed to one that was enraged when he saw the door opening towards him. It was only then that he saw a squatting police officer with dark eyeglasses looking back at him from about ten yards away.

"Are you so stupid that you don't even wear gloves in the commission of a crime?", was the question thrown at him by the uniformed intruder.

"Fuck you, pig!", was the only reply.

The older man lifted his right arm, aiming a long-barreled revolver and looking to fire it for the second time today. He thought he was very fast. He also thought that he couldn't miss from the short distance across the pizza shop.

From Wesker's point of view, it appeared more like his opponent was moving in slow motion.

The Umbrella operative rose up to his feet, pointed the Desert Eagle pistol with his right hand only and pulled the trigger even before his adversary could take aim. His gun coughed once. A .50 caliber bullet exploded into the middle of the robber's left thigh and exited out the back of the man's leg, leaving a dark red stain on the wall behind him.

The robber, in turn, screamed as he pulled the trigger on the revolver while the section of his leg which was below the wound was separated from the rest of his body. A bullet shot out of the revolver and entered the ceiling of the restaurant. While that happened, the male suspect let go of his firearm and dropped behind the counter and on the floor next to his victim.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! MOTHERFUCKER! YOU SHOT ME!", was the screaming

Wesker tried desperately to ignore as he kept his gun aimed at his target.

He approached the counter, right arm on the Desert Eagle and left hand on the communicator on his belt, all the while attempting to be heard over the screaming.

"This is Wesker, I have two down at the shop on 16th and Oregon, gunshot wounds. Require medical assistance, and I mean now", he spoke into his radio as he reached the cash register.

Hearing sirens emanating outside from behind him, he also kicked the revolver away, putting several feet between the downed weapon and the trio of humans.

Still paying no attention to his enemy's fading spasms or the second pool of blood originating from the criminal's severed leg, Wesker squatted next to the restaurant employee and placed his left index and middle fingers against the side of the man's neck. He knew that the suspect was going into shock, but simply did not care at the moment.

"Wes!", came the shout from outside as the door to the shop opened again.

He gazed behind him to see officer Frost entering the restaurant with another uniformed colleague that he did not recognize.

"I'm fine, officer Frost", Wesker looked back down to the victim as he addressed his partners, "But shooting casualty here isn't. Pulse is weak and erratic. He could stop breathing and go into cardiac arrest any second now. He needs to be in a hospital five minutes ago".

"This is Joe. I want an ambulance at...", Frost started speaking into his radio as the new pair of police officers made their way inside.

"I already put out the call!", Wesker snarled without looking up from the unconscious victim, "Just help me stop his bleeding till help arrives".

"One of us should tend to the suspect while two tend to the vic...",

Frost and his partner were holstering their weapons as they quickly walked towards the cash register.

"No!", an irritated Wesker interrupted Frost for the second time, but looking up to lock eyes with him, "We all work on him".

With his colleagues squatting around the two injured individuals, the

Umbrella scout pointed at the down suspect as that man was desperately gripping whatever remained of his left leg.

"Our job is to protect victims", Wesker angrily added, "If he stays alive till the paramedics get here, then fine. But we don't waste our time on him".

He got unreadable facial expressions from both RPD employees, but

Frost's mouth noticeably tightened. The younger man obviously didn't appreciate taking orders from someone who was the same rank as him.

"Fine", Frost finally answered as Wesker already started tearing the victim's shirt to use it to place pressure on his wound, "But they better get here fast, then".

"It's good to know I have someone watching my back", was the last thing

Frost heard from the undercover Umbrella security guard as Wesker's calmer tone had become much more accepting of his own role as Frost's subordinate.

The amount of paperwork that was waiting to be completed after Wesker's shooting incident was enough to cover his entire medium-sized desk to the point where the wooden surface of the desk could not be seen.

"Hm", he scratched his chin as he eyed the large quantity of documents that needed to be filled out or signed about the day's earlier occurrence, "Scary of how it can find you wherever you go".

"You OK, Wes?", Frost had walked up behind him.

"Oh, of course", the shaded spy turned his face to look at the younger officer, "And I thought I could take on any adversary, until I saw

this. I mean, you think you're ready, but then the reality of it is enough to traumatize any and all, regardless of how tough you think you are".

Frost had to momentarily read Wesker's facial expression before replying. One day I'm going to pull those glasses off his face, he mused.

"You're talking about the paperwork rather than the shooting, aren't you?", officer Frost wanted to confirm his suspicions.

The smile on Wesker's face as he turned back to look at his desk confirmed what he believed.

"Can this waste of time wait till tomorrow?", the older man asked him without making eye contact.

"Uh, well, I suppose", Frost informed, "But we may as well. Got another hour before we clock off".

"Then I'm done for the day", Wesker turned back to him, "Feel like grabbing some lunch before we head to our homes?".

"Well, I mean, sure, but we aren't done for another hour".

"Oh, fuck it, who's keeping tabs anyway? Not like we have to punch in and out on this job", with that, Wesker walked past Frost and headed outside.

"You coming or what?" the older man called out after him before Frost did what used to be the unthinkable just a week ago and left work early.

"It's just so weird to think that someone from our department had to fire his gun, much less firing it so early on the job", Frost conversed over a plate of shrimp and fries and a glass of orange soda as he was seated in a small, local bistro named Burger Kong, "I mean, I can't even remember the last date when a member of the RPD had to discharge a weapon while on duty".

"Can't say I'm disappointed", Wesker answered in between bites of his chicken sandwich, "This is a job I've wanted to do for a very long time. I'm happier to not have to wait before cleaning up society of its scumbags".

The damn shades are always on his face even when he's eating, Frost thought to himself, making sure his face didn't reveal what he was thinking.

"Then if you don't mind me asking, Wes, how come you're a cop now?", he said out loud instead.

"What do you mean?", Wesker took a drink of the light beer.

"You are a few years older, and if you wanted this line of work since day one, how come you're just starting? You don't have to tell me, of course.

Just curious as to how I myself started here right after high school but you're a few years behind me".

"Ah!", the older but less experienced officer smiled as he swallowed the food in his mouth and began to be ready to lie, "Well, that'd be since I had four years of college after high school, so didn't leave the classroom till I was 22. But even that leaves some time, between graduation and the police force, as I'm sure you noticed".

"Uhuh".

"I wasn't born here in Raccoon City, Joseph. I had initially applied for the police department back in my home state, but oddly enough, the powers that be stated I had some 'severe anger issues' when put through a psych exam", Wesker pointed out the emphasis on the three words.

"Can you believe that?", the Umbrella operative smiled at his younger colleague, "Me, anger issues. So instead of wasting my time with those clowns, I joined a large security company back home that basically let me have more freedom. Last year, the job relocated me to Raccoon here, and that was a few months before I got laid off due to cutbacks. It seemed a good time to try the police force again".

"Weird is right, but those dim-witted tests don't know jack about the person they're supposedly reading, Wes", Frost added, "Talk about a waste of talent. But better late than never, right? I'm just wondering still if we did the right thing by that suspect today before the medic guys arrived. I've never done anything like that before. I mean, I know he was a shithead and all, doesn't mean a severed leg was gonna hurt any less. And not that I'm gonna say anything, Wes, but the other officer that I was with, I don't know if he'll be talking to the brass about how what we did violates protocol".

"I wouldn't worry about that if I was you, Joseph. I assure you that the only way anyone will make a fuss over this is if it makes it on the news. And that will only happen if he has politically connected loves ones, which we can safely assume that someone who's robbing pizza shops does not", Wesker finished the last of his sandwich and drink, "And as far as what you had mentioned previously about the psych test and better being here late than never, definitely correct on both counts. Good to be part of a non-corporate team. But for now, I need to run an errand at the hospital where my shooting victim was taken. Want to see how he's doing before I head home".

"Oh?", the younger officer was surprised to see him stand up as soon as his food was over.

"I just wish I had gotten there sooner and kept him from being victimized at all. I'll go home from there and get some R & R before I see you tomorrow for another busy day of making the world a safer way through paperwork", the older man checked his sidearm for what felt like was the hundredth time since the shooting.

"Seeing two people with blood exploding from them isn't a scene I'm likely to forget either", Frost added.

"Lunch is on me", Wesker placed a $20 bill on the table, "You try to get some rest too before tomorrow, kid".

"Kid, funny", Frost grinned, "I'm how many years younger than you?.

"Enough years", the older man pointed at him before turning and exiting the petite restaurant.

------------------------------

"How is he doing?", Wesker directed his finger through the window of the hospital room where Richard Rodriguez, the shooting victim from earlier that day, was lying on a white-colored bed.

"In a word, not good", Dr. Alex Bechet replied in a whispered tone, "In more than one word... Well, I'd be wasting my time since it'd just be a fancier way of telling you that his chances are small to none".

"The problem?", the uniformed police officer crossed his arms, making the older doctor nervous as he saw his own reflection in the younger man's sunglasses.

"The problem, security guard Wesker, is that this man's heart was punctured by a bullet at close range", the Umbrella contact in the hospital informed him, "So unless a miracle happens and he finds a heart that's donated to him in the next 48 hours, he won't be around by the end of the week".

"And organ waiting lists are typically years long", the security guard/police officer knew the rest of the predicament.

"Thus why this patient won't be operated on", Bechet added.

An awkward moment of silence followed as Wesker marched into

Rodriguez's room, followed from a few steps behind by his fellow Umbrella employee.

The younger man ignored the unconscious patient who remained sedated while he took a hold of the medical chart that was attached to the foot of the bed. Wesker looked interested in what he read and nodded twice to himself before returning the chart to its rightful place.

"What if I could find this hospital a heart before the end of the day?", Wesker returned his arms to a crossed position in front of his chest.

"How in hell do you expect to do that?", the pseudo-doctor inquired.

"Let's just say us RPD types know the location of every victim and suspect we either carry or end up putting into one of the local hospitals", Wesker's armed relaxed by his sides.

"Come again?".

"I happen to know where Marc Black's room is".

"Umbrella has special plans for Mr. Black ever since he was brought in with the gunshot wound that you so aptly provided him with. He's off limits until a White Umbrella clean-up crew arrives at midnight to take custody of him", Bechet answered, "So you leave him alone to us, Albert".

"You tell White Umbrella to find another pimp, or whatever the hell else they want with that waste of space", the police officer abruptly turned away from his conversation with the older doctor.

"What?", Bechet called after him as he watched him leave.

"Just get the operating room ready, doctor", Wesker answered him as he got further away.

"Albert, no!", the undercover general practitioner bolted after him,

"Where are you going!".

Wesker thought to himself that it was a distinct advantage that Alex Bechet was in the same figurative boat that he was, thus the elderly

Umbrella employee would never be in a position to inform his doings to the local Raccoon City authorities. He had nothing more to say as his pursuer quickly, but nervously, followed him down the hallway to the area where his destination was found. The RPD official walked into a second hospital room, and it's only then that Bechet realized that it was the one belonging to the restaurant shooter, as the name written on the register stated the patient's first initial and last name was M. Black. The younger man grasped the new chart, lifting it towards his face as he silently read the contents.

A smile crept over Wesker's face after several seconds. He finally placed the flat document back where it belonged.

"Hey, Black, wake the hell up, you ugly son of a bitch!", the Umbrella spy called out.

The injured suspect whose left arm was handcuffed to the bed lifted his head up as he saw the officer who had wounded him now standing in his room. Even though he was in a half-seated position on the hospital bed, he still could not move due to his restrained left wrist and the immobile cast placed around his left thigh that was used to reattach his leg.

"What the fuck do you...", Black started demanding, the disgust and anger showing on his face.

"Catch this, you asshole. It's a present", Wesker unholstered his

Desert Eagle pistol and lightly threw it on the robber's stomach from three yards away.

More surprised and confused than anything else, Black's fingers landed around the barrel of the weapon by instinct alone as Bechet stood silently a few feet away from both men, still wondering what his employer's security guard was planning.

"Put my gun down, motherfucker!", Wesker ordered out loud as soon as he knew that Black's fingerprints were on his firearm.

"Wha...?" the injured man started asking, trying to question what was going on.

Without answering, Wesker lifted his own left leg by bending that knee.

He smoothly withdrew the 9mm Glock pistol from that ankle with his right hand and took aim at the robbery suspect for the second time today. He heard Bechet and Black gasping at the same time as he pulled the trigger once. A 9 mm bullet shot out of his second weapon and entered the patient's forehead, bouncing that one's head as blood, bone and brain matter spilled on the pillow and wall behind him.

Satisfied, Wesker walked up to Black's corpse and picked the Desert

Eagle out of his dead hand. He holstered the first weapon with his left hand while he maintained his right hand grip on the back-up Glock pistol.

"You saw that, the man grabbed my gun as I was interrogating him. I had to resort to deadly force since our lives were in danger", the officer informed the shocked Umbrella scientist as he turned around. Bechet's mouth was still wide open as his eyes were almost perfectly round while he kept looking at the body which was missing its forehead on the hospital bed.

"Now you have a heart to use for Mr. Rodriguez", was Wesker's last statement as the officer headed home.


	2. Chapter 2 Crime and Punishment

December 5th 1995

The following day, back at the Raccoon City Police Department, Wesker was not at his desk first thing in the morning like he preferred to be.

"Who on God's green earth gave you permission to question the suspect while he was hospitalized?!", officer Stan Kim barked as the single lamp overhead shone a yellow light that hurt the eyes of everyone in the small, windowless interrogation room in the basement of police headquarters.

Everyone's eyes, that is, except Wesker's. The Umbrella operative was still quite comfortable as his eyes were consistently covered with the sunglasses. Three officers from the Internal Affairs Division, all of them dressed in suits and ties, hovered around the table and chair that was occupied by the lower-ranking officer. His blue apparel was a sharp contrast to their gray, white and black ones, respectively, as Wesker didn't bother looking up any more, preferring to keep staring ahead across the table and towards the only other chair that was there, though that one was empty.

"No one, _sir_", he finally replied, "I just thought I could get some information out of him as far as what other robberies he might've committed, with or without accomplices. Suspects like Marc Black rarely ever pull one job only".

None of his three interrogators answered.

"As I'm sure you gentlemen know", Wesker added.

"So you went in there, as a doctor was examining him and what?", Kim asked the same question for the fifth time so far.

"I demanded that he tell me when was the last time he had pulled other jobs like it, _sir_", the same blank expression hiding behind the sunglasses.

"How far were you from him as you asked him that?", one of Kim's associates questioned in his turn from another part of the room.

"About a yard from the bed, _sir_. That is when he grunts in pain, reaches forward and pulls my sidearm out of its holster. He says nothing".

"Are you sure about that?", Kim went on, placing his hands palm-down on the table and leaning his face closer to Wesker's, 

"Because we _are_ asking Dr. Bechet these same questions, as I'm sure you know. So I'm guessing that he's confirming your version of events now, right?".

"He should be, assuming he's not lying or experiencing blackout,_sir_".

"You better hope so", the third interrogator told him.

Wesker already knew to not volunteer information, and thus not bothered saying anything else unless he was asked a new question. Having been on the receiving end of such inquiries for the last twenty minutes now, the Umbrella spy was getting rather bored, nonverbally wondering how much longer this event was scheduled to last. He reasoned that his real employers would use their contacts within the department to pull rank and send him back out of the interrogation chamber so he can do both his jobs, for Umbrella and for the RPD, but he just did not know when that would be.

Coinciding with his train of thought, the only door leading in or out of the room opened from the outside and the police chief himself entered with two uniformed assistants behind him.

"Gentlemen", chief Irons declared, addressing the three IAD officers, 

"It seems that this question and answer session is over. Dr. Bechet has been singing the same tune as officer Wesker here, and the good doctor has no reason to lie, seeing as these two hadn't even met till yesterday evening".

"So that's it?", Kim asked the chief, "Our investigation's over and he's back on duty? I don't like the idea of that, sir. Not after the gross negligence he displayed".

"I understand your concerns, detective", the older and more heavyset chief replied, "And I assure you that officer Wesker _will_ be reprimanded severely for his lack of judgment. But this is no longer a criminal matter, it's a departmental discipline issue now".

The three IAD detectives didn't seem to enjoy hearing the chief's statement, but they also knew they had to accept it.

"Officers", chief Irons turned to the two assistants behind him, "Help these detectives in any way they need so as to make their trip back to their headquarters as uncomplicated as possible".

The statement was extremely polite, but the underlying meaning that he was ordering the detectives out of his building was clear. Getting the hint, all three IAD detectives said nothing more as they picked up their jackets as well as suitcases before heading outside. One of them thanked the chief for his time and was answered in kind before they left the room, followed by one of the two uniformed officers. As the first of Irons' assistants walked out with the IAD officers, the other, a female officer in uniform who wore straight brown hair down to the back of her neck, stood at attention behind the police chief and with her hands crossed at her lower back. It was only then that Wesker stood up, with a slight grin on his face, as Irons closed the door behind himself to make sure the three remaining individuals were alone.

"Thanks for the assistance, chief, especially after the doctor backed up what I said", the younger officer expected to walk out of the place and head back upstairs.

"Shut up!", Irons surprised him by an angry tone of voice as his path was blocked by the older superior, "What the hell did you think you were doing last night?".

The surprise didn't stay on Wesker's face for long. Having regained his composure within an instant, he stared into the chief's eyes from behind his own dark glasses.

"Was just out sightseeing, if you must know, boss", his sarcasm was obvious, "Why do you ask?".

"Umbrella wanted to acquire Marc Black, and alive, you moron!", Irons barked back, "Do you have any idea how many cages you rattled by that stupid stunt of yours?!".

"First off, _boss_, you're obviously upset, but I'd be real careful about calling me any names", Wesker crossed his arms in front of his chest yet again, "Second, what is this new obsession with recruiting scumbags? Is our rank and file getting to be so braindead that we need to scrape recruits off the bottom of the barrel?".

Irons didn't seem any less agitated, though he was careful to avoid the personal insults. No saying what another Umbrella employee could've done to him and gotten away with it, seeing as to how their employer had almost total control of his city, and Irons wasn't sure if he was irreplaceable in the eyes of his superiors.

"You have no idea how lucky you are that you're so valued. For whatever reason that is, I don't know", Irons changed the subject, still furious over the obstacles created in his true job for Umbrella by the new undercover operative, "If it wasn't for our employer's intervention, you'd be in a jail cell, looking at life right now".

"Thanks for the speech, so you got anything to do for me besides hurting my eyes by forcing me to look at you? These sunglasses are only _so_ thick", 

Wesker's hands went to rest in his trousers pocket.

"I came to deliver you a message", Irons' mouth twisted into an enraged glare as he was forcing the limits of his self-restraint, "Our bosses decided that you'd be doing a better job for us as a higher-ranking member of the RPD rather than a footsoldier. They have plans for you to move up the police corporate ladder".

"Really, I suppose I should be flattered", the younger man replied, 

"Through the academy and up to, what, lieutenant or captain, all within a few months?".

"Captain should be good enough", the chief let him know, "At least that way, you'll eventually be set up with your own command and be out of this building, and thus out of my hair".

"At least the hair that's left", Wesker grinned again. He wasn't sure whether he was intentionally trying to bait Irons into a fight or not, but he did decide that it was best to not draw any more attention to himself, at least for some time. If his employers were truly displeased about his actions at the hospital the previous day, then he had enough to worry about without getting into a fistfight where he placed another Umbrella employee in the intensive care unit.

"This is all the information you'll need", Irons fortunately ignored the comment and withdrew a medium-sized envelope out of his uniform.

Without opening the packet, the police chief slapped it onto Wesker's chest before the younger officer took a hold of the envelope.

"It's information about a hoodlum who's terrorized Raccoon City for ages now. Has more rapes, robberies and murders to his credit than he can count", the chief informed him as Wesker withdrew the content of the envelope and looked at it.

Inside was the picture of a man who was somewhat younger than the undercover security guard, along with his name written on the image that described him as 'Ivan K. Bradshell'. Behind the picture was written an address.

"In another place and time, Ivan here would've been a good employee for Umbrella", Irons went on.

"Don't be ridiculous", the younger officer chastised him as he kept eyeing the picture, surveying any characteristics about the face that may come in handy for when he tries to find the person himself.

"Either way, this isn't another place and time", the chief added, "Ivan now is a tool that White Umbrella would like you to use. You go after him, take him into custody or kill him using whatever methods are necessary, and our contacts at the Raccoon Press will make you an overnight hero. White Umbrella will use that publicity to catapult you to captain status, thus giving you the chance to actually be useful for our employers".

"Such an angry man you are", Wesker shook his head in mock sympathy, "But that's OK. I'd be annoyed too if hookers raised their prices when they saw me approaching them".

Irons' eyes bulged as his teeth kept pressing against each other. He could barely hold on to the sides of his clothes in an effort to not strike his younger antagonist, but luckily for them both, he did not have the chance to lose his temper. 

"With that in mind, this here is officer Francine Carnovaley", Irons motioned to the officer who was still standing at attention behind him.

It was only then that his assistant took two steps forward, putting herself in between the two men and making eye contact with Wesker as she nodded her head once in greeting.

It was also then that Wesker realized who she was. He recognized her as the woman that he and the two paramedics had rescued after she had overdosed in the run-down house a few days ago. Yet here she was, as a police officer, no less. It was obvious that she did not find him familiar, though, since she had been unconscious upon being brought to the hospital and left in the emergency room.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with her?", Wesker thought out loud without returning the younger woman's salute.

"Seeing as to how you can't be wholly entrusted to carry out Umbrella's missions to the letter, she's your partner till you prove you can be counted on", Irons spoke from behind her.

"Very funny, fat boy", the younger man shook his head, "Umbrella knows I work alone. And if they didn't, they do now".

"I promise you that it'd be easier to go along with this plan than it would be to fight us on it", Carnovaley spoke for the first time, still without moving and continuously staring into her new partner's eyes.

"Get real! I'm not...", Wesker started to snarl.

"Which would be easier?", the lady interrupted in a calm voice, 

"Whining nonstop or going along with these pre-set plans? You _are_ familiar with your employers' track record in regards to us when we are unsatisfied with the assignments, no?".

As much as the undercover security guard hated having to admit it, he had to tell himself that she was correct. Regardless of how valued an Umbrella employee he thought he was, he'd never be freed to do his job if he barged into Claymont's office and demanded that he be given more discretion with how he did his job.

"You're riding in the back seat", Wesker replied after having thought about his predicament for a short time.

He then walked past both individuals and headed towards the door to leave the interrogation room.

"This guy will be off the streets by tonight", the officer promised to himself more so than to the chief.

++++++++++++++++++++

"Are you holding up OK?", were the first words out of Frost's mouth when he saw Wesker returning to his second-floor desk once he emerged from the cramped basement.

"Just fine", the older officer bluntly replied, his mind more on the information he had received earlier on than anything else.

"I couldn't believe I heard your name on the news yesterday", the younger man did not get Wesker's hint that he wanted to be left alone for now, and thus approached his work area, with concern showing on his face more than any other emotion, "What the hell happened in the hospital, Wes? Why did you confront the suspect to begin with? You had said you were just going to talk to the guy we had helped yesterday".

"Joseph, I really don't have time for this", the Umbrella spy finally interjected, wishing that Frost wasn't full of natural curiosity, "I have to go out on the patrol that I'm already late for".

"Anything you need me to do?", Frost asked, too stubborn for his own good.

"Not really, I just want to put the entire event out of my mind. 

Besides, I'm good with IAD, so that's all that matters. Everything else can either wait or doesn't matter".

He did not wish to divulge too much information to his eager colleague, knowing that Umbrella expected him to arrest the target who was named in the envelope all by himself. Any non-Umbrella company while taking Ivan Bradshell into custody would complicate his employers' efforts to make sure that he alone got credit for the action, thus ensuring a large gratuity for their spy alone. Frost was also the kind of zealous officer who'd never allow him to confront a dangerous opponent by himself, insisting on coming along for the sake of his safety. So the less Joseph Frost knew about his plans for the day, the better off they'd both be, Wesker reasoned.

"I'll see you later on this afternoon when I get back", he addressed Frost one more time as he looked over his schedule.

It was then that he saw a list of dots and dashes handwritten in ink and attached to the surface of the young man's desk with adhesive.

"What the hell is this?", he asked, pointing down at the sheet of paper.

"That? Oh, it's morse code. I had it memorized from my days in the Navy Reserves", Joseph informed him.

"What is it doing here?", Wesker tried to not sound annoyed.

"I just put it there as a souvenir of my military experience, that's all. Besides, one never knows when one may need to use morse code, you know", the younger officer replied.

"Yeah, right", the older officer continued looking over his own desk till his spotted his schedule. 

Not surprisingly, he had been assigned to car patrol for the day. That made sense considering he was expected to bring his target back into custody. That's assuming Ivan Bradshell actually survived by not resisting arrest, and it was much easier to transport someone back to the police station by tossing him or her into the backseat of a police cruiser than it was to make someone walk the entire distance. So grabbing the car keys that were waiting for him, Wesker turned away from his desk as well as fellow officer and headed outside.

"Did you do the write-ups from yesterday, at least?", Frost called out after him, but without following him this time.

"Fuck it, I'll do it when I get back", was the only answer he got.

"Are you _trying_ to get fired, Wes?", the more experienced cop raised his voice to be heard while Wesker kept distancing himself as he got closer to the stairs leading outside.

The shaded and less experienced officer smiled as he slowly shook his head. Poor Joseph, he still thinks that this bullshit matters, Wesker thought as he left the station. A dark and gray overcast of thick clouds greeted him as he stepped outside.

++++++++++++++++++++

The ride to Bradshell's location was uneventful, with the only aspect for him to notice being that he had to keep his eyes on the road instead of constantly combing his surroundings, as he had been trained to do for as long as he could remember when working for Umbrella's security branch. His instinct was to scrutinize every person who appeared to not be heading towards some, specific destination but was instead standing around street corners. But for now, at least, Wesker had to suppress that impulse and just drive towards his objective. He was pleased with how smoothly the RPD patrol cars rode, at least, as he couldn't even feel the effect of navigating the vehicle over a speedbump.

"_Have_ to find out where these guys get their transmitions looked at", he uttered to himself as he approached the address which was written within the envelope that sat on the dashboard.

Seated on the front passenger seat next to him, officer Carnovaley looked to her left, almost ready to give a response.

"You're not here, remember?", Wesker stopped her from saying anything even before she had, already not sure how she found herself in the front seat despite his last statement to her when they were in the interrogation room.

Driving by, they saw that Ivan Bradshell's address was a low-income, residential home above a vacant salon store. Other homes on that block were located on top of other places of business, most of whom were operating and people could be seen walking in and out of them. But Bradshell's home had the distinction of being one of only three on that street that rested above an empty business, which one assumes suited the criminal just fine.

He did not wish to park right outside the address, so Wesker kept steering the police cruiser until it was past the block and then turned a sharp left at the first intersection. He parked the car next to several other vehicles just around the corner.

After unfastening his safety belt, he took a hold of the envelope and reviewed its contents one last time. 

He made sure to remember Bradshell's face before returning his target's picture back inside the thin package. Inhaling and exhaling once, the Umbrella operative then shut off the engine, withdrew the car keys and finally exited the vehicle. He saw that he wasn't alone as his new partner had left the patrol car with him, because she slammed the front passenger door shut also.

"Uhuh", Wesker shook his right index finger in front of his face, "I go in alone. You stay here and wait for me to carry him out".

"That's not what the orders were and you know it, Albert", she sighed, whether it was at frustration at not being able to follow her instructions from White Umbrella or annoyance at being told to miss the action was unclear.

"I. Work. Alone", he repeated, slowly and trying to sound as menacing as possible when he knew he wasn't planning to threaten someone.

A long period of silence followed as both undercover officers locked eyes. Neither one of them looked away.

"When I drag this guy to jail, you can go bitch at the powers that be if you wish. But till then, you're not following me up to that house. Unless you think that having us go at it now would help the mission at hand".

Carnovaley seemed to relent in her desire to accompany him, but her facial expression alone told him that he hadn't heard the end of this. So she checked her weapon, but stood still as she leaned slightly against the vehicle and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Finally moving past the line of automobiles, Wesker suddenly jumped in his place as the car next to him screamed with its anti-theft alarm. The blaring siren was loud enough to be heard from at least a hundred yards away, so being just next to the vehicle was more than he cared to be hearing, especially for a car that wasn't even being physically touched. Suppressing the desire to use his Desert Eagle to silence the alarm, Wesker continued walking towards the address of his intention. 

He did not seem to attract much attention from pedestrians, which was fine with him, as he appeared to be an officer who's on foot patrol or one who's on car patrol but who had stopped to run an errand.

Once at the front door, he discovered that it was locked, as expected. 

No doorbell was found, and since the living quarters were on the second floor, Wesker did not have much trouble guessing that a staircase was behind this first bolted entrance that met him.

So withdrawing his Desert Eagle pistol, the officer balanced himself on his left leg as he was about to confront a rather dangerous criminal or, if Umbrella was mistaken about Bradshell's location, about to apologize after terrifying an innocent civilian. He delivered his right leg through the door in a front kick, aiming for the area just next to the doorknob. The wooden door burst open with an eruption of bolts.

A blaring noise following that of the broken door emerged from inside the small building. Wesker didn't know how, but he felt himself being thrown three steps back before he landed hard on his back, feeling as if a giant invisible monster had punched him hard in the chest. Clearing his mind as his legs rested on the sidewalk and upper body lay on the street next to it, he suddenly found it difficult to concentrate as residents who were passing by were either frozen in shock, gasping or simply screaming.

Lifting the back of his head off the hard asphalt, Wesker groggily climbed back to a standing position as he surveyed the ground near him since his right hand was empty. He spotted his firearm lying by his feet, where it had landed as it was dropped, so he briskly picked it back up with his right hand. At least the glasses hadn't been knocked off his face, he thought, not finding it odd that he was concerned about the shades even at a time like this. 

It was only then that he saw the 3-inch wide hole around the solar plexus area his uniform. The attire fabric had been ripped apart by a large-caliber bullet, but the kevlar vest that waited just behind his uniform made it so that he only felt a burning sensation in his chest, as opposed to having a giant hole blown into his upper body.

Wesker ignored the small crowd gathering around him and peered through the open doorway before he carefully walked through it, weapon at the ready, but still aimed towards the sky. Once inside, he caught sight of the staircase that led upstairs to a second door, and a sawed-off, 12-gauge shotgun that was strapped to the handrail and aimed at the door. A fancy contraption of wires attached from the door to the large firearm's trigger was designed to kill anyone who attempted to open the door itself, and the trap was fancy enough so as to not be easily put together and taken apart on a regular basis.

"He doesn't use the front door, Wes, you idiot!", he admonished himself for not driving around the back of the block to see if this house had a back door to it also, which he now was sure that it did.

Infuriated at his lack of preparation as much as his target's brazen ambush, the officer rushed upstairs, climbing two and three steps at a time till he was just outside the second door that led to the apartment.

Wesker flattened his back against the right part of the wall that followed the staircase, thus having the second closed door to his own right side. Switching the firearm from his right hand to his left one, he then bent his right arm at the elbow before sending it towards the middle of the door.

The door did not break open as a jolt of pain traveled from his right elbow to the rest of his arm, and then to the right side of his chest. Screaming, Wesker retained the arm in the same fashion and delivered a second blow into the middle of the door, ignoring the increasing pain that occurred from the new impact.

The door broke open with a gentler thump, but was forced open nonetheless. A subsequent trap from inside the apartment blasted a shotgun round through the opening at anyone who might've been standing in the doorway. Hearing and feeling the bullet shoot through the open doorway, and thus missing him while he kept his body flattened against the wall, Wesker finally found his opportunity to strike. Moving away from the wall and facing the opening, he gripped his weapon with both hands and pointed it inside.

"FREEZE, MOTHERFUCKER!!", was the only order he could think of yelling as he spotted the same man from the picture, but who was now in the living room.

"FUCK YOU, COP!!", Bradshell screamed back in a rage as he was desperately shoving several thick sachets of cash into a backpack. 

With the backpack only containing half the money that he wanted to put into it, the younger felon hastily zipped up the bag as he used his left hand to withdraw a pistol that had been tucked into his belt.

Two shots fired from Bradshell's weapon, one slamming into the edge of the doorway while the other went through the area where Wesker had been standing a fraction of a second after the officer dove to his right again and flattened his back against the wall for the second time.

Inhaling, Wesker replaced himself in the doorway as he took aim and fired at his opponent once while he exhaled. He was disappointed that his shot did not hit the target as the criminal was already bolting towards the back of the apartment.

Bradshell scrammed towards the door at the back of his home, carrying the backpack on his shoulder with the right hand and waving the gun with a left grip. While aiming at the middle of the fleeing man's back with the barrel of the Desert Eagle, Wesker was ready to pull the trigger a second time, thus ending the hunt where he stood.

At least, that's what he thought. As he was about to fire the service weapon, Bradshell darted to his left instead of keeping on his straight path towards the back door. While the suspect suddenly dove in the left direction, a second bullet fired out of the officer's firearm and tore a large hole in the door that he was previously running for. 

The felon, on the other hand, ran into an adjacent bedroom, with Wesker several steps behind him.

"You can't get away! Turn yourself in now!", the officer commanded as he chased his prey deeper into the residence.

He did not get a reply. Instead, he only saw Bradshell soaring head-first through the only window in the bedroom.

Slowing down from the rush forward, Wesker lifted his right arm to protect his face from the explosion of glass as his opponent disappeared through the now-broken gap.

"Well, that sure was unexpected", the older pursuer sighed.

He needed a moment to ponder if he wanted to jump through the window also, especially as he heard Bradshell's continued footsteps on the ground below. But he ultimately decided against it, since even Umbrella's orders were not needed to be followed at the risk of one's life and limb if it was not totally necessary.

"Stop wasting time, Albert", he turned around and rushed back towards the front door, hoping that his enemy did not have too big a head start.

----------------------------------------

Running back downstairs and onto the sidewalk, he ignored the surprised pedestrians who were still gathering around the broken front door and bolted to the nearest end of the block, looking to turn the corner and make his way towards the back of Bradshell's house.

It was only as he dashed around the corner that he heard Carnovaley's voice screaming "FREEZE, POLICE!", even though he still could not see her or Ivan Bradshell. 

He finally spotted his parked police cruiser and his newly-acquired partner pointing a 9mm Glock pistol before he then heard a burst of gunfire.

What sounded like repeated explosions of firecrackers followed. Carnovaley was squatted down behind the hood of the car as her arms were extended over it, her firearm discharging repeated at Bradshell, who was firing at her with his own weapon as he ran towards her position.

"IVAAAAAAAAN!!!", was the only word that escaped Wesker's snarled lips as he leveled his own Desert Eagle and took aim at his enemy while he continued running towards the criminal.

Wesker fired once, twice, and finally three times, without even being able to count the numerous shots exchanged between his fellow Umbrella operative and their opponent. The entire event felt like it was being played in slow motion, but in truth lasted less than five seconds.

Bullet holes riddled the hood and windows of the police car as one 9mm round had found its mark in Bradshell's right thigh. Knowing that none of his three rounds had struck their target, Wesker then caught up with the felon while the wanted criminal was still several steps away from the mangled patrol cruiser.

A hard tackle caught Bradshell from behind by the waistline, forcing the young offender to fly forward before he landed face-first on the solid pavement with his shaded pursuer still pinned on top of him. The younger man retained the grip on his handgun despite the blow, even as the backpack flew out of his other hand. Opting to raise his left arm and aiming the firearm in the general direction above and behind him, Bradshell felt Wesker as the officer wrestled for control of his left wrist. The Umbrella operative's left hand seized his opponent's left wrist as he maintained his right hand's hold on the handle of the Desert Eagle.

The criminal's weapon discharged once as Wesker had made sure it was pointed towards the sky and away from him. The officer next felt Bradshell's right arm clawing at his thigh in an effort to distract him away from the felon's left hand. Growing tired of the competition for control of the other man's weapon, Wesker finally swung the Desert Eagle into the back of Bradshell's skull, bringing his right hand down on the other man's head with as much force as he could afford.

The wanted offender screamed in pain, the left hold on his own weapon weakening, though not letting go of the weapon. Wesker used his superior strength to lastly grab the barrel of Bradshell's gun and twisted it out of the criminal's hand, even as the younger man managed to pull the trigger two more times before he had lost all control over it.

With his own weapon in his right hand and his opponent's handgun in the left one, the pseudo lawman sent Bradhsell's own weapon slamming into the back of the criminal's head, this time knocking him unconscious. Satisfied that his rival was no longer moving, at least for the time being, Wesker proceeded to stand up on his own two feet, feeling glad that the mission was over.

"Stupid son of a bitch had a harder head than I thought, Car", he grimaced as he holstered his Desert Eagle and used that freed right hand to withdraw a pair of handcuffs out is his uniform.

He didn't hear Carnovaley's response as he bent down to secure the unconscious suspect's wrists behind the man's own back.

"How about if you see if the patrol car's working to drag this deadweight back to headquarters, since have to radio for a car if it's not", Wesker added as he completed handcuffing Bradshell.

Still no reply from his partner.

"Car?", Wesker looked up to where he had last seen her a few seconds ago as he stood back at his full height, wondering why she was being silent.

His eyes widened when he saw Francine Carnovaley lying prone on her back several yards away, with her eyes open and a large pool of blood behind her head. 

"_Car?!_", the officer raised his voice as he quickly ran towards the spot where she lay on the ground. 

Nearing her, he only had to look down into her open and unresponsive eyes to realize that she had been shot in the head.

"Oh, fuck, how did this happen?", he thought out loud as he reached for the small radio set strapped on his left shoulder before pressing the familiar button and howling into it, "Officer down! Gunshot wound _to the head_! EMT to my location NOW! Do you copy my location, operator?".

A short buzz over his radio receiver first.

"Copy your location, officer Wesker. EMT en route", came the reply.

Ignoring the crowd that was gathering around both fallen individuals, the officer kneeled down next to his new partner, first placing his right index and middle fingers on the side of her neck.

No pulse.

"Come on, Car!", he exclaimed, dropping Bradshell's weapon on the ground next to him, not considering the surrounding crowd that might've had a chance to pick it up.

He proceeded to administer CPR as the distant sound of an ambulance was heard rushing towards him.

"Everyone here better let the EMT's through to me as soon as they're here!", he barked at the crowd around him even as he kept looking down at the body he was trying to resuscitate, "I will personally shoot ANYONE who delays their reaching of me!".

+++++++++++++

The countdown on the camera started at the number 3. Following that was the number 2, then the number 1 before the lens was focused on the news reporter who was seated behind his desk.

"Welcome to Eye On News, I'm Peter Jacobs sitting in for Emily 

Corrie-Smith tonight. Big news we're following for you tonight is the apparent death of a Raccoon City police officer earlier today on the streets of the city. Officer Francine Carnovaley, shown here in her police department photo, was shot and killed when she and her partner traded gun fire with a suspect. That suspect, Ivan Bradshell, was taken into custody. The entire police department, as well as the city, seems to be in a state of shock tonight while mourning the loss of this 27-year old, four-year veteran of the force, in what is the first death of a law enforcement officer in the line of duty in about two and a half years".

Jacobs stopped for an instant as he switched his seated position, looking away from the original camera and staring into the lens of a second one, as instructed.

"We go live now to reporter Lu-Anne Lee outside police headquarters where police chief Irons is scheduled to give a press conference to hopefully answer some questions about this tragedy. Lu-Anne?".

"Thank you, Peter", the second reporter answered as another camera that had been parked outside the police station focused on her. 

She was standing outside on an overcrowded sidewalk with a handheld microphone aimed up towards her chin as photos were being taken of the front door behind her.

"Chief Irons _is_ expected to be out here any minute now to shed some light on what happened earlier today with officers Carnovaley and Wesker, that being the deceased officer's partner who had also come into contact with this dangerous fugitive and who had taken him into custody after incapacitating him. Preliminary reports state that these two officers were out on routine patrol when they apparently spotted Bradshell as he was entering a house. It seems that either one or both of these officers recognized him as being on the Raccoon PD's most wanted list and tried to apprehend him. That's when, it seems, Bradshell pulled out a gun and gunfire was exchanged between all three individuals".

Reporter Lee stopped briefly amid bursts of flash as pictures were still being taken.

"It should be noted, Peter, that we're not sure of the condition for officer Wesker. We think...".

She stopped mid-sentence amid whispers of her fellow journalists.

"It appears as if police chief Irons is coming towards us right now, Peter, so let's listen in".

Irons stepped out of the front, main door of the RPD station, followed by Wesker as the former was dressed in his usual suit while the latter had the official police uniform on. The pair was surrounded by fellow officers as they stood at a newly-erected wooden platform and waited for the hushed murmurs to totally quiet down while more pictures were taken of them. Irons relaxed while Wesker rigidly stood at attention with his right wrist clasped in his left fingers behind his back, his face revealing no emotions behind the sunglasses as his jaw was firmly shut.

Irons first cleared his throat in front of the sturdy microphone to test out its effectiveness.

"We regret to inform that officer Francine Carnovaley was pronounced dead on arrival at Raccoon City Hospital at 11:27 AM today. Cause of death was a gunshot wound above the left eye. We will take questions now, at least the ones we _can_ answer".

"How is officer Wesker?", one reporter raised his voice to be heard.

More pictures followed.

Irons took a glance behind him, taking sight of his fellow Umbrella operative, before turning back to the small crowd.

"I'm happy to say that officer Albert Wesker was able to escape injury while taking this murderer down", the chief let everyone know, "Any other questions?".

"Was the suspect hurt?", another reporter asked.

"Bradhshell only experienced minor injuries to the face and chest while struggling with officer Wesker after officer Carnovaley had been shot. 

He is currently at RC Hospital, under guard, obviously, waiting for his arraignment tomorrow in front of a state magistrate. He will then be charged with first degree murder, possession of an illegal firearm, being a fugitive from justice, along with several previous charges of murder, robbery, burglary and the sale of controlled substances that were in place pending his apprehension. We plan to ask that he be held without bail".

"Which officer recognized the suspect?", a third newsman questioned once Irons was finished.

"Perhaps I should let officer Wesker answer for himself", the chief motioned behind him.

"That would have been me", Wesker dryly replied as the chief motioned him towards the wooden platform, "Just recognized this son of a bitch from memory. Though I wish I hadn't now".

More pictures taken of his face as his eyes hid behind the sunglasses and every word he uttered was recorded, filmed or written down.

*********************

"It's too bad about that chick, but what's done is done, Al", Irons went on as he was addressing Wesker in the privacy of his own office, "There's no need for you to be taking this personally, but if anything, her death only endeared the idea of you as Raccoon's newest boyscout to the sheep who watch TV and read the newspapers. That's exactly what your bosses wanted".

The chief of police leaned back on his special armchair as a massive desk separated the two men.

"Swell, am I done now?", the younger officer, "As much as I admire your compassion towards those who are dead, I'd rather be somewhere more friendly, like the inside of a hunter's cage".

"Cute boy, you are", the chief chuckled, "Umbrella _must_ be keeping you around for your charm".

"Up yours, _chief_", Wesker's voice remained calm as he turned to head towards the door that would lead him out of the office.

"Don't take your wrath out on your superiors just because you got your partner killed, boy", Irons guffawed, freezing the younger man in place as he had gripped the doorknob and was already halfway opening the door.

He had enough stress for one day. He was thus going to make Irons pay for that comment.

Wesker slammed the door shut instead, locked it, and turned back to face his older antagonist.

"Listen, Goodyear, _you're_ the one who made me take a drug addict with me!", the tone of his voice was a few degrees higher, but he still refrained from screaming. 

They had to keep up with the pretense of Irons being in charge for the sake of all the non-Umbrella employees, after all. But it didn't mean that Wesker liked it.

"And don't even try telling me that you did not know how far gone that girl was. She had the most bloodshot eyes I've seen in a long time, even if I _hadn't_ helped carry her overdosed body to the hospital a short while ago. It's one thing if Umbrella is desperate enough to have her running around in a job where drugs are available without any supervision, but to give her a gun as well?! Were you _waiting_ for her to die or kill someone else?".

"Like I said, you did your mission for the day", Irons' own tone of voice became colder as he was faced with the accusation.

The chief rested his elbows on the desk as he leaned forward on it.

"Now get your ass home and don't make the news till _we_ deem it appropriate for you".

"That was NOT the apology I was expecting", Wesker's demeanor returned to its usual, cool one.

The younger officer casually walked over to the chief's desk and leaned forward to face the older man before gripping the back of Irons' head with his right hand.

Irons gasped in surprise and tried to free the powerful hold on his head, first by twisting his head and next by gripping Wesker's right wrist and desperately attempting to pull the forearm off. When neither tactic worked, the chief instinctively reached for his service pistol as it was resting on his belt holster, a move that was expected by the younger operative and easily countered. Wesker reached down and gripped Irons' forearm before the older man had a chance to touch the weapon, and then pressed the chief's face into the flat, wooden desk. He shoved the face downwards with enough force to cause pain, but was careful to not leave any markings, for the same reason of appearance that he made sure to not be heard outside of the office.

As the older Umbrella employee moaned and gasped in anguish, his second, free hand uselessly clawing at Wesker's right arm, the younger man brought his face down to within inches of his purported superior.

"You're to be more careful around me from now on, right, _boss_?", Wesker demanded, speaking to the back of the other man's head.

"Aaaaaaammmmmfffffff! Get ooooooof!!", was the only reply.

"I'm sorry, chief", Wesker calmly looked back up, staring ahead of him as his arms kept his adversary's face pressed against the desk, "I just couldn't hear what you were saying. What was that? You apologize for being such a waste of space?".

"Umbrella will have your head for this, you asshole!!", Irons was getting louder.

"Doubtful, chief", the expressionless young man replied as he kept his shielded eyes on the wall ahead of his own face, "I would even go so far as wagering that you are nothing more than a lackey for our respectable employer, one to be used and then discarded when no longer convenient to have around. After all, if you had been doing your job of keeping the RPD under control, why would they be so eager to have _me_ promoted and in a position of power in this department? And I still don't hear that apology, chief".

"Fuck yooouuuaaaaaAAAMMMFFF!", was Irons' comeback as Wesker pressed his face into the desk even harder halfway though the statement.

"Why don't you take a guess as to which one of us can keep this up longer, chief?", Wesker followed through.

"I'm sorry, allright?! I'm SORRY!!", Irons finally cried out.

"It wasn't so hard to admit it, see?", the lower-ranking pseudo-officer released the grip on his head and let him jerk his head back up.

Irons was still recovering from the recent trauma when Wesker turned away from his desk for the second time and walked back towards the door. He was unlocking it to leave by the time he heard Irons talking again, this time with a normal voice.

"You little NOBODY! Do you really think you'll get away with this??"

"And please remember your declining status with Umbrella and my rising one before you debate taking your pathetic revenge on me or my own colleagues", the shaded officer added as he exited.

"Some big fucking heart you have, right? That you care so much about some crackhead whore. Must mean you care about every person who you fail to rescue when working at Umbrella Security, even the ones you brush off as a statistic while on the job", Irons angrily spat from behind him.

Wesker's facial expression didn't change. It only took him a short moment to stop in place and consider what he had just heard. Whatever might've troubled him stayed in his mind only and away from his face, even if Irons had been able to see his eyes during the one instant he froze, which the RPD chief did not.

*********************

"You wanna talk about what's happened out there?", the question was amicable and genuine, as opposed to the constant pretense he had to put up with while undercover for the last four months.

Wesker looked up from his desk to see Joseph Frost's saddened face returning his glance as the more youthful man was casually seated on the surface of the desk itself.

"Not particularly", the older man replied, knowing he couldn't and wouldn't tell his co-worker the truth anyway, "I don't see the point. Just yearning to pack up the weaponry and go home. It's been too long a day. And don't start with me about how I'm behind in the paperwork either".

"I wasn't gonna mention that", Frost shook his head, as if his colleague should've known better than to think the paperwork was foremost on his mind, "But I don't understand what's going on with you, Wes".

"How so, youngster?", was the reply as he stood back up from his desk with both the Glock and Desert Eagle as well as all their ammunition in a cardboard box.

"What was said in that conference wasn't true, I _know_ it wasn't", 

Frost followed him as he started walking away, "You two didn't recognize Bradshell while on routine patrol. You don't even _do_ routine patrol with a partner, you drive alone. I know you and Francine were sent after Bradshell on purpose".

"Maybe we were, so what?", he kept looking straight ahead as he made his way towards the exit, always avoiding eye contact with the young man, even if his face was hidden behind the glasses.

"If you knew you were being sent on a dangerous assignment, why the hell wouldn't you ask for my help?", Frost demanded, his voice getting more instigating, "For someone who's so adamant about others calling you if they need help, you don't call us when the shoe's on the other foot? You should've had _every_ person here gunning for Bradshell instead of just you and Francine. You don't trust us, is that it?".

"Joseph, just let this one go, please", Wesker kept his monotone steady.

He was sure that the lack of looking at the younger officer was getting on Frost's nerves by now, but he just couldn't think of what else to do. 

Confiding in him was clearly not an option, nor was telling Frost that he wasn't informed of Bradshell to insure that only Umbrella operatives got credit for the arrest.

"Fine", the more experienced officer sighed in disappointment, "Then go home and brood all night long. At least you won't be alone with the goddamn media hounding you and asking for interviews".

Wesker kept his mouth shut rather than state the fact that the last statement mentioned was the only factor his true employer cared about.

"One hell of a poster boy you became all of a sudden", Frost added as the older officer made his way down the steps, "You're the flavor of the month for this city until they get bored and find something else, huh?".

Wesker didn't respond as he headed for the main exit on the first floor, and his colleague didn't follow him downstairs. 

It was too bad that the young man was so inquisitive after one colleague that he was familiar with was now dead and another one refused to inform him of what truly happened. But either way, the Umbrella infiltrator knew that Frost would never find out the truth as his real employer was too well hidden within the RPD, and that was ultimately all that mattered, at least for now.

*********************

It was one of those rare instances when he was dreaming but, at the same time, knew that it was only a nightmare and not a real experience.

Wesker found himself wearing what felt like were unusual clothes, since it was not the navy blue of the Raccoon PD or the khaki of the Umbrella 

Security outfits. Instead, he was dressed in blue jeans and an untucked T-shirt, but always with his customary sunglasses on his face. The first idea in his dozing mind was that he could not remember the last time he had such casual attire on, but he didn't get to wonder about that thought for long because the monsters soon appeared.

They were normal at first, or at least as normal as such unnatural creatures could be. Hunters tried to claw at him with their massive arms. He threw them back with the ease that he realized could only occur in a hallucination when it comes to dealing with those attackers. Next came the giant bees, as large as an adult human's fist and wrist, trying to sting him by the dozens. 

One effortless wave of his right arm pushed all of them back. Large cockroaches that were the size of his leg, dogs whose bodies had been ravaged by one virus or another as well as frogs that stood as tall as his torso came third, but those didn't even try to strike against him. They instead held back, surveying their prey cautiously, as if they were afraid to charge, but not afraid of Wesker himself, but more scared of taking away quarry of a more powerful fiend. Then, all the hunters, bees, roaches, dogs and frogs simply disappeared, melting away into the foggy background of his mind's eye.

That's when any sense of normalcy ended.

The old creatures had been ones that he had seen many times while on the job, and also ones that he had to battle with too often. His former colleagues in the labs had sworn that it was not possible to create the ultimate biological weapon and the best defenses against it without repeatedly experimenting on live animals and even creating new ones like the hunter. As an Umbrella employee, Wesker knew that loyalty was given to his employer first, as nothing mattered more than the mission of making sure his country's government was the only one to have the weapon and its antidote. 

It was easy to imagine the horrors that dictators or warmongers could inflict if such power fell into the wrong hands, so any research into biological weaponry by those groups had to be bested. That's why the government allowed Umbrella to have full autonomy, after all. But still, Wesker's subconscious worried about even the remote possibilities of a virus being used for an improper reason by either his employer or by someone else if it was to ever be stolen. It didn't take much of an imagination to visualize what would happen to a human being if he or she came into contact with the same virus that turned a regular dog into a brute that consumed flesh incessantly. And that was even without the previous experience as a scientist for his company.

Hence, beasts that he had never seen in real life before, not even while as a member of Umbrella Security, were brought forth into his nightmare. People with no consciousness in their eyes slowly staggered towards him from every direction, their arms outstretched, as if desperately wishing to get their claw-like fingers into his body. Wesker could feel his heart racing in his chest, but he still would not react with his training in martial arts even if his trusted firearm was not by his side. He knew he should be scared, but wondered why he wasn't. He decided that it must've been because he knew this was just a dream and nothing genuine.

It was only when the slow zombies placed their hands upon his shoulder from all sides that they stopped moving, but still did not attack further. Wesker felt bored at this point, noticing that he was now more relaxed as the monsters in a grotesque imitation of humans simply returned his gaze. Then they melted into the ground without a sound, dozens of creatures just gone within an instant. What replaced them was an individual who was draped in black from head to toe and who jumped down from the sky and landed on the ground a few steps ahead of him with the grace of a cat. The new arrival squatted his legs at the impact against the ground and leaned forward to absorb the collision into his own body as he also gently touched the ground before him with his right hand. With their eyes locked, Wesker walked towards what appeared to be a ninja as the black-clad individual quickly stood back up to his natural height. 

It was only when they came within an arm's reach of one another that he realized the ninja's eyes were two horizontal gashes of bright blue. Otherwise, there was no color besides pitch black on the man's body, assuming he was a man, that is.

Wesker wanted to talk to him, he just didn't know why or what he wished to say. The security officer opened his mouth expecting to hear his own voice, but instead only heard a loud static noise emanating from his lips. Confused, he decided to make a second effort, thus closed his mouth and reopened it again. 

Same echoing noise followed.

He didn't have the time to be puzzled by the event again because he next woke up and found himself staring up at the dashboard of his patrol car. It was 5:47 AM and the radio that lay next to the driver's seat that he was strapped into via a seatbelt was ringing in a monotonous fashion. It had woken him up from a nap that he didn't even remember having taken as the police vehicle was parked inside a dark alley.

Feeling that the sunglasses were still on his face and had not moved, Wesker picked up the radio with his right hand, still not sure how he ended up here.

"Yeah?", he spoke into it.

"Officer Wesker, this is Mr. Claymont", the high-ranking Umbrella executive informed him in a voice that should not have been as cheerful as it sounded for this early in the morning.

"What is it?", the younger man sharply replied.

"I must first congratulate you on following Umbrella's orders with such efficiency, officer", came the answer.

No answer from Wesker, so Claymont waited an uneasy instant of silence and then continued.

"I must also ask that you report to the RPD early today, Albert. Our plan has come to fruition. Can you be there half an hour before your shift begins?".

"What plan would that be?".

"To have you promoted, of course", came the chuckled reply from the other end of the phone, as if he was asking a silly question, "It's all in place. The approval of the mayor as well as the chief has been received, of course, and following the recent heroics, the media will not be suspecting anything. You'll be in an exceptional position to serve your employer and your country, young man. So unless there's a problem...?".

That was Claymont's way of telling him to be at police headquarters early and stop asking questions.

"I'll be there", was the last thing Claymont heard before the radio was turned off by the younger operative.

Wesker kept sitting up in the driver's seat, staring ahead into space as his dark environment provided some comfort and security. 

Too bad it wouldn't last.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"All rise, this court is now in session", the announcement was made to the packed room by the sheriff's deputy, "The honorable James Jackson presiding. Have a seat and cease all conversations".

Everyone who had arrived in time to find a seat among the long wooden benches or the chairs that were lined up in front of the spectators' half of the courtroom stood up. About twenty others who had reached the large room later on in the morning had resolved to remain standing on the outside of those seating areas, so they simply remained on their feet as the middle-aged man in a black robe walked up to a raised platform. Among those who were standing were Wesker and Frost, their dark blue uniforms fading easily into the uniforms of many of their fellow officers.

"Good morning", judge Jackson addressed the crowd as he settled down behind his own desk that faced the massive assembly.

Some of those in the crowd who were either standing or returning to their seated position answered in kind while a court employee was reviewing the items on today's list and coordinating his schedule with that of the district attorney, public defender and sheriff's deputy.

"This is obviously a larger crowd than we usually get in here", the judge first announced, "And it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it's because of the Bradshell case. But please keep in mind, ladies and gentlemen, that we have several other cases that require our attention also, so we'll be doing them one at a time as quickly and efficiently as possible. If we don't get to your case right away, I ask that you please be patient and we'll knock all these cases out without going for a lunch break so as to get you out of here. First case, Mr. Chase?".

"That would be People Vs. Ivan Bradshell, your honor", the court employee replied, "Defendant is in custody and was brought down today from jail for his preliminary hearing. Does your honor wish to have him present?".

"Definitely, please sheriff", judge Jackson answered.

At the notice, the sheriff's deputy exited the courtroom and returned a few seconds later with one of his colleagues as they both led Bradshell towards the public defender's desk as his arms were handcuffed behind his back. Of the two chairs that were situated behind wooden desk, the left was already being used by the experienced public defender while the other one was empty. Upon reaching the seat, one deputy undid Bradshell's handcuffs while the other started giving him basic directions.

"Sit down, pull the chair in and place both your hands over the desk at all times. Do you understand?", were the strict commands.

Bradshell nodded once, preferring not to talk due to the swollen jaw that rendered speaking difficult.

"I need a verbal answer", the court stenographer spoke up as he was recording every word that was spoken.

"Answer out loud", the deputy's tone of voice demanded.

"Yes!", Bradshell finally replied.

"Mr. O'Donnell, do you need a moment?", the judge addressed the public defender who was next to the defendant.

"Yes, thank you, your honor", Bradshell's lawyer placed his hand over the microphone that was aimed towards him on the desk and started speaking with the client at his right.

The hushed conversation lasted about a minute with the defendant getting more agitated with the further they talked. Defender O'Donnell finally turned his attention back to the court by letting go of the microphone and placing himself closer to it as he stood up.

"Your honor, my client has instructed me to inform you, against my advice, that he is ready to forgo this preliminary hearing and plead guilty on most of the charges, but he vehemently denies having taken the life of officer Carnovaley. He also wished to ask this court if...", the public defender began repeating what he had been told to say.

"I'll plead guilty to whatever the fuck you clowns have evidence against me, OK?", Bradshell blurted out loud, interrupting his lawyer as he remained in a seated position, "I already know I'm doing life, but I ain't having to do with this shit where you railroad me to be a copkiller and give me the needle. Fuck that".

"Mr. Bradshell, due to the seriousness of the _many_ charges against you, I would strongly advise you only speak through your counsel for now and also watch your language when you're in my court", the judge shot back at him.

"Fine", the defendant stood up in a sarcastic display of respect, pointing to himself, "Then, _your honor_, I request that I be allowed to be plead guilty for all the _real_ charges against me. I did it, OK? I wacked four guys in the last three years for skimming money, and every one of them deserved it too".

The public defender placed his left hand on his own face and shook his head as he looked down at the desk in front of him.

"I told you to not address me and only speak through your lawyer at this stage. If you wish to address the court, you tell Mr. O'Donnell and he'll inform me of your intention to do so", the magistrate went on.

"Mr. Bradshell, as your counsel I must insist that you listen to his honor when he instructs you on how to behave in this...", the public defender turned to partially face his client as he spoke loud enough for the stenographer to hear.

"Hey, fuck your formalities!", Bradshell only got more provoked at the warnings.

"Allright, that's it!", judge Jackson used his right hand to pound the gavel against the striking spot on his bench and then pointed at the defendant with a left index finger, "If you don't quiet down, I am having you removed from this courtroom and we'll proceed without you. Do... you... understand?"

"You're in on it too! You just wanna needle me up for killing some bitch cop when it was probably her goddamn partner that blew her brains out! I get knocked out and when I wake up, someone tells me that I wasted someone that I didn't?! What kind of a system do you have running here?", Bradshell didn't even notice the two sheriff's deputies who had closed in on him as he was getting more belligerent.

Wesker's jaw tightened as he heard the criminal's last comments. In another place and time, he would've easily crossed the boundary that separated the audience from the court employees to put his hands on his antagonist, but he knew he had to stay back and let Bradshell go through due process, as much as he liked the idea of exacting vengeance on him personally.

"Sheriff, please remove this man from my room", the judge calmly instructed, giving the Umbrella operative what he wanted to see anyway.

It was all that was needed to have two deputies pin the defendant's upper body against the public defender's desk. Attorney O'Donnell took one step away from the desk and towards the general audience, as if he had experienced such an event one too many times while on the job, even as Bradshell's arms were handcuffed behind him again and he was dragged out of the courtroom.

"This isn't over! You ain't gonna kill me, you bitches! You haven't heard...", his outcries were muffled as he was led out of the room and the exit door was closed by one of the deputies.

"Anyway, let's do this again", judge Jackson sighed once the calm suddenly returned after the screaming was muted, "What's the situation with this guy?".

"Whether he wants to plead guilty or not to all the felony warrants against him, the people still wish to move forward and try the case for the murder of officer Francine Carnovaley, your honor", the district attorney informed him, standing up to address the court for the first time.

"Thank you, Mr. Houssan", the magistrate acknowledged, "Do you and the PD's office need a court date as of now?".

"It depends on when officer Wesker is available to testify, plus I'll require to have someone from the county labs here to affirm that the bullet that killed the officer came from the defendant and not, as he claims, from the officer's partner", the prosecutor chuckled at the thought.

Houssan then turned towards the audience, locking eyes with Wesker and nonverbally asking him if there was a day that he would not be able to appear in court. The officer, in turn, shook his head and slowly pronounced the words "any day" without saying them out loud, so the district attorney would understand.

"Does next week on this same day sound like a good date for you both to be here and have your witnesses ready?", the judge asked after their transaction was over.

"Yes, sir, no problem", the district attorney told him.

"We can be here too, your honor", O'Donnell stated, "But our office will need the copy of the ballistic report of that bullet too, of course, just to have it in our records".

"So that's done", judge Jackson sounded glad, "Next case?".

----------------------------------------

"Does that ignoramus actually expect anyone to believe that he didn't shoot Francine?", Wesker didn't know whether Frost was addressing him or just thinking out loud as the pair left the courtroom. 

The other sounds from inside faded behind them as the door closed and they walked towards the elevator.

"Of course he doesn't. He just knows that the killing of a police officer is the only one of the many charges against him that can cost him his life under this state's penal code", the older officer told him without making eye contact, "So he's desperate to try anything to save his miserable existence".

Once in the elevator and heading back downstairs to leave the court building, both men were alone as they traveled from the 8th floor to the ground level. Wesker standing almost as if at attention, but not quite, and staring straight ahead towards the metal double doors, his eyes always remained hidden behind the dark glasses. It didn't offer his younger colleague any opportunity to strike up a conversation, but Frost did so anyway as he leaned on the opposite right wall of the elevator and turned to face the older man.

"Hey Wes, about what I said last night...", Frost stopped in midsentence.

"What about it?", Wesker's head rotated slightly to his own right to look at him.

"I'm not sure how I sounded to you when I was going on and on about you being a media poster boy and the flavor of the month. I probably sounded more critical of you than I felt", Frost sounded carefully apologetic, "But I still don't take back what I said before that about you and Francine not calling for back-up. Why wouldn't you two think to call us?".

"Joseph, can't the end of this topic be reached if I tell you that she and I had been involved with a personal project for the chief and that's all you need to know about it?".

"Not when one of my friends from work is dead, Wes. I knew Francine. 

She was a good person. What if we could've kept you both out of harm's way by having fifty cops aiming a Glock each at that asshole's head?", the younger man sharply replied.

Wesker was tempted to reply that Frost could not have known her as well as he thought since he had no idea she was addicted to a controlled substance. Or that she was an Umbrella operative working within the police department much like himself. Or that he was forced to take her along when hunting for Bradshell due to being ordered to do so by an employer towards whom he had a higher allegiance than towards the police department. Or that Umbrella mandated that he take another undercover operative on the raid since he had proven himself to be too loose a cannon by instigating a shooting inside a hospital earlier. Or finally that he refused to have Carnovaley involved in the raid and instead kept her in the car as he went after Bradshell alone since he was concerned about her effectiveness in the line of fire, but his antagonist had run towards her by chance anyway. 

Instead, he kept his mouth shut and said nothing initially.

"I'm sorry your friend was killed", he finally uttered, deciding on speaking the only genuine thing he felt and could tell Frost, before returning his stare in front of him towards the elevator doors.


	3. Chapter 3 A Goddess reborn

December 15th 1995 

A tempest brewed, the skies clashing with the kind of violence that only nature can muster. Raccoon City was not used to seeing such brutality, so the storm warnings had been up for weeks. The gray clouds so dark, they were almost black, rolling over the horizon to encase the city in a dark fugue.

"THE STORM OF THE CENTURY!!!" the headlines screamed in black bold type. 

It was going to be huge and, despite the word of mouth speculations and warnings, its purpose was unknown. An electrical storm was indeed an enigma, completely unheard for both the time of year as well as the location. For the most part, the streets were deserted due to the blocked drains and over-spillage from the sewers that littered the sidewalk. The need to preserve cleanliness always reigning triumphant, the pedestrian thought to himself. On top of the stinking raw sewage floating around in the streets, the rain was drilling down so painfully hard that it could have easily been mistaken for hailstones. Many people had been informed that their place of work or education would be shut down as those who had braved the storm were bruised for their efforts. 

It was in the eye of this thunderstorm that a large vortex unfastened in the sky while reality was torn as easily as paper, the fabric itself being ripped apart, stepped on by some kind of force, unseen yet felt everywhere. The swirling of vibrant firecracker and Portuguese blue mixing into a warm purple sage centerpiece took on the temperament of a whirlpool. Beautiful beyond words, for those rare few who knew what it meant. Practically, no one could offer a logical explanation for what was going on. Despite this lack of explanation as to why Raccoon City was being hit by such a spectacle, people had just accepted the anomaly. 

Most people would not come this close to the manifestation, nor would they spend more than five minutes pondering on it before going back to being busy in their little houses, leading their little lives. That's what set him apart from the regular sheep, the lone figure had always thought. Albert Wesker lowered his shades, letting the unrelenting downpour run below his brow, the cold rainwater having little or no effect on his expression, for he already knew that working with Umbrella sometimes meant harsh physical regime. Someone had to feed the V-ACTS and most of the researchers were hardly qualified to fight their way out of a wet paper bag, never mind to brave the claws and teeth of the Elder. The Umbrella operative was here now to watch the proceedings unfold. 

Of course no explanation was given, just that this event was to be watched and carefully documented. 

So must've had something to do with Umbrella, Albert Wesker mused. Most of the unusual happenings in this town did.

++++++++++++++++++++

"I really hope this is worth it". 

Stifling a fresh wave of sobbing, I turn my head over my shoulder because I just know that if I twist my whole body around I won't be able to leave him again, that it will be physically impossible. I must have been crying since I found out I had to go, that was days ago. After everything we have gone through, to have to part again. I just can't do it… I can't, but I have to! There is no other way. But surely there must be? I can't believe of all people to have to go, why me? Why can't they send someone who's actually good instead of taking me away from here? Hanging my head isn't going to make it any easier but if those eyes are torn away quickly from my own maybe it will hurt less. I take one last look into the eyes of the man I owe everything to. 

"Goodbye my love". 

They said this was going to hurt, but how could someone explain how something like this would feel? The closest sensation is like when someone walks over your grave except it's that feeling balled into a fist and rammed into your jaw. Your skin is freezing but on the inside, you're burning up. Although it only lasts a few minutes at most, the paralysis makes it seem like eons longer. There is a sense of helplessness, which comes about with losing all control of your muscles. Must be what it's like to get old or be old. Not that this was the time for that kind of thought, but being in limbo and about one hundred thousand other things caused my chain of thought to acquire a life of its own. It is just dawning on me that this is the first time that I've ever had to run away. First time that whatever problem was, it couldn't just be solved with my fists. Never had to do this before. I do NOT like running away. I know it's too dangerous for me to stay but leaving? What did running away ever solve for anyone? For fuck sake, they NEED me there. He needs me there, with him. When I get my hands on that bastard, the one who caused _this_, I'll kill him. I can't do it myself though, I can't kill him alone. At least not yet, not while I am so young, he's got so much on me, but I'll get him. If it fucking kills me I am going to get him for this. If I could just control it then maybe no more innocent people would die. What is wrong with me?! And FUCK this is uncomfortable. Although what else can one expect when de-materializing from one realm to appear in a different reality? One where you don't exist, even. So am I going to just be nothing or does being there make it so I have always been? It must be the strangest thing in the world to watch yourself becoming in another world, like you watch your hands move and you look at them, yet your eyes are not there either, it's difficult, SO difficult to get to bearings when you first do because you could be literally anywhere…oh fuck. I, oh SHIT this is I'm oh god. They never said, how do I? Oh fuck I wonderhowmuchtimebeforeIsuffocate?! All the tightly compact earth is going to crush me! How far am I from the surface? I was suppose to be coming here so I would not die yet so what the fuck?! What have they done? This? I'm not supposed to be here. This is not what was supposed to happen FUCK; I'm going to suffocate down here. I'm going to.. Did he betray me? Did he send me here to die? I…can't believe, I'm going to die while running away. No I WON'T go this way. ~FUCK YOU~, YOU HEAR ME YOU ~BASTARD~?! I WON'T LET YOU WIN!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"This is Eye On News at 6:00. Hello, I'm Emily Corrie-Smith and welcome to Eye On News. Tonight's top story is a death that was reported by the Raccoon Department of Corrections. Prison officials _have_ confirmed today that alleged cop killer Ivan Bradshell, seen here in his arraignment photo, was found dead in his cell early this morning during a routine examination of the jail. According to the prosecutor's office and the department of corrections, Bradshell had committed suicide late last night after the last inspection just before midnight and before the first inspection this morning. Details of this scenario were given to Eye On News earlier this afternoon by the prosecutor's office".

The camera switched to a pre-recorded footage of the district attorney as he had held an earlier press conference. Prosecutor Eliam Houssan was describing components of the news event as he spoke in front of multiple television cameras and simultaneously had his picture taken by newspaper reporters.

"The suspect, Ivan Bradshell, _was_ found dead in his cell at 6:47 this morning by a guard from the Raccoon City jail. He apparently used one of his bed sheets to hang himself from the bars of his cell, where he was housed alone. The suspect also left a note that he wrote down using the jail stationary, where he states he felt remorse over the death of officer Carnovaley and did not wish to go through with the trial that was scheduled in the near future. His death has already been investigated and ruled a suicide. I will answer any questions you may have".

"Can we see the letter itself?", one journalist asked, having beaten all his colleagues by speaking out louder.

"I _do_ have the letter in question in my possession", Houssan replied, retrieving the hand-written note from inside a folder, "The public defender's office informed us that they do not object to making it available to the press".

"Can we hear its contents verbatim?", a second reporter inquired.

"Sure", Houssan sighed, "It's a signed sheet of paper and reads `I'm so sorry for the lives lost so far. I didn't mean to kill any of them. Just my temper always victimized me throughout my life, just as it did the five lives I've taken. I no longer wish to go through with this act, not that I thought I could at trial anyway. No point in wasting that time and prolonging a life that I hate. I hope that this will prove to Raccoon City and its inhabitants that I'm sorry for everything and I ask for your forgiveness'. That's it".

"How does your office plan to handle the situation now?", a third newsman asked.

"The DA's office was ready to take this case to trial. Obviously, we no longer need to subpoena officer Wesker to testify that officer Carnovaley was shot while he and the suspect struggled for the suspect's weapon, though we will still have our ballistics expert affirm that the bullet which killed the officer came from the suspect's gun".

The scene suddenly switched back to reporter Emily Corrie-Smith as she remained seated and staring at the camera inside the Action News studio.

"As we said, ladies and gentlemen, a dramatic change of events in the Ivan Bradshell case. If you're just joining us, Ivan Bradshell, reputed cop killer, who was scheduled to go to trial in a few days, has been found dead in his cell this morning. Officials confirm that he took his own life after admitting to all the allegations that the DA's office was confident it could prove in court. On to other top story we're following for you for tonight...".

Officer Frost manually shut the small TV set off as he had been on a break in the Raccoon Police Department's lunchroom. He looked back at Wesker and the few officers who had gathered in at the mention of Bradshell's name and he flashed a grin at them before giving the thumbs-up with his left hand.

"Now _that's_ what I call justice, huh, guys? We don't even have to feed him any more", the young man chuckled.

----------------------------------------

Miles away, in another part of the city, Claymont pressed a button on the remote control and shut his own TV set off. He set the remote down on a table in his home and picked up the phone.

"RPD? Captain Wesker, please", he smiled.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The storm had passed, all that remained was the damage left in its wake. The mammoth giants, which once stood proud in Arkney Woods, were now nothing more than kindling. Ravished by the ferocity of the storm, they were rendered no more than a mere shadow of their former selves. The terrain which had once been their home now served as their tomb.

It was from this grave that a delicate white hand shot out, frantically grasping at the thick mud that had already begun to solidify as the surrounding area was being disturbed by the sudden movement. All the weight atop her body was crushing her, as it would anyone in that situation since the human body just isn't built to take the weight of giant oak on its shoulders. The weight that was pressuring her body was even being thought of as a greater threat than the fear of drowning in the mud, even though the latter danger was worse than the former one. 

But that fear eventually allowed the strength of a second hand to break the surface. The taste of soil packed in the individual's nostrils and ears, causing the girl's body to buck from the reflex of trying to get it out of her beaten body, which was so desperately trying to break the surface.

A mud-caked head arose from the depths at last, the view similar to that of a child being born, desperate to leave the safety of the womb with no idea what awaited it outside. The squirming and wriggling of the body only added to the illusion. The sweat from the girl's brow mingled with the burnt sienna mud, causing a rapid blinking to avoid the stinging which would surely follow. The mouth opened wide, spewing forth salvia-drenched mud, and fits of coughing following. Blood mingled with sludge. Each wrack of her chest causing more dirt to come forth until finally she was swallowing the sweet air, gasping and panting for what could have been hours. After what seemed to be a very long time, the rate of breathing slowed down enough to resume the frantic grasping at the mud, the pulling forward causing friction burns across an already damaged torso. The frantically grasping hands hindered by the soft ground, which had the effect of quicksand, trying to drag her body back down to what would surely become the lady's grave. With a sudden newfound energy given from being able to breath once more, it allowed the rest of her sinewy body to be pulled from the ground. Leaving her lying sprawled face down in the mud, unable to move for shock at being above ground. The young girl's nerves were worn down until it felt like the body just could not be moved. It was only after many hours or perhaps even days passed that the body was finally able to move and its owner could survey the damage it had taken. Her heart was racing from the afflictions to both body and soul, though for how long, she did not know. 

The tattered clothes were tattooed to her body, barely covering the essentials and making her look ragged as though she was a street urchin from the 18th century. The white hand with the long nails gingerly touched over an athletic body to check for any serious damage. There were traces of blood on the worn fingers of the young girl, causing a sigh of pain. The attempt to try to get some of the muck from the various orifices where it had became logged caused much vexation. Tearing a piece of cloth from her tattered outfit and using it to wipe some of the mud which was encrusted all over her body and face. It was then that the large green eyes turned around to survey their surroundings. Wide in the realization that something was not right.

----------------------------------------

I…. am…I…am…? The new ability to think causing a minor buzzing to ricochet underneath the fiery haired. 

"Sh…Sh…SSHHII…shit", the smooth but dirty face contorted in pain, "Whhhat, what's…what…is?…what… is… go…where…I".

The pain was too much, driving the form down onto her knees, making her screaming out in pain, clasping at hair as though it would somehow make the drilling beneath it disappear. The girl began to tremble as though she was cold despite the warm summer air. Convulsions took over as the child began to lose control and loud shriek escaped the cracked lips as they gave the air bloody kisses. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Did you hear that?".

"Hear what?".

"It sounded, like I heard… like I heard a scream… No don't you roll your eyes at me! You always do that!".

A loud sigh followed. 

"Do what?".

"You ALWAYS patronize …".

"Sssshhh".

"WHAT?!".

"Listen… I think I heard something too".

"I KNEW it! I knew there was something! I told you so!".

"…BOOOOOOOOOOO. It's the spiders and the monsters!!".

"Oh ha ha. You know Catherine, I always knew that I should have married your sister".

"You … did you just say what I think you did?!".

"You must be hearing things" .

"Yeah well George, must be my hearing going because _I'm_ the one who actually works and makes a living since there is no _man_ in the house".

"_That's_ below the belt".

"No telling you there's another reason why you ain't a man, which _is_ below the belt if you know what I mean".

"You're really a bitch…you hear that?".

"Yeah…I thought it was just…you know… your paranoia or something…but for a minute… it _did_ sound like there was something over there".

"You want to go wait and I'll check it out?".

"So you can make up some obscene story to tell your drinking buddies? No. Besides, sounds like a kid or something. Probably lost up here. Although what kind of parent would allow a child up here alone is beyond me".

"See, there it is again! You don't think… perhaps that, well you know that maybe, that well it's one of those well things that people keep saying that they see?".

"Oh, for heavens sake, George. Are we going to see what this is or not?".

"I guess we are. Just hope it's not a wolf cub with its mother close by or something".

"Sometimes _I_ wish that you had married my sister." 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Your madness is beginning to infect me! There's nothing here!".

"Yeah maybe we should turn…WAIT! LOOK!", George had spotted a lone human figure kneeling on the ground, head hung and shaking.

The couple quickly walked over to where the crouching figure was. Surprised at what they had found and that a person could have been making the noises that had them so spooked out.

"Miss? Miss? Are you ok, miss?", the squabbling couple's dispute temporarily put on the back burner at the sight of the child. 

The lady stepped forward to touch the girl, but was restrained by her husband's meaty hand. 

"Not so close. She doesn't look…right". 

It was at this comment that the girl's mud-caked head lifted at a snail's pace.

"I… it …hurts…hurts...so…", the girl's voice cut off as a mixture of blood and earth spewed forth from her mouth, erupting back down and falling on the mud, leaving the sound of a mewing kitten in its place. 

"Go call an ambulance!".

"With what?! We're in the middle of the woods, you fucking moron!!".

"My cell, you stupid woman!", the exasperation that was welding up clearly evident in the tone he used, "It's in the car. Have them send someone out here a.s.a.p., this ain't right". 

George watched his wife run towards the general direction that they had come from. It was the sight of Catherine's shapely legs pumping as she ran that reminded George of what caused such a terrible marriage in the first place. As huge a mistake as that had turned out to be, he supposed that was to be ignored for now as something really was bothering the aging man about the young woman in front of him. 

"It's OK, sweetie", thinking that perhaps if more gentle tons were used, then the clearly messed up child would be more inclined to listen to what was being said.

"Can you tell me your name? Or what's wrong?".

The small head shook in reply. George wondered what the hell had happened to her as he was taking a good, long look at the girl. It was not right for one so young to be left here alone. Where on earth were her parents? What kind of guardians were they to leave a child alone here? Especially after all that strange stuff which was supposed to be going on in these woods. Or what if they had been killed? The child was such a mess; it was easily imaginable that the girl had been the victim of an attack. The clothes, which nearly did not cover much of her, were a completely wreck by the blood and dirt marks. The source of the blood was open welts, visible in the stark contrast they provided to the mud-covered skin. It seemed unlikely that the poor creature sitting on the ground could be older than in her early teens. It upset George when noises came from the kneeling figure that suggested sobbing since he felt the need to comfort the girl, to at least try to do something. God only knows what horror the little one had to witness. 

"Now it's OK, don't panic, am going to just, want to wipe some of the muck away from your face, OK? Just going to move slowly and will make you feel a little better OK?".

The girl did not move, George assumed her wide eyes were showing how scared she must be as stubby fingers nearly came into contact with the dirty face. She snarled at a shocked George, nearly biting the hand that had came too close to her face away. Finally, the child had lifted herself from the ground, taking the stance of a predator, head slightly lowered and, despite it, the shoulders looked like that of a body builder. The man was scared as it wasn't until this moment that it showed the girl's physique and, all of a sudden, she didn't seem so little or so helpless any more. 

It was the eyes more than anything, looking like gigantic emeralds that glowed as though fire was shone behind them after the humanity had drained out of them and was now long gone. The head that encased those voids tilted slightly to the side and the feet moved with the grace of a large cat, stalking towards the rescuer turned prey. The horror that George feared was that something terrible was about to become of his abused body, that suddenly he had so many regrets. Too afraid to turn around, George clumsily tripped, sprawling down on his well-padded buttocks. 

For once, the mess of the expensive trousers that were too small was the least of the things to be worrying about. It was from this position that it occurred to him that the fight was already lost as the girl was ready to pounce. Flying through the air, she pounced on the older man and sent down a clawed hand to slash at his jugular vein, which was protruding greatly, almost like it yearned to be sliced. The terrified and chubby man put up a hand in a vain hope of defending off the attack that was about to end the waste of time that he thought had been his life. Then he felt her hand touch him, a scream already gone from the quivering lips as their owner knew they were about to be cut off from the world. 

Touching warm flesh, and being touched by a living, breathing person caused an intense flash in the mind of the mysterious girl. It was then that, for a fleeting second, she grasped who the name had been. The young lady remembered who she had been. It was this same sensation that was enough to momentarily stop the beating of the child's heart, added by the pain caused due to what she had nearly done by her own hand. The last remaining shade of color dissipated from her face and left it looking a ghastly translucent glow. A yell, which could have easily been mistaken for the war cry of a Cerberus hellhound, filled the air as the youngster was upright in the blink of an eye. She darted away with the speed of a panther, or at least the speed that George assumed a panther would possess, as he barely had the time to blink as she ran off. The pressure on his throat was gone as quickly as it had arrived, as well as the fear that had been so tight and intense that it had caused his inability to move. He couldn't help but wonder if it was Alzheimer's that was affecting the train of his thoughts and, as a result, causing all this. And if it wasn't Alzheimer's, then what the hell just happened? 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Raccoon City Police department was abuzz and teaming with life. The officers inside had just received a call from a panicked woman screaming that there was a little girl and the parents were dead and it was only a minute ago and everything was fine and how the woman had only been there a few minutes but had heard her husband scream and then the child also. 

The dispatcher couldn't make any sense of her ramblings either.

They had expected to seriously struggle to convince the frantic woman that perhaps the best idea was not to go back, but once they had mentioned the potential danger to the women's own person, the distressed wife quickly agreed to stay put. It had been so long since they had any kind of excitement that it had gone from beyond being comfortable to leaving everyone with nothing but paperwork to do. The summer time had been completely uneventful, the few criminals who had been brought in seemed more terrified of the police than anything and some broke down and screamed or cried like they were being led to the electric chair rather than simply to a cell. Even the informants were scarce, either leaving town or just mysteriously disappearing. Many had suggested some kind of covert operation to see if a new crime ring had been formed while others were merely pondering what it was that had everyone so petrified. But either way, this was not why so many of the RPD's members had joined the police force, so word that something might be up in the Arkney Forrest had spread like wildfire.

With so little for everyone to do due to this strange state, people were running around like the station itself was under siege. One car already out on patrol had been sent there, top speed. The two officers were heading to offer assistance to the traumatized woman while a back-up unit geared up and was ready to move in, but could not leave the outskirts of the city quickly enough. They had strict orders to not leave the wife of one of the potential victims until the rest of the men had arrived. Being as to how they weren't even sure what was going on. 

----------------------------------------

At the police precinct, the conference room was packed to the brim with boisterous high spirits. Almost everyone wanted the same thing, thus competition was high since people looked for any excuse to fail the others in the eyes of their leader. The walls around them were covered in various notes from previous caseloads as well as supposedly morale building designs. The tiled floor echoed all the hurried steps as the large group gathered and then clambered to get seats closer to the raised platform that was set up there in the vain hope that they'd be more likely to be given this assignment if they were near the speaker. It was almost like these were children trying to get the attention of a basketball star or a pop idol.

----------------------------------------

Captain Bradley commanded the attention of the men without so much as a word. As he entered the room and headed towards the slightly raised platform, his dark eyes combed over the gathered police officers like that of a wise old mountain lion. Most of the animal's teeth may have gone, but that did not mean that it was smart to be in front of the beast, and the same could be said of the captain. His form was well below that of the average new recruit, but unlike some, he had not given up his rigorous physical exercises. Thus he was still not an individual that anyone wanted to get into a brawl with, even if his high rank hadn't already made anyone in a uniform think twice or three times before annoying him. Walking to the far end of the room, a deep silence followed the man who was either feared, respected or the source of suspicious, but beyond all doubt a good leader. Not one man or woman who had worked along side the captain, or who was even located anywhere in the building, could dispute his place in charge. So letting the suspense build among his fellow officers, captain Bradley finally spoke.

"Everyone who is up to date is getting sent out. No arguments here, boys. We do not have the time". 

The room was silent. No one was breathing, instead waiting to see who would be able to leave the station, for a while at least.

"So I want Chassell to lead, Whey, Brenner, Rook, Merton…". 

He stopped and paused for the briefest of seconds.

"Rookie?", Stephen Chino looked up since he was already in acceptance of the name given to the newest member of the force. He also had the misfortune of being the youngest officer in the room. "You are up too". 

Stephen's jaw dropped in a mixture of surprise and horror.

"Damn", the rookie cursed quietly enough not to be heard as the captain began to speak once again.

"You six. Kit up code green and want you out of here in no more than 3 minutes. Dismissed".

There were several murmurs of discontentment throughout the ranks, especially at the latest addition. Before the older man departed, well aware of the comments which would be spoken the minute that everyone believed he could no longer hear what was being said, there was a calm but stern warning issued.

"AND let that be a lesson to the rest of you. Don't think because things are quiet that you can fall behind. I want everyone to keep on top of what is going on here. You don't have the kind of job which allows you to be asleep. You want that, then go to the courts". 

With that, the leader was gone, more quickly than it should be able for someone of that age. 

Yeah boys, the captain thought silently, it's because of paper work, _honest_. 

Alexander Bradley wondered if anyone had actually bought that. Situations like these required more than the average response, anyone who knew the real situation knew that. Irons himself had warned the captain about Arkney woods and Bradley was smart enough a man to know when to keep his own nose clean. And this was just such a time. Anything could be loose there, but those sent were either prepared Umbrella guys or highly expendable regular officers. Either way, it made no difference since the paycheck Bradley would receive was the same. So what else mattered? 

The captain felt far too old for this. The younger version of himself would have been disgusted. The younger version, however, did not have children to put through college or bills to pay. Bradley wished that he could be that leader once more. Well, it would not be long before he would be able to retire. Let someone younger deal with this mess.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tired and gasping for breath, the wide-eyed youngster stopped running. Her calf muscles were aching and throbbing from what they just endured. The pain from being trapped under ground for so long had been bad enough, but after the sudden jolting of movement, it was now nearly intolerable, with it being 'nearly' so only because she knew of no other choice except to take the pain and stay alive. Funny how nearly being buried alive and then experiencing a psychotic episode can put such a damper on the day, the girl noted while turning her head slightly to the side and attempting to make one pale hand go through the matted hair. The hair itself was knotted and molded together by the drying sludge from below the ground. 

Unaware of where this place was, and unable to go back to wherever she may feel safer, the girl contemplated what the next step should be. On one hand, it might not be wise to go back in case the kind couple that the child had attacked were angry, and it was highly possible that they were. But at least they came from the direction of civilization. Oh, what the hell did it matter, she asked herself, the thoughts in her head turning more macabre. 

No wait. Come on here, need to do something, can't just sit here. But if I go back, then they'll do something bad, but if I stay here… The teenager momentarily laughed, though she wasn't sure why, thus forgetting the dire situation she was in. OK, she reasoned, at least if nothing else, she realized that sitting in the woods alone was not going to solve anything. If only she knew who she was, or why she was here… The teenager had nearly finished the last thought when a sharp pain ripped across her temple once again. It had her on the ground, gasping for air and blindly clasping at the source of the pain, though she should've known it'd be impossible to pull it out of her head. It died down after a few minutes, but felt more like was an unfathomably high number of hours. 

OK, so _that's_ a no go then, wonderful, she thought to herself. The child was not best pleased at the current position that had somehow managed to become her life. Every time that the mind below the bright muck-drenched hair began to work, she felt that there was some kind of adverse reaction. She could never remember anything that painful before, she recalled, not that she can remember anything at all, of course. She felt another jolt of fear, thinking that her situation was hopeless.

Who knew what had happened? No one was there, and she felt so terribly alone. Small crystalline tears formed at the corners of saucer-shaped eyes, looking like little emeralds as they reflected the color of those same eyes. The tears left clear trails down her face as they cleaned the mess and dropped down onto mauled clothes. For the third time that day, the girl sank down to the ground, this time not because of a physical pain but because of how scary everything suddenly seemed. 

The trees all had jagged teeth and were looking at her as though she was lunch. The teenager thus covered her tear-stained face with bruised hands to keep the trees from laughing at the fact that she appeared to have such a small form and was so petrified. The tears had as much to do with the ugly faces of the trees staring as they did to concealing her own face so that it could not been seen. The shoulders convulsed back and forth with each drop of water falling. Her small scarlet heart-shaped lips opened, the heart broken into two as the white teeth were made visible and the breath coming from them gathered momentum. Cheeks flushed pink from the force of the sobs, aware that dehydration had already set in, so she forced the tears to stop, choking them back until they ceased. 

DANGER!!!!!

Something was causing the hairs on the grubby arms to stand on end. A more rational fear gripped and made a knot in the pit of the lean stomach. It was then that the teenager noticed them, clad in black and blue, not really blending in with the browns and greens of the area surrounding them, especially in the daylight. They were all around and closing in, so that there was no place she could run. Because of the sound of her sobs, they had known where to come. Now they were nearing her position and a deep panic caused the hyperventilation to return. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Officers Chassell, Whey, Brenner, Rook, Merton and Chino met up with the two other enforcers of the law at the very base of the forest. The rendezvous point was about a mile away from the nearest house, that being the home of Mr. and Mrs. Welsh and their young son Rory. The sun was currently obscured from view, hidden behind large, fluffy gray shapes, and everyone was seeing something different when they looked up at those clouds. Chassell, Merton, Irving and Rook saw people being devoured by monsters. On the other hand, Chino, Donnelly and Whey were convinced they could see some kind of food, ranging from a giant pasta bowl to a gourmet burger. Officer Jenkins being the most unusual insisting that the billows resembled cars and trucks.

Of course, interpreting the shapes of clouds wasn't anything important as far as the job went. It was just messing around on the officers' part to break the tension, make them relax and finally to convince themselves that they could still waste time if they so chose. But still, Chassell was quick to bring his men to attention, annoyed that most of the men were much younger than him, even if that meant he could order them around with more ease. While he was a logical man, he also had to admit that Arkney Woods was no less of a mystery to him to every other confused individual around. So the commander hoped that the officers who were not in on what was truly going on would keep their heads, figuratively for the mission at hand and literally for their own sakes. Thus, he chose the time to speak, not having to raise his voice before he got everyone else's attention.

"It's like this, firstly we go check the terrain where the couple and the youth are, then split into two groups. One to take whoever we find back to safety and the other to scout the surround area for the assailant, whether it be man or beast, as well as search for the missing parties. Under NO uncertain circumstances are any of you to a) leave your group formation or b) attack any potential suspect without my explicit orders. Spirits are high and I'm sure you're all excited, but that's the easiest time to be careless and get someone killed, so it's important you follow my lead. I hope I make myself clear. You know where we are and _who_ we are, I'm sure I don't need to remind you to keep your eyes open". Always the good leader, he made eye contact with all his men in turn. Everyone nodded, except Irving and Merton who rolled their eyes and began to look around the surrounding area, noting how much Chassell sounded like Bradley. 

----------------------------------------

After 5 to 10 minutes of walking around, Denis Merton and Eric Donnelly came across the car of the couple that had made the call, which was identified because it was the tan Mercedes they were informed of by the female caller. Damn tourists bringing stuff like this to the woods and then getting lost or hurt, Eric thought angrily. The wife, though, appeared to be neither as she was sitting on the hood of the vehicle, filing long tart red talons and looking somewhat bored. One of her most noticeable features from the officers' point of view was the short ebony hair bobbed and cropped close to the skin that was the color of oiled cedar. Wide lips were in a permanent pout as tight trousers showed off her curves well and the light on the high cheekbones only added to the attractive, faintly Egyptian features. That would be the one, Merton noted to himself, shouting to signal his workmates and startling the woman at the same time. Her demeanor changed so quickly it was almost as though the nail filing had never occurred.

"OHHHHHHHH!", the women wailed, running to the closest officer, "George! Oh the love of my life! I've been so worried! Thank god you are here! Thank god! You must save my love! He and that child are all alone with lord knows what!!".

"Where did you last see your husband, miss?", Chassell questioned in a calmer tone.

"Oh it was so horrible", the woman continued as if there had been no interruption. 

She then managed to throw herself into the arms of the gray-haired gentleman who was currently leading the men.

"Lady, spit it out", Donnelly countered with more agitation. 

George appeared at this exact moment, breaking the tense moment and creating another. He looked filthy, as though the grown man had taken to rolling down muddy hills. The wrinkles as well as the thinning hair and beer belly gave clues to his age as he approached the officers as well as his wife.

"So typical. Finding you like this", was the first thing he uttered.

The man appeared to be physically exhausted, but at least unharmed, albeit rather messy. 

"GEORGE!!!!! MY LOVE! I AM SO GLAD YOU ARE ALL RIGHT! I WAS SO WORRIED AND SCARED!!!".

"Yeah, yeah", the older man replied, shooing his wife away like an annoying insect. 

His lack of compassion only lasted until her perfectly made up face began to crumple.

"I was so _scared_ here, all _alone_, where anything could have happened and you don't even care!!!", her words deteriorated into sobs. 

"Oh petal. So sorry. Don't cry. Please".

"Sir, ma'am, we appreciate this was a harrowing experience for you both, but for us to react to it, you have to first…", was as far as Chassell got.

"For fuck sake, will you just tell us what the hell happened?", Eric Donnelly blurted out, interrupting him, still fired up because of the potential danger that awaited the whole team.

Chassell issued a nonverbal reprimand that shot razor-sharp daggers at the subordinate officer and Donnelly was well aware that the actual scolding would come later. He would most likely care later on, but he just didn't do so right now. 

Catherine and George Rune together finally tried to explain what happened before the officers' arrival. The wife often took charge while her older husband tended to babble, and whenever that occurred, the attractive woman would take over, sighing in exasperation and finally telling George to shut up so that the policemen could know what had happened. She only became silent while reviewing the events that led to where she and George had parted ways.

"Don't know what happened. Got close. Girl's a mess. Something not right. Then… well she flipped out. Just went nuts. Took off", shaking the sparsely covered head while it hung slightly lower than usual as George recounted, "Such a mess".

"Sir, madam, if you are able, it would be for the best if you were to go directly to the Raccoon City police department to have your statements taken and they can keep you in for the minimum time possible. They will also ensure medical attention for you sir. Just to be on the safe side", Chassell once again took over.

"But what about that poor child? That little one all alone… So defenseless out there…", the wife started to reply.

"Not so defenseless", George went on, looking much older than he originally did, "Be careful. Something's not right. Crazed".

"Come on George, we have an engagement I don't want to miss tonight. Sooner we do this, the better. Oh this has been so stressful!! I mean how on earth can we begin to imagine what happened here. Oh lord this is terrible!!".

"For fuck sake", Donnelly cursed under his breath quietly enough only to be heard by the two officers closest to him. 

Catharine Rune professed how difficult the entire ordeal had been for another fifteen minutes, throughout the whole time having George direct them to where the commotion with the mysterious female had occurred. It was after that fifteen minutes that the law enforcement agents finally watched their car drive off, and some of them were more glad than others as they saw the car vanishing off in the distance.

"Glad I'm not married to her. That is one annoying broad".

"One day _officer_ Donnelly, that mouth of yours will be the end of you", Chassell scolded before returning his attention to the team around him, "OK, so for all we know, this kid could be the perpetrator. We want her in custody, for her own safety as well as everyone else's by nightfall, men. This should not be something below any of you, it is as far as we are aware just one person. And be prepared to come across a body or two if that kid has truly lost her family".

----------------------------------------

The group of men had split into two factions, the latter following the former and providing it the needed back-up. It was Chino who first spotted something. Gesturing for Chassell to take a look, he made sure all eight men were watching the direction that he pointed towards. At the same instant that Chino began to stare at the lithe form of what could only be the girl they were looking for, his team was spotted by her also, raking huge button eyes over every one of them. Before Chassell's mouth had opened to offer assurance, the teenaged stranger was off, bolting down the forest ground at an unnatural speed, faster than it should've been possible for anyone to run on an uneven, mostly solid surface. That led the men who were witnessing the event to believe that something sinister must be afoot, so the hunt had began. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Good evening, sir", came the attentive salute from the security guard on duty as that one stood next to his assigned door with both hands relaxed behind his back.

"Shut up", was the terse reply given by the scientist who entered through the automatic door without having to wait as it quickly opened by itself to let him and the other fellow lab technician who followed him in.

"We need to work on damage control here and I mean fast", the first scientist instructed his younger disciple as the latter rushed a few steps to catch up with the older man's walking pace.

"Of course, after the MediVac team gets back here with the survivors and the conditions of the men are...", the brown-haired straggler uttered as he quickly looked over a series of papers that had been faxed to him recently.

"Fuck the survivors and whoever is being wasted to try to save them, I'm talking about how this disaster is going to change our big brother's viewpoint of us", the first man interrupted as they both made their way down the sterile hallway. He instinctively checked his blonde hair with his left hand and adjusted the sunglasses on his face with his right as they neared their destination. The process for both took about one second, which was short enough to be easily missed by anyone who witnessed it. Only the scientist was aware that he did it, mainly because it was a habit before meeting with someone new after any amount of absence. A second gray-colored metallic door shifted into the wall to allow them entry to a medium-sized room where a handful of other scientists in white were awaiting them.

"Gentlemen", Wesker dryly announced as the door closed behind him and his associate, leaving the artificial neon bulbs in the ceiling as the sole source of light in the windowless room.

"How could this have _happened_?!", William Birkin asked out loud to no one in particular as he stood on one end of the small crowd. His appearance was more disheveled, with a white lab coat hanging loosely over a shirt and tie that looked like they had been on him constantly over the last three days or so, with unkempt hair and bloodshot eyes that revealed his lack of sleep.

"How much Beta Hetero Non Serotonin was lost?", was the second question out of Birkin's mouth even before anyone had the chance to answer his first, "How are we supposed to get ahead with so many goddamn setbacks on a regular basis?!". 

He finally calmed down enough to let someone else be heard. Seeing that no one was volunteering an answer, the younger man behind Wesker cleared his throat and spoke up.

"It seems there was a mistake in the communications between the train conductor and the safety operator from...", he started giving details of the situation that was on everyone's mind.

"No one cares, Solvino", Wesker harshly cut off his words by partly turning his head to the right before returning his gaze to the crowd of colleagues in front of him, "I told you that damage control is _all_ that matters now".

"But finding out _how_ this happened is surely relevant so as to make sure it doesn't happen again", Solvino's voice shook just a bit, only enough to be noticed by the older man who stood within an arm's reach in front of him.

"You really should listen to your elders, boy", Wesker sighed without bothering to look back at him this time, "This accident won't happen again because every idiot who was involved in the transport of the chemicals and who did not die on the spot will be relieved of duty and be found some `other' way to serve the corporation. Being a human guinea pig should make better uses of those brainless subjects, and whoever takes their place will definitely be influenced by the general deterrence and not be as inefficient in the future".

Solvino never knew Wesker to be the kind of person who exaggerated or made a statement he did not mean, which is what made the older man's previous words all the more disturbing. There was a certain chill in the shaded scientist's voice to ensure everyone in the room that he intended to do exactly as he spoke.

"L... Look, our work is one thing, but we shouldn't...", Solvino went against his own instinct and continued talking as the door behind them opened again, even though his nerves were shaken at seeing the older scientist's jaw tighten up in anger. He could've sworn that he didn't see Wesker moving, but while the older man had been standing in front of him one moment, Solvino felt his back against the wall as Wesker was presently pressing his left hand around the young man's throat. The force was enough to cut off his breathing and stop his ability to speak, but it also was not using all the strength that was available in Wesker's arm, whereas his tormentor threatened to crush his adam's apple at the hint of any more annoyance.

"Do you _ever_ stop talking Solvino?!", Wesker coldly commanded into his victim's face, his teeth grinding together at every syllable, "It's bad enough that total _moron_ had screwed up my plans to acquire another human host for my experiments! I go to sleep for the smallest amount of time and wake up to see EVERYTHING undone, and now YOU have a problem with me acquiring those other imbeciles after the stress they caused me?!".

"Easy, youngster, easy", Wesker's head turned to the side as he heard Claymont admonishing him like a parent would speak to a child. 

Solvino's face was the only one that did not acknowledge the older executive's presence due to the crushing lock that still jeopardized his life. Claymont was shaking his head back and forth as the automatic door closed behind him. He was the only person in the room to still be wearing a suit, as opposed to the lab coats that covered everyone else's shoulders.

"Please let him go, Albert. You really shouldn't be killing a member of the staff", he gave a friendly chuckle, "At least not until you're sure you can do his job on top of yours".

The aggressive scientist's facial expression did not indicate any change in his amount of inner rage, but he complied with his superior's orders by looking back into Solvino's eyes and then releasing his hold on the young man's neck. That one gasped air into his lungs as he partly hunched over and gently gripped his own neck, relieving it from the sudden pain it had been in.

"Why blame your colleagues for it anyway?", the well-dressed executive went on, "_You're_ the one who took that man's life and made it impossible for him to be used here as intended".

Wesker's partly-lowered face slowly turned back to lock eyes with his older supervisor.

"Don't you think I am aware of that!", the scientist hissed.

"Besides, Albert", Claymont continued, still without showing a hint of anxiety in his voice, "You stress too much. I already told you that you'd be compensated for the human host you lost, and I _do_ keep my word. You'll be receiving a new person for your research within the hour".

"They'll be able to get that so promptly? I'll be sure to send their family a thank you card", Wesker replied, working hard to control his behavior to the point where his face kept appearing calm.

"But we _do_ have this spill to deal with. It's already a potential public relations nightmare if the good citizenry of Raccoon start worrying about the negative effects of their city's relationship with Umbrella", the senior administrator continued while everyone returned to the discussion at hand, having totally forgotten the assault that took place a few seconds ago as Solvino began standing up straight, "Suggestions on how to deal with this mess, anyone? And I mean with the mess at hand, not ideas on how to 

punish those who were responsible for it".

Wesker placed both hands within the outer pockets of his lab coat as he turned around and eyed someone within the group of scientists.

"William, which establishment was it who tried to enlist your services last spring?", he asked out loud for everyone in the room to hear.

"You mean St. James Pharmaceuticals? What about them?", Birkin answered the question with a question of his own.

"They _did_ try to get you to work for them, did they not?", the scientist smirked from behind his sunglasses, "Offered a pay raise and guaranteed you'd be the head of whichever of their facilities that you chose?".

"They didn't have half of the resources that we do here", Birkin recalled, brushing his right hand into the air as an indication that he hadn't thought of the company that Wesker mentioned for a long time, "And what does St. James have to do with...".

"I personally don't like how another organization had attempted to usurp part of our talent", Wesker casually twisted his head back to look at Claymont, "That they had the spine to try means they have the potential to be a threat to us one day. So what would you say if I could come up with a way to kill two birds with one stone?".

A smile crept over Wesker's lips.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The teenager had run for over a mile and was very tired and quivering with exhaustion when she saw that an immense conclave of granite was just a few meters away, spanning as far as she could see. Even though she was panting, it didn't take her long to notice that there was no way around the obstacle. It was then that the youngster became conscious that there was no other option but to turn around and face those who sought to do harm, realizing that running could no longer shake these people. She tried hard to ease her racing heart, knowing that the last of them were no more than thirty meters away, and also aware that her chances of winning were null if she was tired when the confrontation began.

"Wha…what are you…who are you?", were the words that were finally uttered by the confused lone figure who was dressed in dark clothes and was also the first of the group to reach her.

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP!", the barrage of other males yelled simultaneously, withdrawing handguns and exerting their authority with the pride of a peacock even as they themselves were catching their breath.

Her eyes were wide with fear as she slowly forced her pale arms so they were raised above her waistline and could not be used to attack anyone. But despite the fear, there was also something else glittering in the girl's eyes, perhaps annoyance, or even anger. Whichever officers at the scene thought they noticed it either thought they were seeing things or just didn't bother mentioning it to their colleagues due to the tension in the air. But regardless, a fire that had begun to burn behind her eyes began to reflect externally on her face, as if it was subconsciously reflecting how the girl felt. 

"Hold still, darlin'. This won't take a minute", Wesley Irving leered, lowering the gun that was an extension of the hairy arm and hand that held it. 

The smaller suspect shook her already painful head, holding the hands out to prevent the young officer from coming any further. She noticed that Irving's uniform was overly neat, leading her to believe that there was some kind of military background in this one, and his blond crew cut appeared to confirm this theory. The clasping fingers of the army man came close, his hands outstretched, and it was only then that the officer touched the girl. Before anyone realized it, the teenager had brought down a lighting fast snake fist strike to the nose. A crimson rose flowered from Irving's nostrils as fluid exploded out of his nose like a firecracker.

"Uhhh mn nse y btch! Sh brk mn fckng nse!". 

The youngster moved back slightly, letting all the weight drop to the back leg and pivoting down low as she sank a hard elbow into the groin of the bleeding officer. She then stood back upright, aware that there were more who may now try the same tactic against her. The eyes going wider; as opposed to looking just angry, the female suspect looked even more scared as her lightly colored eyebrows creased. And in a lack of professionalism that was not entirely uncommon to the RCP, Merton taunted Irving.

"Aww, you can't handle a little child?! Let me show you how it is done. It's OK guys, you can lower your guns, some of us are _real_ men!", Chassell and Donnelly agreeing for once and rolling their eyes together. 

What was the harm, they asked themselves. The kid had merely gotten lucky.

"P… Please…I don't want to do this", the girl implored the surrounding men, taking one step backwards as though it had been her who'd just received a broken nose as opposed to having given one. 

"I…I…you…shouldn't…I…please!", she pleaded once again. 

Not knowing how, she discerned that the situation had to stop before it went any further for both parties' sakes, but especially hers. This violence would not be required, especially since she was willing to leave the woods if the men just asked her to and left her alone to do so. Although right now, it seemed somewhat useless as it was easy to see that they were not interested in any kind of compromise. The swagger of the guy who the teenager estimated to be in his 30's really struck something within the girl's mind. He was definitely arrogant, and this was confirmed when Merton began to shoot that infamous mouth off.

"It's a shame, it really is, some officers rely on their guns, forget how I used to do things. Turns them into _that_", Merton spat at the floored Irving before returning her attention to the suspect, "Will teach you what happens when you do that to one of the R.P.D.! Even if it's one of _those_ members".

"Not because that is just an excuse to be violent", the girl retorted in a small tone, though probably only loud enough for her to hear the words. 

"Hey _we're_ the good guys! So fuck you!", Merton exclaimed.

This young woman was in her first display of anything except fear, so she raised one eyebrow. The words 'yeah right' was the thought that sprung to her mind, but she kept her mouth closed for the mere reason that she knew she had to concentrate on the confrontation at hand. That simple gesture of being quiet and readying for an assault was enough to goad Merton to react. The annoying suspect was close and this time, a roundhouse kick was attempted by the officer instead of a punch. It was a beast of a kick that might've easily broken through bone, if it had connected. But despite the attacker's otherwise impressive speed, the girl still had time to step to the side, duck down and thump a fist into the exposed groin. The shock factor allowed her the time to get her fingers into the pressure points at either side of his temples, the stress building up on Merton's face as though he was suddenly trapped deep under the sea. After only a few seconds, the older man collapsed on the ground, not a trace of blood on him, but was also immobile and unconscious.

"Sir? _What_ on earth is going on? We're getting mauled here! We should, there's surely another answer", Whey inquired, although his question was never answered by supervisor Chassell as Jenkins was next up. 

Desperate to succeed where Merton had failed, to apprehend the suspect and also to get one up over the arrogant man who was five years his senior, the third officer converged. It would give Jenkins desperately need locker room credit after the fiasco a few months back where he had cornered a fugitive and Merton had received credit for the arrest. Jenkins' knuckles went white with the force of the clenching done, so he was already obsessed about the altercation that he was rushing into. The first punch was thrown as Jenkins had no intention of letting the suspect pull the same tactic for the third time. The club-like knuckles were thrown with force, but were also highly careless. The young female already knew what to do before the fist was remotely close enough to do any damage. The U-shape between the child's index finger and thumb clamped around Michael Jenkins' powerful wrist, holding the arm firm and twisting it slightly to control Jenkins' movement. Changing stance, the girl laid two long white fingers straight and knife-stuck the delicate space in the man's armpit, without letting go of the confined wrist. She forced the pain in his arm to spread by not allowing the targeted victim to curl into a comfortable position to alleviate the pain. The result was that Jenkins seemed to fall asleep on the dirt below him.

Seeing this, officer Rook thought that perhaps waiting would not be such a good plan, so he rested his gun into its holster and became the fourth officer to rush forward to assist. He advanced in true cannon fodder style, with little or no plan in mind and wanting to do something about the person who was causing the whole unit such vexation. Without turning to even glance at the black-clad man running towards her, the teenager kept the grip on Brenner, and in a surprising show of flexibility considering her recent physical stress, kicked a heel behind so that the female body was shaped like a T as the upper torso moved closer to the ground. One leg held the balance on the ground and the other raises perfectly behind her. A powerful sweeping kick caught Rook directly under the chin, knocking the dazed man onto the ground. 

Officer Whey began rushing close, becoming the fifth officer to do so in under a minute. That took the tally of potential assailants to three, and the teenager registered that fact in her mind during the split second she had before he reached her. Adjusting the location of the bare feet once again so they were inline with the limp form of Jenkins, the youngster grabbed the officer's shoulder so that now both hands gripped Jenkins' torso. She then placed one foot on the fourth officer's pudgy stomach and then held him close as she dropped down on her back, rolling across the ground and taking the already dazed man in a semi-circle over her muck-covered head. Instead of landing on the hard ground, there was the noise of air being sucked in as Whey received the full weight of his colleague soaring into the fifth officer's stunned form, as the man's eyes enlarged as it dawned too late what was about to happen. 

The impact took both men down to the ground hard. Whey's head smashed against the earth, blurring the inexperienced fifth officer's eyesight. While this happened, he caught sight of the suspect moving quickly, standing over him and officer Jenkins' unconscious form. Whey attempted to get back up, but Jenkins' larger weight was pressing down on him as the latter was long out. Noticing that the younger of the two men may still be able to get up despite the weight that rested on him, the girl followed up lastly with a two-fingered jab to the temple of officer Whey. That sank him out into unconsciousness, which finally left four men down for the count and a fifth one who was completely incapacitated.

The officers were taken aback when the young suspect moved down slowly, enough to stay in as non-threatening a manner as her mindset would allow, so that she was level with the downed man's limp form. She instinctively checked for a pulse even before she noticed what she was doing. Finding a heartbeat, she nodded. She then stood back up slowly and pointed

"Ok… The…that…him…he's ok. I…well…those guys they are well… they're out but that well nothing more", the female hung her head while saying the last word, which came out in a pant of air. 

She hoped that it might appease the others somewhat, but instead it seemed to have the opposite effect. The man who appeared to be in charge still looked on with hostility, although not as much as one of the other uniformed officers at the scene. There was also deep curiosity, aimed specifically at herself. Perhaps there was something in that. One of the men who were staring at her looked familiar but no name came forward in the teenager's mind. But then, a mild ache started in the girl's head so as to stop the thoughts that were forming, so she couldn't think about it much longer as the current situation was changing. That was because the female noticed that all guns were aimed towards where she stood, ready to fire. Those were dangerous, that much she was aware of. What she did not know was where the information came from. With so many of their own colleagues down, it only made sense that the others would be more aggressive, which could not be good.

"How the hell is she doing that?!", Donnelly questioned, "Shouldn't we be _doing_ something here?".

"No", Chassell's gave a blunt reply, "They didn't wait for orders and rushed in gung ho. They should know better".

"Fuck this", Donnelly stated, as if not even having heard his superior's reply, "Don't know what the hell we're holding back for!".

Officer Donnelly undid the safety of his 9mm Glock pistol and began to take aim by extending the right arm that held the weapon in front of his face. 

"You can't just shoot a child!", Chassell and Chino said nearly in unison as the former placed a lone hand up in front of the firearm. 

"Yeah, think of the bad publicity", Chassell added matter-of-factly. 

He had received a horrified look from officer Chino for his last comment, but the supervisor who was 30 years older than him didn't notice. And neither did officer Brenner because he holstered his own firearm and withdrew a nightstick before carefully stepping closer to the target. Either way, Donnelly took little heed, replacing the firearm with a tazer drawn from his belt by holstering the former and withdrawing the latter. The short-tempered officer then aimed a shot at the chest of the dangerous suspect as that teenager was trading blows back and forth, never looking away from the RDP member she was scuffling with. A slight noise was heard as the tazer claws were sprung forth. Having only a second or less to react, the teenager proved herself to be stronger than she looked by hauling Brenner's entire body into the position of a shield for herself, so the tazer claw clung to his bulletproof vest, thus the protective vest absorbed most of the voltage and saved the officer from feeling the brunt of the attack. Donnelly seethed that the attempt to bring down the youngster had missed.

"You fucking bitch. You little fucking BITCH!!!", he repeated between clenched teeth. Without time for anyone to react, he then whipped the handgun back out of its holster and began to fire, rage feeding his actions. But the shots were taken carelessly and without focus, despite the officer's training and experience. Fifteen bullets in all were fired and one whole clip used. 

The first shot was so close that it left a buzzing in the girl's right ear as it grazed it, painfully biting through the skin there. A second shot simultaneously cut through the right side of the uncovered midriff, leaving a bloody path. Tiny yelps followed, alarm turning to action quickly. The suspect leapt hand-first with the speed and grace of a feline and rolled behind a large clump of rock. Hearing four more of the bang noises made from the firearm following her down, she pressed against the ground and kept her body compact into the smallest space possible. She was trembling, her head shaking and tears were running down her bashed face, but she didn't know any of that at the time.

"Stop please stop", came her hushed whispers, drowned out by the noise of gunfire, so no one else was even close to hearing the desperate plea. 

Chassell contemplated what was going on and, not for the first time, felt really unsure about what had come over the people around him. There was a slight twinge of nerves, perhaps there was something that was his men were not being told. It would not be the first time, but that was still for the basic officers rather than higher ups like him. 

It was after nine more shots had been endured that the noise finally ended. Not sure of what to do, the female peaked around the corner of the boulder, seeing nothing that was pointed in the general direction of the large rock, so she allowed herself to slowly creep from the crouching position and for her figure to be exposed to the group of men.

"Eric, what's come over you man?!", Chino's voice portrayed the displeasure that had ensnared him due to his partner's behavior and also that of the fellow officers before. 

It was almost like a thick blanket was covering everyone's senses, and the officers just had not been themselves. Even Brenner, the most timid guy on the whole force, was overly aggressive, especially since the girl must've be the same age as Brenner's twin daughters. What had come over everyone? Even Chassell appeared not to be normal and everyone seemed to be taking on the same collective mentality. So it made Chino think that someone had cast a spell and taken complete control of everyone there. At least he would've thought that if he had been superstitious, he told himself. But what else could force people to act in such an insane rage? They hadn't been interested in taking the suspect in, but almost like they were trying to kill her, or at least hurt her badly. Donnelly was usually a hothead, but this was too violent even for him. 

As these thoughts occurred, Chino watched with increasing alarm. That's because Donnelly hurled the gun at the terrified adolescent's head. Catching the same bleeding ear that had fallen prey to the bullet, the blow knocked the girl to the ground and a huge egg emerged on the side of her head, even visible through matted hair. It had swollen up to the size of a golf ball within seconds, forcing the right eye to be shut from the pressure of the inflammation. The result of the latest blow was that black and blue took over the top right hand quarter of the criminal's face even as officer Donnelly quickly closed the distance between him and the younger antagonist. 

Hurling his massive form at the bewildered youth, Donnelly shunted the child backwards. The stress on the youngster's body was the final amount of pressure that she could take. Having been trapped underground, then the running and the fear and the attack and these men and the list just went on and on. The girl felt that the body which incased her was finally broken, and it hurt so much. Standing over the limp form, Donnelly kicked a massive foot in the her ribs, possibly breaking a few as his downed opponent yapped in a throb that had gripped all down her left side. Despite his apparently victory, Donnelly kept up the assault, crushing what suddenly felt like bones beneath steel-toed boots. Chassell turned away in exasperation. This was not going well. These were the people who were supposed to deal with the carriers? If that ever got loose, they were all fucked, no way would they be able to cover it.

"Ten four, this is Chassell, suspect's cornered but resisting arrest. Unarmed. Caucasian female approximate ages between 12 and 18. Real bad mess. Doing a number on the men. Tazers negative. Require a tranquillizer dart. Operatives against fatal wound. Possible carrier, will bring in for further tests. Out". 

Chassell turned around to survey the damage, nearly worried that perhaps some of the men hadn't survived the encounter. That would draw far too much publicity. This was already going to cause a few problems, he was sure of that. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

By the time the tranquilizer reached Arkney Woods, to the amazement of the transporters, all but four of the men were down. Only the leader, Donnelly, Bradley and the rookie still stood. A burly man was busy holding the gun on loan from the Raccoon Zoo from several miles away, cursing expletives even before the newly arrived marksman could take a shot. That's because the teenager, whom the officers said had been near unconsciousness a few minutes earlier, was now on the offensive once again. Donnelly was cataleptic before the special tranquilizer gun had even been uncased. 

The curious officer was next, cautiously approaching the growing pile of bodies. It seemed like perhaps this suspect did not want to fight, although that might've simply been because she was exhausted after downing the majority of an RPD assault team. The young woman looked right into the guy's eyes and, for once, had them met by the man in uniform. Huge bloodshot plates gazed like emeralds, nonverbally begging for some kind of ceasefire. So Chino spoke to the girl, which was the first time that anyone had done so with any kind of civility. 

"We're police, we're only here to help you. You can't just do stuff like that to the police. You are going to be in so much trouble. If you come now maybe there is something that can be done, just no idea what". 

"Police? Like…like Mu…", it was all the suspect was able to say before something shoved her roughly to the ground. 

An ear-piercing scream ran wild from her crimson lips, hands on the side of the temples, clawing at the skin which had seen better days, leaving more angry welts.

"NOW!!", Chassell yelled, signaling for the burly marksman to hit the adolescent while something else had her occupied. 

The shot hit with perfect accuracy, striking the disheveled bare neck, the tiny dot of blood wasn't noticeable when mingled with all the other eviscerations. The small mark was nothing when compared with everything else. 

"Who are you?", the rookie officer asked her, concerned about everything that had just happened to her and to his colleagues, and where it would all eventually lead. 

The girl's eyes were filming over and Chino thought that perhaps the tranquilizer had already done its work as the eyelids softly fluttered shut. One more surprise was left for the 19-year-old Chino, as her eyes suddenly opened one last time.

"I…I…I… am…am…I…am…Sha…Sha…Shakahnna", the suspect uttered quietly before lapsing fully into unconsciousness. 


	4. Chapter 4 So it was all just a dream?

December 16th 1995

A loud groan came from the cell. A string of incoherent mumbles followed. Shakahnna finally opened heavy, tedious eyes. Yet besides a headache and disorientation, there was little pain or discomfort. The girl wondered where this place was and, as importantly, what had happened that brought her here. It took a few minutes for everything to come into focus. The bench and the walls were still rather hazy when she first noticed the bars that made up the four sides of the small room.

"So you're finally awake", a gentle voice came floating in through the bars of the cage. 

It finally dawned on Shakahnna that she was in a jail cell. 

Vague memories of a fight, of people falling, bodies going down, bullets and allot of blood. The child's face crumpled and her head hung as bile rose up towards her mouth, a deep nauseous feeling accompanying it. She dreaded the answer to the question that she knew had to follow.

"Did I… hurt anyone? Is everyone…", the teenager swallowed as nothing came out of her mouth, not just yet, and looked at the man outside, locking eyes with him, but barely holding on to the fragile composure. 

"Please tell me everyone is OK. That I didn't… That I didn't…", the child's head could no longer hold itself and drooped once more.

"No lasting damage. Look, I wasn't there and you're a suspect. I can't tell you anything more", the guard almost seemed apologetic, "My partner will be here soon, then when they find out you are awake, they are going to want to question you".

"Understandable", the girl seemed to sober up and take the demeanor of an adult, "Can you at least tell me what is going to happen? I'd rather not go in blind and… This is very new". 

Shakahnna gave a slight sigh at the end. It was one of those times where it would have been good if there had been feelings of sleepiness in her so there would be an excuse not to have to deal with any of this, even if it was only a temporary delay of the inevitable. 

"They'll cuff you and take you to be questioned. You'll be read your rights and then try and find out what was going on. Then you'll be formally charged. Look lady, I'm not on this case, I'm just on watching the cells".

"Sorry", she nodded,.

It wasn't really fair to probe this guy for information anyway as she'd know what was going on soon enough. 

Shakahnna laid her still filthy head against the wall and simultaneously swung the pale legs over the berth so they could touch the ground. She wondered if someone had taken away her shoes, or if they had never been there, as both feet were pretty cold and cut up. It was then that it occurred to her that several days could have passed since the incident in the woods. But this was still a lot better than she had expected. It meant civilization. Perhaps someone would recognize who she was and, once that happened, everything would fit into place and the memories would come flooding back. And at least I didn't piss my pants, Shakahnna thought to herself almost with a laugh since that would have been pretty embarrassing. 

Instead, another variation of her voice began inside her head.

"You've mauled several police officers and are probably gonna seriously get shafted for it. Oh yeah, and you don't know who you are either. Wonderful." 

"Ahh details". The teenager blew it off, "I'll plead insanity. Who wouldn't believe that?".

++++++++++++++

"DISGRACEFUL!!!!", Chief Irons bellowed. 

Everyone knew they must be in hot water when the chief had called them up personally. Irons' cheeks were as red as tomatoes, which only ensured the officers' beliefs that they were in for an extra long yell. The man looked like he had a heart attack coming just around the corner. And most of the people in his office thought that it was too bad it wasn't happening just now.

"A _ROOKIE_, a GODDAMN ROOKIE, outlasts EVERY ONE of you. AND _YOU_!! YOU are looking at DISMISSAL FOR THIS!! WHAT THE _HELL_ is wrong with YOU!! Do you realize how much TROUBLE you have caused?! What the PRESS is going to make of this?!!", Iron's mustache vibrated in the fervor.

"A timid LITTLE GIRL!!! You _MEN_ can't handle ONE LITTLE GIRL. WHAT THE HELL ARE WE PAYING YOU FOR?!".

"Sir, if I could just…", Whey tried to interject. 

"Sir", Irons sneered in mockery. "Well let me tell you. NO YOU MAY NOT. When EIGHT, DID I STRESS ENOUGH HERE _EIGHT_ MEN can't even take ONE KID, not even an _armed_ one either. YOU LOT ARE A DISGRACE!!! You know they have interviewed the damn kid, we got psych in there right now and guess what? SHE'S CO-OPERATING. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA what is going to happen IF SHE TELLS THAT STORY IN COURT?! _YOU_!!!!!", the Chief roared at Donnelly, pointing one chubby finger about an inch away from the younger man's nose, "It's NOT just your career, this is going to tarnish US ALL".

"Even me", the chief added silently for a change after inhaling some air, "THAT'S BATTERY and assault, all to a child. THEY ARE GOING TO EAT YOU ALIVE!!! You had BETTER hope that there is some miracle surrounding this case or you had all better start practicing asking 'do you want fries with that', cause believe me, no where else is going to even LOOK at your applications", Irons finished the last remark off with a sneer.

"And the rookie is getting this case, the guy who's been here LESS than a month is heading the big case", he finally stated.

"W… What?! But…But sir!" Merton and Rook chimed together.

"Did I ASK for your opinions? NO!!! AND you know why THAT is? BECAUSE YOU ARE A BUNCH OF MORONS! EVERY ONE OF YOU. It's a disgrace. I just CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD ALL ACT LIKE SUCH FUCKING IDIOTS! ALL MY HARD FUCKING WORK GONE. YOU COULDN"T ORGANIZE A FUCKING PISS UP IN A BREWERY. YOU'RE ALL BACK TO DESK DUTY WHERE YOU ALL FUCKING BELONG. YOU ARE NOT _FIT_ TO CALL YOURSELF POLICE. YOU'LL WORK ON RADIO FOR THE REST OF YOUR FUCKING SHORT CAREERS!". 

The chief finally appeared to relax, panting for a minute or so, the last round of swearing appearing to have worn the head of the RPD out.

"Well.." Irons calmly drawled out. A predatory smile blossomed across the red balloon that his head had become during the rant. 

"You lot are the last straw. As for you lot, well…", he stopped in mid-sentence, wondering if he had any more screams left in him.

"Dismissed", he found out that he did not.

The collective group did not appear to move.

"WHAT THE _HELL_ ARE YOU _WAITING_ FOR? GET YOUR USELESS ASSES OUT OF MY OFFICE!!!", his irate demeanor didn't take long to return.

The officers did as ordered, leaving the office that was too small for such a gathering in a single file due to the relatively small door. Irons did not even wait until that door was shut before calling his secretary.

"Tell Chassell to get himself in here five minutes ago".

By the time the chief had hung the phone up, his workplace was empty again. He clasped the meaty hands together before cackling to himself.

"Dick. He's a complete dick." Donnelly stated the minute the chief's door was shut behind him.

"You gotta feel sorry for Chassell though. If that was the bollocking we got, imagine what he's in for", Brenner added as the men headed back to their desk.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"This is _bullshit_. We're POLICE officers, not goddamn baby sitters", Donnelly complained to the man who was also standing guard next to him.

Shakahnna thought that the second individual that Donnelly addressed was familiar. Whether that was because he was at the woods when she was apprehended, she did not know. But his identification tag informed her that his name was officer Brenner.

"What the hell do they have us cooped up in here for?! We should be doing something useful, this isn't why we signed up! Instead we're stuck in here with a pill-popping psychobitch who's obviously on PCP. I thought the fucking radio assignment was bad, but THIS make that shit look rewarding, for chrissake!".

"It's only polite, that when speaking about me in my presence, that you should address me, you know", the teenager said quietly as she remained seated on the cellroom bunk.

"You got some nerve!" Donnelly snarled, "You are lucky they don't ship you out to the state slammer without a trial. It's obviously where you belong! You are scum, you and all them like you! We aren't social workers to deal with poor little you's 'issues' and hearing about how you 'had a bad childhood' or whatever. A criminal is a criminal and you are violent and dangerous".

"_I'M_ dangerous? That's rich!", Shakahnna laughed, " If I recall correctly, _you_ shot _me_. So tell me, just outta curiosity, did the badge make the power go to your head or has it always been stuck up your ass?". 

The girl's confidence was returning the more the officer reacted to her taunts. For some odd reason, arguing against this near stranger was as important as worrying about the long term consequences of her current predicament. She thought that she should have more important things on her mind, but it just wasn't happening just now.

"Look, bitch, me and my buddies use force to PROTECT this city from assholes like you! We respond in kind, it's nutjobs like YOU who instigate the violence in the first place and turn the streets into a meat grinder for innocents everywhere, and force me, er... us… to deal with you in the only language you understand", his righteous anger met her defiant gaze through the bars of the jailcell, neither one of them looking away.

"Or perhaps", the girl responded in a less agitated fashion, "It's just an _excuse_ for you to be violent. This way you can pretend that you are better than those people who you hunt down. You enjoy the violence as much as they do, so do tell me _officer_ how does that make you any better than me? If anything, I never got off on the violence, like you did".

Brenner didn't think it was possible for officer Donnelly to become any angrier than he was when he had first been told of the current assignment to guard the young female suspect, but Donnelly's face actually twisted into one that was more enraged than before.

"How DARE you!".

Shakahnna inhaled and exhaled loudly, doing her best to remain calm so she was at least not feeling as irate as she was in the woods during the confrontation with her uniformed antagonist. But she didn't want to let go of the argument with him altogether. No reason a little fun couldn't be had.

"Would you say you had saved allot of lives officer..." Shakahnna squinted to read the name scrawled across the man's tag, "Eric Donnelly".

"Well, _since_ you asked, in the five/six years that I've been here, I personally have saved 13 lives and that is only the solo count", the man's lips turned into a smug smile, even if he had been unprepared for the change in topic, "With the other officers in this precinct, the total is much higher. That much I'm sure of".

He placed his hands in his pants pocket, casually waiting for her to finish her point, as he was confident he could win any debate that started with his track record. Officer Donnelly was meticulous about the raw numbers that identified his performance as well as the performance of his colleagues, and took pride in the notion that his numbers were higher than most others'. He wasn't sure if his opponent was overconfident or had a trick up her proverbial sleeve, but he couldn't understand why Shakahnna kept smiling back at him. Surely he'd be able to win the argument against a common criminal, or at least he should be able to.

"And how many of those thirteen or more people would thank you for saving their life? Or how many just went back to taking drugs, drinking, beating up their spouse or their kids. Do you even know that?", her smile melted to reveal a more glaring look from the youthful face.

"That's none of my business, I was just doing my share", he gladly shot back, "My job was to save them so they could return to their lives, and they WOULD thank me for pulling them out of car wrecks or saving them from robbers that would've otherwise eviscerated them, _kid_".

"Has it never occurred to you that it is quality of life that's more important and not just the quantity?", she scoffed, "Well, clearly it hasn't. But you're incredibly naïve if you think your role of savior and protector is fulfilled when you rescue people and then leave them alone to return to the same miserable life they most likely hated to begin with. What exactly are you saving them from then?".

Donnelly shut up. The teenager thought that maybe it was because she had made him consider the new way of thinking for the first time. Then again, perhaps not. But Shakahnna was sure that she would only be temporarily blessed with the silence.

+++++++++++++++++

A single dim yellow light shone in the holding cell from one large lamp in the basement that the cell was inside of. It provided illumination for the entire holding cell, though the shadows of the bars cut vertically throughout the small room. The animal seen on the far wall first was a rabbit. That was followed by a bird, then a cat, and then finally by a deer.

Shakahnna chuckled as she was seated on the single wooden bench. She was proud of the way the last animal was reflected while she created its shadow puppet by using both her hands. Obviously limited in her options to stay occupied and hold off boredom within the tiny, secure chamber as hours rolled by, she found herself pleasantly surprised at the enjoyment she was getting from this past-time.   
Plus, the animals were cute.

"I guess I should introduce myself", a man spoke from the entrance to the basement, thus the redhead turned to look in the general direction from where the voice had emerged.

Shakahnna thought internally that it must be old age which was causing her to slow down, which was another reason to chuckle over the sarcasm. But still, she believed that she should've been able to sense him entering the room without even having him speak. Maybe the girl had been distracted with her past-time, or maybe she was still just tired from previous events, or it was also possible that her belief of the existence of the alleged sixth sense was just wrong. 

"I'm Stephen Chisholm", the young man who appeared to be in his early twenties continued, almost as if he wasn't sure of what to say or how to say it, "I was there when you ran amok with these yahoos".

Shakahnna caught a glimpse of the man's consciousness in the few words that he had already spoken. She was unprepared for the sudden rush of emotions that seemed to vibrate off whatever he said as well as his unspoken demeanor before being instinctively absorbed and interpreted by her mind. It wasn't a bad feeling, and not a totally unfamiliar one, either, despite the fact that she could not remember ever feeling it before. Then again, she wasn't surprised by that, seeing as to how she could not remember anything at the moment.

"I member you", the girl offered a half smile, one where only the left side of the mouth curled in a grin.

Chino couldn't tell if she was smirking as a way to avoid having a conversation. But a look into her face revealed eyes that were very forthcoming, which reflected the warmth behind them. 

The teenager felt grateful for his behavior, at least, since he had been the first person since this recent ordeal started who was not acting aggressively towards her. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that she had offended any of them by beating them or because she had injured so many of their comrades during the scuffle. But either way, it seemed that everyone in the police station abhorred her, and none of them had a problem showing it.   
It wasn't a nice feeling, and this was the first break she got from the hostile vibes and the negative attitude of those around her.

Thus the teenager was able to relax, even a bit, and let her body ease up from the tension that had been gripping it for the last day. She hadn't even noticed how edgy her figure was until she eased into a more rested position on the bench. So she felt more like herself than in the last twenty-four hours, whoever that may be.

"I'm Shakahnna. At least I think so", she uttered.

A brief pause occurred. 

"OK …Well, as far as I am aware that's who I am", she added when he didn't respond.

"I don't think you need to introduce yourself since, well, I definitely remember you", Chino finally replied.

The young woman didn't answer at first. She wanted the officer to continue talking so that he'd mention how he remembered her. But she was pretty sure he only recalled her in an unpleasant way since she couldn't even recollect if she physically assaulted him before being subdued. But since he was being nice, maybe he was one of the men that she hadn't assailed.

"I couldn't help but see what you're doing, Shak", he gave a slight smile that faded fast, "It hardly seems fitting for someone who decimated the RPD's 'finest'".

He had placed extra emphasis on the word 'finest' so as to sound sarcastic when describing it, and she picked up on it. Maybe this officer was the one person in the entire building that she had something in common with. But then again, maybe not. There was only one way to find out who this individual was, and besides, she was also curious about his identity.

"You don't like your friends here, do you, uh?…What do I call you?", the girl asked as a follow-up to his last proclamation.

"Chino's fine. You can call me Chino. Everyone else does.", he went on, stepping closer to the jailcell, "That and rookie".

"At least you won't be rookie forever, Chino", Shakahnna stood up and came closer to the bars of the cell also as they exchanged glances, "Besides, what's in a name?".

The officer shrugged, though she didn't know what he meant by it.

"You could've been a cop for several years and still be an ass. 'Cough' Donnelly 'Cough'", she smiled, showing off two rows of teeth, "That would've made you a worse person than a rookie, right?".

"Yeah, I suppose. But for what it's worth, the guys don't normally behave like that", he seemed to relax, though remained on his feet and did not find a nearby chair for himself, "I wanted to see if you were OK after yesterday in the woods. What happened there was _so_ disillusioning to see them acting like that. They were all over-reacting". 

"Your friends _are_ a bit on the dickish side when it comes to their fists, but then again, I still don't remember exactly everything that happened. Maybe I attacked them with a tad more ferocity than I remember, maybe scared them a little too", she retorted, "Folks do strange things when they're scared. That I _do_ know about people. Just wish I knew from where".

"Just be glad they resorted to a tranq gun instead of a nine millimeter when they got frustrated, Shak", the officer informed.

"Huh? They _didn't_ use a gun? I could've sworn I gotted shot though. I was sure I did", she reflexively touched the right side of her abdomen with a right palm.

She expected to find a bloodied sizable indentation left by the path of the bullet. But to her surprise, she felt smooth skin. Granted it was dirty and still sore from all the day's activities, but there was no mark indicating that a bullet that had struck her side.

"No, you couldn't have", Chino shook his head, "The resident nurse had taken a look at you last night, found nothing permanent like a bullet wound, Shak".

"Strange", she whispered to herself.

Shakahnna also remembered being grazed on the right side of the face by Donnelly's pistol, which was a blow that blackened her eye and made it swollen shut. Even if her recollection was false about being hit by a bullet, which she still wasn't convinced of, she knew for sure that her eye was inflamed yesterday as she'd been unable to use it while struggling with Donnelly. But here she was, less than twenty-four hours later, and her right eye showed no sign of damage whatsoever.

She knew that such a recovery wasn't normal, but she wasn't about to divulge her thoughts to this new visitor. The girl didn't think that Chino was here to spy on her, but she also didn't know him well enough to trust him, after all. 

"What a great day I be having", Shak laughed lightly instead.

"Are you feeling OK?", he came closer to the bars still, "I know you didn't get shot because you were still dancing around like a machine out there after the rounds were fired. They had to bring in a tranq gun from the zoo to knock you out. You probably don't remember that".

"Yeah, I'm fine, thankies", the young woman partly turned and sat back down on the bench, "Waking up and not remembering everything seems to be a speciality of mine".

"Wadda you mean by that?", Chino finally found a folded metal chair and sat down a few feet away from the bars.

"This is the second time I've woken up and not remembered what's happening", the girl rubbed her own head with the right hand, "The first was when I was in the woods. I have NO idea how I gotted there".

She wanted to remember. More than anything else, she wanted to know who she was and how she got to be in the middle of the woods and why she started attacking everyone who came across her. She just wasn't able to.

"I… I just don't…", she was rubbing her head with both hands now, getting increasingly agitated at her inability to recall anything, whether the memories were important or not.

The blank page that was her past before yesterday was only getting increasingly frustrating. A headache started in the back of her skull and spread, pounding louder into her forehead with every subsequent effort she made to find anything useful from that blank page.

"AAAGGH!", she gave an involuntary yelp as she swung her head backwards, crashing the back of her skull against the dark bars behind the wooden bench.

The headache obviously wasn't made any less intense.

"Shak…", Chino called out at the sight of the self-destructive behavior, trying to get her attention in an effort to hopefully distract her from hitting her head against the bars again.

"BASTARDS!", a fresh wave of anger seemed to overtake the jailed teenager as she yelled out at no one who was in the room.

"I'm getting the RN", the officer stated as he stood up and started heading for the basement door, not waiting for her to answer him.

"NO, I'm fine", she called out after him, her voice becoming calmer during that last statement.

Chino turned around, not sure if he should believe her and return to the chair or continue going outside to bring back the resident nurse.

"Really, I don't need any nurse", she informed him, her rage gone as quickly as it had appeared.

He kept standing still, debating both sides of the decision as quickly and effectively as he could.

"Please come back", she added, almost in a whispered tone.

"Are you _sure_ you're alright?", he asked as he made up his mind and slowly returned to his chair.

"Yeah", she had finished rubbing her head, "That just happens every time I try to member stuff. I think I'm just gonna stop trying for now since that just makes my head be sore".

"What happened? Who were you talking about when you got mad?", the officer inquired as he came back to a seated position.

"Dunno, wish I did", she exhaled as she shrugged her shoulders, seeming more tired as she remained seated on the smooth wooden bench.

Chino exhaled in his own turn, not sure of what to say or do.

"So what happens now?", she leaned her head back and, while resting the back of her head against the bars, partly looked up at the ceiling of the jailcell.

"Well, we took your fingerprints last night when you were brought in", the young man kept looking at her even though she wasn't returning his glance, "They didn't match against any that were on the national database. Our sergeant already decided to hold you over till your prelim tomorrow morning in front of a magistrate".

Her head lowered so she was able to lock eyes with him.

"You wha…?", she asked, her facial expression appearing as confused as she felt.

"OK…", Chino exhaled, realizing he had to translate his words into a simpler version without using jargon, "Our sergeant is in charge of whoever his officers arrest. He decides to hold people in jail or let them go. In your case, he wanted you held because you had assaulted several cops. We also couldn't find your identity by using your fingerprints. Follow me so far?".

She nodded.

"Tomorrow, you'll be taken to see a judge who'll decide what charges will be held for court and if to allow bail", the young man went on, "Bail is where you pay a certain amount of money and show proof of where you'll be living in exchange for being released from jail while waiting for trial. Though in your case, that's kind of a problem, I think, since you don't know where your home is".

"So better get used to this place for a while, huh?", Shakahnna asked, already knowing what his answer would be.

"Afraid so", Chino nodded, "But you'll be OK both here and once you're transferred to the county jail where you're held for a while. You'll be fed and you can take a shower and stuff whenever you need it, plus you can work out if you want. And once the trial happens, you can maybe plead it down to a lesser charge due to your amnesia and being disoriented at the time. It's good that none of the cops were seriously hurt, that should help you get a much lighter sentence, maybe even just probation if you're lucky and cooperate now, considering how old you are".

He stopped for a moment, not sure if he wanted to ask his next question, but doing so anyway.

"You don't know how old you are, right?", he inquired.

She shook her head.

"I can safely say I'm between ten and a hundred", she grinned, locking eyes with him, "So you sure you don't wanna take me home with you, Chino?".

The officer's cheeks turned red, the result of him flustering.

"I'm only kidding, Chino. Don't feel bad", she waved her right hand in the air in front of her face.

"Oh, right…", it took him an instant to gather himself before he went on, "You _do_ need to be careful while in the county jail, Shak. You probably have never been in one before, not that you can remember, but while a jail is guarded like a police station is, it can also be dangerous at times due to having many prisoners. I don't doubt that you can best anyone there, considering what you were doing last night, but still, always be alert at all times".

"I think I'll be fine, I can do stuff", the girl replied as she stood up.

She didn't know why, but she felt compelled to walk to the cell entrance and take a hold of the locked access. To both her surprise and the officer's, the cell door clicked open and the teenager was able to push it out and ajar before stepping through it. The young man's pupils widened while the girl calmly walked out of the jailcell.

"Oh! Oh I… Sorry … I…", the young woman stepped back into the cell and shut the door behind her.

"How did you _do_ that?", Chino asked, his mouth agape. 

"Was magic", she smiled as she sat back down on the bench, "But don't worry, I'm not in on the joke either.

++++++++++++++

Incident report, 12/16/95.

Police Officer Chassell.

Raccoon Police Department.

Call was received by Mrs. Rune last night by a dispatcher who sent out the call of a female adolescent, or female teenager, who was found alone and/or in need of medical condition in the Arkney Woods by said Mrs. Rune and her husband. The call also informed the dispatcher that the female in question, or another unnamed individual, was attacking Mr. Rune in the process of said call.

Upon arrival to the scene, I witnessed said female adolescent/teenager who had released Mr. Rune. After safeguarding both Rune witnesses, I informed RPD officials already at said scene that best course of action in my opinion was to approach same female with caution in an effort to communicate with her.

RPD officials ignored my previous opinion and attempted to subdue said female. Nightsticks were used first, to no avail.

Five RPD officials were injured due to previous attempt to subdue the female. Stun guns were used second, to no avail.

Two RPD officials were injured due to previous attempt to subdue the female, one of the two being from the previous five already-downed officials.

9 mm Glock service pistol was used third, solely by Police Officer Donnelly. PO Donnelly fired fifteen (15) rounds, hit said female suspect two (2) times. Suspect was hit in side of stomach (right) and ear (right). PO Donnelly threw empty pistol at female suspect. Female suspect was hit on the face (top right). PO Donnelly confronted female suspect. A struggle ensued. Injured female suspect had her ribs cracked by PO Donnelly. PO Donnelly was struck and incapacitated by injured female suspect.

PO Chino confronted injured female suspect, attempted to communicate with her. Injured female suspect complained of pain to her head.

Tranquilizer gun was used fourth. Injured female suspect was taken into custody.

Medical Unit One (1) had reported to Mr. and Mrs. Rune. Both witnesses reportedly unhurt.

Medical Units Two (2) and Three (3) reported to injured RPD officials. Injured PO's transported to Raccoon City Hospital. Three (3) of them were kept for observations, the rest were treated and released.

Medical Unit Four (4) reported to injured female suspect. At time of initial examination before stability was reached for transport to Raccoon City Hospital, MU4 staff reported zero (0) gunshot marks on female suspect at that time. MU4 staff reported no marks on female suspect's upper right face. MU4 staff reported zero (0) ribs as bruised or broken on female suspect.

----------------------------------------

Chief Irons crumpled officer Chassell's report in between both his hands, turning the sheet of paper into a ball as he walked by Chassell's desk. The chief then lightly tossed the ball of paper on the surface of the uniformed man's desk as that one was busy with another task, thus getting his attention as desired.

"What the hell is this? What do _I_ care about it?", the older chief sounded annoyed as he looked down at the seated younger man, "This should go in the investigation file and kept there like the waste of paper that these reports are. Why did you put it on my desk to read?".

"Did you not notice something odd about our suspect, chief?", Chassell appeared incredulous at his superior's response.

"No! Now stop wasting my goddamn time and pretend to be doing some work like everyone else here!", the chief barked before walking away.

"My god, you _are_ an idiot", officer Chassell whispered, making sure that only he could hear his words.

Sighing at his superior's incompetence, the young man picked up the service phone that sat on his desk and dialed a set of numbers. He patiently waited a few seconds until someone on the other end of the line picked up.

"Hello", Chassell greeted, "Mr. Claymont, please?".

+++++++++++++++++++

Claymont exited the impromptu meeting as he closed the door to the conference room behind him. It was a few minutes before 1:00 AM, much too late for his taste, but company business was one that sometimes, if not usually, required him to work odd hours. The high-ranking executive knew that about his employers, just as he knew that complaining would accomplish nothing and most likely cost him a lot. Thus, here he was working for his boss when he should've been at home with his family like he wanted. But at least he still had the family members that he enjoyed being with at the moment, and he would continue to do so until his employers required him to do away with them once again. As much as he took pleasure in their company, his lovely wife and beautiful son and daughter were not his first family, and Claymont doubted that they'd be his last since Umbrella went all out to help its employees relocate when those employees were worth the effort to keep.

The aging director picked up a phone that was brought in by a member of Umbrella's elite Security Force. Having placed the receiver to his ear, he dialed the numbers that were used so many times in the past that he had them memorized even without looking at the handset. He only had to wait for it to ring twice before someone answered on the other end. That wasn't a surprise as an employee was always required to be in charge of every line within the company, so Claymont knew exactly what to expect, especially after having given his name and rank before giving the order that needed to be followed.

The order was a short and precise one, and also one that had been heard many times previously, especially by the members of the company who specialized in these matters. It was only after he was done with the phone that he had a second task for the security officer at hand. Claymont used a pen and padded paper that was presented to him after he handed the phone back to write down several words and numbers, the piece of paper then being returned to the younger security specialist.

The executive just had to watch his orders being carried out as the member from Umbrella Security promptly left to have the command dispatched. Claymont sighed to himself, almost wishing he could've been there to see his directive being carried out, but knew the risks would be too great. The cleaners who were on their way to the target were useful, even efficient, but they were also dangerous. While humans who were working for White Umbrella could've done the same job and not been unstable while doing it, humans obviously lacked the ability to eat the evidence after the assignment was completed. The assignment here was a human female, one who was almost an adult, had regenerative qualities and had the ability to take down several members of an RPD strike team. So she could've been dangerous even to the highly-trained WU members and anyone who wished to be an audience during the surprise attack. And even if the cleaners' mission went without a single problem, he wasn't in the mood to watch one of those creatures feeding afterwards.

So Claymont almost wished he could've been there, but not quite. He was too tired just now anyway, so much so that a warm bed sounded like the better alternative. The older director rubbed the top of his balding head with a right hand as he made the way towards the car that was waiting in a personal parking space. Such a headache brought on by the recent stress. It needed to be dealt with quickly, but definitely not by the Aqua Cure that his employers were responsible for making, he chuckled to himself. He hated these late night meetings, of course, but all emergency orders required a conference before they could be given out. Dispatching the cleaners in a populated environment obviously wasn't what constituted an emergency in this line of work, but this particular escapee was residing inside a police station. If she really was an escapee, then she had to be taken care of before she was brought to the attention of the public by being given her day in court. And if she wasn't, then all the effort was wasted on their part, but better safe than sorry.

The story relating to the suspected absconder would be a public relations nightmare due to the leeches at the Raccoon City Press if left unchecked, and there's nothing that Claymont hated more than public relations. The concept that people like him had to answer to the whim average person in this city was one that he despised also. That's especially considering how most people in the town could be led to any direction like cattle as long as their so-called leaders seemed to be looking out for their own pathetic little interest.

Of course, the objective voice behind Claymont's head could've spoken up and told him that public relations was important. That's because the same government that gave Umbrella Inc the power to do anything that it wanted also had to worry about being re-elected by those people he considered to be nothing but cattle. But at the moment, he just didn't feel like being objective as he finally neared his car and pressed the button atop his car-keys to unlock the front driver's side door. He'd be home in about ten minutes and asleep in a warm bed in fifteen minutes, so he no longer had to worry about the evidence that was locked in a jail cell in the RPD basement. And without evidence, those assholes at the RC Press would have nothing to write about except rumors, which could then easily be denied and distracted from.

Plus, even if there were no distractions at the time, then he was sure that his company could make some up anyway. If the government could be creating wars overseas to divert attention from its own corruption, why couldn't Umbrella Inc do the same? It was just good business, after all, Claymont chuckled.

----------------------------------------

It was exactly one-hundred hours that the order to dispatch the cleaners was received. By one-hundred-fifteen hours, six cleaners had been sent out inside a van, crammed in the back of the large vehicle. They wouldn't be complaining about the travel accommodations, and that's partly what made them such an asset. The van with its one human driver should reach its target destination in another five to ten minutes even though it was almost five miles away. Driving in such early morning hours was vastly different than being behind the wheel of a car from sunrise till about nine PM, as the streets were now mostly deserted. So that almost made the ride under the hundreds of streetlights seem like a roller coaster in terms of its speed. 

With any luck, the disappearance from the RPD holding cell should be in the paper by tomorrow morning, and hopefully forgotten by the populace the day after that.

----------------------------------------

Shakahnna was tense. Sleep was apparently unwilling to consort with her right now, despite the weariness that still lingered on. It had been this way since Chino had left a few hours earlier, and although the young officer had promised to return after his eight-hour shift was done, that was still a long way off. 

Even though the ability to leave this confine was available, it would not be of any benefit. After everything that happened in the past two days, living on the run was possibly the only way to make the situation worse. Of course, crashing at Chino's place could potentially be done, but there were two main downsides to that. The first being that they had only met a day or so ago, and even if that wasn't the case, it would be mightily unfair to make the only possible friend in the world choose between the life he had now and having to turn away someone who needed assistance. 

So in short, Shakahnna had to sit put, or at least lay put on the bunk within the holding cell. Besides, this county jail place that Chino had mentioned might not be so bad. 

"Yeah right", she chuckled to herself. 

Well, at least no one was trying to kill her, which was a comforting thought.

Actually, that was pretty relaxing. Shak yawned and curled into a ball as she covered her entire figure from the shoulders on down with the one, thin blanket that had been provided by the officers in charge.

The new room was cold and dark, which were two of the girl's least favorite qualities in any place that couldn't be escaped from. There was something deeply unpleasant here, immiscible and implacable and more than slightly annoying. It was just like the prison before it, just like all the others. How many times did that make it now? How many times before this had she ended up in a cell? Too many by anyone's standards. This had a surreal aspect to it though. It was too dark to see anything and the only noise was a small chittering sound. The girl didn't even want to think what could be making those right now, as keeping level was the most important thing. 

The bright lights and voices arrived all in roughly the same instance. The glare was enough to cause temporary blindness. Slender hands shot up in an effort to rub away the lack of vision. Just as quickly as the lights appeared, though, they had gone. Was it some kind of delusion? Maybe an optical illusion, perhaps?

But if that was all it was, then why were her hands sticky? Although it was dark, Shakahnna could still tell that the warm liquid that was coating those hands was blood. The bright light even caused her green eyes to bleed, causing drops of blood to emerge from the sockets, almost as if they were tears, except they left streaks of red on both sides of her face. The stinging from the blood seemed to only intensify once its presence was acknowledged. It burned further as the eyelids welded themselves together and the second wave of the deadly glow shone in the young woman's face again. 

She didn't expect it to happen, but Shak's other four senses were heightened, probably due to the blindness. She needed the help from her other four senses, too, because this place was no longer empty and she ceased being alone. The individuals who had invaded her solitude within the cell were somewhere nearby, but she just had no idea exactly where. Perhaps they were responsible for the vile odor that seemed to be emanating all around the blinded youth, and who could still feel the blood running down the pale skin of her face, which was most aggravating of all. 

This smell was so strong that it too had a similar effect to the bright lights, it was almost though someone had delivered an uppercut, causing the nose to burst open like a piece of overly ripe fruit. The blood filled the space in between the nostrils, blocking them and making their usage so much harder by having droplets of red spilling out of her nose every time she tried to exhale. Like the gift of sight, the ability to smell was also gone, leaving her with three senses only. 

Even before this had fully sunk in, a third event was triggered. Pain struck Shakahnna at the speed of machine gun bullets, mentally mowing down the girl's defenses. The voices, which had at one time been quiet, had now returned, chattering like the internal sound of hundreds of insecure people. "It's not important", "How could you do this?", "What's wrong with you?", "It's your fault!", "Failed again, what a surprise!", came the words, getting louder and louder. They became shrill and distorted so it wasn't even clear if the creatures behind those voices were human any more. 

Then silence. They must have gotten too loud to be heard, but she used her remaining senses to know that they were still there, and she found herself being even more scared than when she was originally confronted by the officers in the woods. Those officers had been human beings on a mission, of course, but these invaders here had all their variables unknown. A sickening pop sounded at each side of the terrified youth's head, and all was still again. But quiet or no, the last round of pain almost drove the girl towards unconsciousness. Shakahnna knew that the blood from her ears would be mingling with that from her nose and eyes, not that knowing this fact made any difference at the moment. This agony was onto a new plane, as if it was possible, then Shak's very soul would have left the body to escape it, but instead it was trapped and screaming. And yet it was still not done, slowly her mouth began to fill with an iron tasting substance and there was a jellied lump floating in the middle of the mouth itself. 

She didn't know it at the time, but the distress had caused the girl to bite off her own tongue. Spitting it out as well as vomiting the blood, the teenager prayed to die soon. Her senses were gone, she was blind, deaf, dumb and mute in an environment which was undoubtedly hostile. Finally, a flash of pain skewered Shakahnna's shoulder, hot as the fires of hell.

----------------------------------------

Shakahnna's eyes sprung open. The dream had been false but the pain had been real. "What THE FUCK?", the irate prisoner yelped. 

Anger quickly dissolved into fear. There were at least six armed persons in the basement that could be made out in the dim light. One person had already tried to pin her to the bench she was lying on with some kind of blade. The knife had gone right through her left shoulder and came out of her upper back. That by itself was a feat which must have required an immense deal of strength, of course, but it still didn't answer her most immediate question when she wondered what was going on. Trying to sit up only tore the wound deeper. A second wave of pain joined the first as the right shoulder was also pinned to the bench, same as the first. 

A terrible cry emitted from the lips which had begun to bleed as Shak bit down on them hard to deal with the sudden influx of hurt. She only had an instant to catch a glimpse of a long lance that was advancing towards the head.

"Oh no, you fucking don't", cursed the prey, spitting the words out through blood. Although nothing major had been severed, the pain at least impaired the teenager's judgment and movement, which, she guessed, was the idea. 

Since Shakahnna's shoulders were pinned to the mattress below, she used all that was available at this point. Launching her hips upwards, she grabbed the neck of the assailant closest to her bench between two bare ankles and twisted until a loud SNAP was heard. Before the body even had time to fall to the ground from the broken neck, it dissolved, melted right into the floor. Just another day in my fucked-up life, she thought as she turned her attention to the other five aggressors.

"I have just about had enough of this." Shakahnna gritted her teeth and turned to remove the blades. 

With a large cry of pain and with allot of muscle to back up the resolve, as well as with a huge pull, the first blade from her right shoulder was free. This was quickly reversed so the handle was firmly placed in the girl's left hand. While working the other blade, the left hand thrust the knife behind her into the gut of the second nearest assailant before she lifted that same hand in order to eviscerate her target's stomach. That person's hands blindly clawed at the wound, trying to remove the knife. 

The other intruders noticed the plight of their comrade, rushing forward simultaneously. Three of the frogmen held onto Shak's legs, trying to keep them pressed down to the berth while the fourth made a grab for the girl's head. The inmate sat up rapidly, causing the second knife to twist and tear her left shoulder, and at the same time nearly costing the use of her left arm. Shakahnna howled out loud, but the knife was finally out and flying in an arc between the side of the bed and the bars before it landed on the floor, and once again a struggle ensued. She tried screaming in the hope that someone would arrive, that and the fact that the she couldn't hold her tongue back due to the pain anymore.

----------------------------------------

An officer who was transporting an unplugged fax machine down the hallway turned to the colleague who was closest to him.

"You hear that?", he asked.

"It's just that crazy bitch they brought back from the woods", the second officer replied as he brushed off his question and returned to his own task, "Don't worry about it".

----------------------------------------

Using thighs that were more muscular than expected, Shakahnna was able to lift her legs up slightly from the position that was being enforced by the three intruders. As two of them kept restraining her lower body and the third person joined the fourth individual in trying to regain control of the surprisingly fierce target, she completely sat up and raised her straightened legs a few inches off the bench. The third individual who had been in charge of restraining her upper body closed in, attempting to push her back down on the bench. His reward for the effort was to receive a closed left fist that hammered into his jaw. 

Shak didn't hear any sound as that adversary fell down without uttering anything. The punch she had dealt him should've been strong enough to break his jaw, so it would've been strange that he wasn't make any noise as he dropped towards the cell floor. At least the teenager would've thought that the man's silence was strange if she hadn't been distracted by the pain that tore through her torso as she delivered the punch due to the hole that the metal blade had left in the pale shoulder.

The girl's fists were clenched so tightly that her ragged nails were cutting into her palm, and that pain was fueling her rage as she sprung off the bench and stood up on the floor of the holding cell. The same fist was first used like a mace to club down those who sought to hurt her, then unclenching the white knuckles and repeatedly slamming the head of the nearest assassin into the bars of the cell. After about the eighth strike of his face into the vertical steel beams, the creature's exploded, pieces of translucent slime burst over the horrified teenager and the remaining mask clad creatures. 

The last two intruders failed to escape the choking grip from the enraged felon. One man's hands tore bloody chunks out of the girl's hands and arms, especially at the wrist, but to no avail. The last thing he saw was her infuriated face as her fiery eyes had locked with his and her mouth was already turned into a twisted representation of anger and pain. As the fifth trespasser slowly began to black out, his body began to turn to a substance that most closely resembled gelatin. While this happened, the sixth and last remaining intruder used one of the long knives that had previously pinned her to the bench and stabbed her in the back with it. The blade entered her upper back and exited out of her upper chest, but Shakahnna simply ignored it and kept squeezing at what used to be the fifth man's throat. She choked some of the gunk that had formerly been a short man, until the material exploded into the gaping hole which was her open mouth.

Finally left in the cellroom with the last remaining aggressor, the teenager turned to face him and saw that he had picked up a long spear and was a mere instant away from using it. She smoothly reached for the tip of the blade that protruded out of her chest and pulled the entire weapon out through that opening. She reacted instinctively by gripping the flat tip of the blade and lunging for that last opponent even as he did the same towards her. The teenager's weapon found its mark in the man's neck before his could strike her body. Shakahnna retained her grip on the handle of the knife as it stuck out of her adversary's throat before pulling the embedded blade down towards the man's abdomen, tearing a vertical hole in the intruder's torso in the process.

It was only when the sixth marauder melted into the floor and the long piece of metal that had been in his stomach fell with him that she felt the extent of the many injuries she had sustained.

"Chino", shak gagged out, "CHINO!!!", came the second howl from her mouth. 

It was a desperate scream of pain, tears streaming down her face and mixing with blood, as one last scream came from the mouth "CH II NOOO..".

The desperate cry seemed to last for several minutes until there was no more energy left to fuel it. The young woman felt exactly the same void of emptiness that had been there in the woods. This was never going to end.

There was no response. She shouldn't have been surprised at the silence that greeted her cries, but still felt like she was the only living thing in the world.

----------------------------------------

It was approximately 2:00 AM when Officer Stephen Chino returned from the long night shift that had begun eight hours earlier. It had seemed twice as long as it would have normally been due to his desire to return to the precinct. If it was a regular day, the young rookie would have really enjoyed being out and about so late at night, especially with officer Donnelly. The older man was definitely a hothead, but also a riot to be on patrol with. Everything was getting him mad, so it was hilarious to be in his company. Despite this, all that Chino could think about the whole time outside was getting back to check on the girl. Actually wanting to return to the station was a very new type of experience.

He was located in the locker room when he heard the first scream of his name. There was something desperate about the yell and it belonged to a female screamer, so it was not from one of the other officers in this currently all-male precinct. Oh god, that was Shakahnna's voice, he thought to himself after recalling what her voice sounded like while they had been talking earlier. What would cause her to be shrieking out like that? She should've been as safe as humanly possible in that basement holding cell, so was something medically wrong?

The young man raced towards the cells, hoping that he wasn't too late for whatever emergency was most likely taking place. It took him about thirty seconds to clear the distance it should've taken about a minute to cover, but he didn't seem to notice as he was the only person to rush through the access door to the basement. He didn't have time to stop and ask the officers there why they were going about their business as if they hadn't heard anything.

He wasn't disappointed at the false alarm as he came to a dead stop upon reaching the bottom of the staircase and looked over at the holding cell. He himself was out of breath, and the young suspect was seated on the cold wooden floor, breathing hard also. But aside from that, she was fine and there was no one around her. So why did she look so terrified?

"What's wrong?", he asked out loud as he approached the bars of the cell.

"There were… some people here", she started to calm down, clutching at her own upper arms as if to hug herself while she looked around the floor in a confused fashion, "There were…. they attacked me, Chino".

"By who? Where did they go?", the officer carefully looked around the basement as he instinctively placed his right hand on top of the weapon holster on his belt.

"I don't know!", she yelped back, voice laced with hysteria, "They were _here_, in here!".

"When was this, Shak?", Chino asked next, trying to calm her down even as he tried to make sense of what she was saying, "Did someone try to shoot you from out here?".

"No! No!", the teenager shook her head, "They were in this cell, with me! They were here just a little bit ago!". 

Shakahnna was shaking the still unclean head from side to side as the officer stood next to the jail cell and checked the door with his left hand.  
"Door's still locked", he tried to make eye contact with her through the opening between the bars, "How did they get out and lock the door without being seen as they left this basement?".

"I don't fucking know!! They kept stabbing me and I kept hitting them, bones broke but, BUT they just wouldn't fucking stop!!", Shak paused to run nails down her dirty face because she was distressed, "Stop talking to me like I'm some kind of…", her voice was getting louder.

"Shak, Shak", the officer interrupted, trying to think of a way to calm her down.

It wasn't working.

"…crazy who's lost her mind here!!".

"Shakahnna", Chino repeated, keeping a steady eye lock with her till she was done ranting.

"What?", she angrily shot back.

"You're saying people came into this cell without being spotted by one of the dozens of cops in this building, started stabbing you, and then you beat them up", the officer retold her version of events.

"Yes! Exactly".

"Even discounting how crazy the first part sounds, where are the scars on you, Shak? Unless some of them survived and carried their wounded friends with them as they bolted once they heard that others were coming here. And how did they take off without running into me if they were just here? That doorway is the only entrance or exit to this place".

"None of them survived, They DIDN'T BE PEOPLE! At least I don't think, they were like…But I was fighting and I gotted them but they didn't, they weren't normal. People can't do that!", she stood up, eagerly coming closer to the bars and to him as she remembered.

"Then where are their bodies, Shak? And where did they stab you?".

"They melted, Chino", she lowered her voice to the point where it was just above a whisper, bringing her face as close to his as possible, "It was ….. surreal cause like I punched here, kicked there, even broke a neck I think, and _poof_ just melted into the floor. And they stabbed me here".

She pointed at each shoulder with the opposite hand, expecting to show the incredulous cop some deep wounds that would verify her story. All she felt was smooth skin under the dirty clothes that she had on her ever since the confrontation in the woods. Even while surprised, she passed her right hand over the hole she expected to find at her upper chest, but again found only undamaged skin and various spots of dirt and blood that had been over her entire body since the confrontation in the woods.

"Shak, you just had a dream, that's all", Chino tried to come up with a reassuring face that would hopefully convince her that he was right.

It didn't work.

"That wasn't a dream, Chino! It was a dream but then I woke up and it wasn't a dream no more and it hurted so bad", the tone of her voice rose again, "I could feel and taste that shit, that wasn't… It couldn't have been a…".

Her voice staggered, prompting her to sit back down on the bench as she appeared more confused than ever.

"Look, you're still very tired, Shak", his voice was as soothing as he could get it to sound considering how physically tired he felt after a day's work, "Try to get some rest, and I'm gonna ask the sergeant here to get you a clean change of clothes and access to the shower we have. You need to get out of the ones you're wearing as soon as you can".

"I just don't know where the hell they went", she whispered more to herself than to him while she kept facing in the cop's direction.

"Where who went?", Chino added.

"The six guys who jumped me! What are you, deaf?!", the teenager barked back from her seated position, "What do you think, that I've been talking to myself about a fantasy into lala land that I'm living here?".

The officer did not reply, only looked away towards the rest of the room that was around the holding cell. Maybe the calm young woman he had been talking to last night was just a temporary façade and this person who was in front of him now was the real person. Granted that his colleagues had tremendously overreacted while confronting her in the woods, but perhaps she herself wasn't blameless after all, not if she was reacting in such a way to something that was obviously only a nightmare.

"You probably think I'm losing it, don't you?", she interrupted the uncomfortably long silence between them, looking deeply unhappy, but also sounding much calmer all of a sudden, as if she had read his mind.

"No", he wasn't sure whether he was just stretching the truth or just plain lying as he shook his head, "I just think that you've had a very rough few days, and had a bad dream that felt like it was real. But it wasn't, Shak. I mean, hell, where _are_ those guys who were in your cell when you broke them in half? Dead bodies can escape a jailcell now?".

"You're right that it doesn't make any sense, Chino. I could swear that they were inside this room. It's all pretty fucked up right here", the girl looked so young as one slender finger brushed the side of her temple, indicating where the mess was, "Everything else aside, it just fucking sucks when you believe something with all the conviction you have and can't stop believing despite any amount of common sense telling you it's BS".

"I'm sorry", he seemed to mean it, "I wish I could make you feel like it was just a dream, then. But it really was, Shak, nothing more. I promise you. Nothing could've come in here and then disappeared after it died".

She didn't answer, only sighed softly to herself as she looked down, whether at her hands or at the floor, Chino could not tell.

"Promise?", she even looked scared now as she looked up at him from the bench which would be hers for the time being.

"Yeah", he whispered back.

He wasn't sure if she was genuinely angry earlier or was just appearing livid to cover up the fact that she had been frightened.

"Just let me know when that shower and change of clothes can be'd done, but no hurry", she finally replied, "I need some sleep here. Felt like I haven't fucking slept at all, dreams or not".

++++++++++++++

The bad dream seemed to be over as easily as the sun rose, though as slowly also. 

Shakahnna hadn't slept much since the night before, despite Officer Chino's insistence that the holding cell in the basement was the safest place to be as well as his promise that he wasn't heading home before his next shift the next day. Instead of going home to his empty apartment, Chino had opted to spend the night in one of the few beds that were available inside the live-in rooms inside the RPD precinct itself. Those beds were usually used by officers who wanted to take a short nap in the middle of a shift, especially during days when they were mandated to do overtime. It made more sense to have beds there for officers to rest on and to then be sharp during the rest of their stint rather than be tired halfway through their stay within the precinct. But once every blue moon, an officer would prefer to stay there overnight as it made it easier to not have to commute home and then commute back to work for an extremely early shift the next day. So officer Chino had slept in a room that was just one floor over the level of the basement, which would've made it easier for Shak to get his attention in case anything went wrong in the middle of the night.

But nothing unusual had happened during the dead of night until the sun rose several hours later, and the terror seemed to disappear with the introduction of sunlight through the sole, tiny window to the basement. The teenager had stayed wide awake for a few more hours after Chino had left for some much-needed sleep in the temporary bedroom, her movements ranging from laying down on the cell bench to sitting up on it to working out with whatever exercises occurred naturally to her mind. She had eventually fallen asleep during her last rest on the bench, though she did not know what time that was exactly due to a lack of a watch or clock within the basement. 

The inmate only remembered waking up as a sunbeam was protruding through the small window, thus adding to the illumination provided from the single light bulb, and new footsteps were heard approaching her cell. Shakahnna was on the bench and lying on her back when she lifted her head to see that officer Donnelly was accompanied by another uniformed man whom she did not recognize. 

The first emotion she realized was that she must've fallen asleep, but it could only have been a short time before the sun rose to wake her up. The second was that the inside of her mouth felt like the surface of a desert that hadn't seen rain for ages.

"Hey Donnelly, make yourself useful and get me some water", she declared as she laid the back of her head down on the bench again, staring up at the cellroom ceiling, "My mouth tastes like badger".

Maybe it was the short amount of sleep that attributed to her more peaceful persona, but either way, she was feeling pretty good.

"Why don't you kiss my ass and see how that tastes, you fucking bitch?", the annoyed officer replied as he and the other man were still approaching her jailcell.

"Come on! I need a shower", Shak protested playfully as she turned to a seated position, "The sooner I'm under running water, the sooner you can join me in there and be all hot'n wet instead of angry".

Donnelly didn't respond verbally, as words escaped him while his face contorted to a furious expression and he pressed his teeth together. Seeing the teenaged inmate blowing him a kiss didn't help. The second officer in the basement moved towards the entrance of the area for confinement as he was trying to suppress a laugh, so that man ended up snorting a chuckle before he pretended to cough. Shakahnna could see that his identification tag had him named as Officer Marvin Branagh as he then proceeded to open the door to the cell. His attempt was blocked as officer Donnelly placed his own arm between Branagh and the locking mechanism.

"She's too dangerous to be let out", he took charge as though he was the superior officer in the basement despite he and his colleague being of the same rank.

"Are you still on that?", the inmate scoffed, addressing him as if Branagh wasn't even behind him, "Jeez, we need to get you a hobby or something, Donnelly".

"But Chino said…", officer Branagh started, replying to his more aggressive associate.

"I don't care!", Donnelly interrupted with a bark, despite not seeing Shakahnna's double thumbs-up at the mention of the only RPD member who she believed to be sympathetic towards her.

That got a slight smile from the calmer officer who was still standing behind Donnelly because his colleague still denied him access to the jailcell door. It was only then that Chino appeared at the entrance to the basement, following the first two men as he carried a dark blue RPD shirt and similarly-colored sweatpants.

"Hey Chino", the inmate waved a greeting with her right hand, beaming a smile as she saw him, "Donnelly here said he'll drop the charges against me if I take a shower with him. Are you cops allowed to do that?".

"It depends on how good your performance is", Branagh snickered as a reply.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!", her uniformed antagonist shoved his right finger through the bars as he angrily pointed at her and ignored his colleague.

"His anger is only proof of his guilt, you know", she still addressed the newest officer in the basement as she curled the dirty red hair around her right index finger and flashed a mischievous smile.

"Order of the sergeant, Eric", Chino sighed at having to witness another verbal altercation between these two individuals, "She gets a shower and these".

He approached his two colleagues as he kept the new clothes folded in his left hand.

"And the sarge said I can relieve both you guys and have you go about your respective duties, as I'm sure you have many important things that require your capable attention", he also notified the two men.

He was sure that Donnelly swore under his own breath as he then tapped Branagh on the shoulder with an indication to follow him out of the basement. But before he headed towards the exit, he addressed the inmate one last time, with his right finger still pointed at her.

"This isn't gonna last forever, dumb bitch", he hissed, "Once you're in jail, whenever and wherever that is, you just let me know and I'll gladly go for round two".

"I got your number, I'll be giving you a call", her mood became more serious, even if only temporarily.

"No, you won't", Chino interjected as the two other officers proceeded to leave the basement area and left him alone with the sole inmate who was behind bars.

----------------------------------------

Once past the exit door, officer Branagh slightly turned to Donnelly as they were climbing up the stairs towards the first floor.

"I don't see what's so bad about her, she seems nice enough", Branagh uttered.

"Shut up", his colleague spat out. 

----------------------------------------

There were several moments of quiet between the officer and the inmate once they were left alone in the holding cell basement. It was tense and Shak wanted to break the ice. Fortunately for her, she didn't have to speak up first because Chino cleared his throat in a movement that indicated he was as anxious as she was.

"Did you get any sleep?", he asked first as he handed the clean clothes through the bars.

"I didn't get any more dreams, and I do member waking up when mie good friend Donnelly paid me a visit, so I must've be'd sleeping at one point, probably just before it was time to wake up", she smiled as she stood up and took a hold of the RPD shirt and sweatpants, "Do you think he likes me?".

Another flash of smile followed the last question.

"Not unless he has a thing for following inmates to jail and duking it out with them in the prison yard as other inmates cheer", his appearance relaxed a bit as he replied.

"Ah, but see, I have it all figured out. That's just a ruse", she gleefully answered, feeling glad that Chino didn't hate her, "He just wants to touch me. You know how little boys pull the hair of girls they like. Bet you it's the same thing".

"Eric just has a hard time letting go of past grudges. He believes that striking an officer is the equivalent of disrespecting the entire RPD".

"How did _you_ sleep?", she quickly moved on to other topics before they got stuck on something they would not be able to agree on.

"Pretty well. The beds we have here aren't bad", he proceeded to unlock the jailcell, "I was out like a light as soon as my head touched the pillow".

"So where do I go with these?", she asked as the cell door was opened from the outside and she retained her hold on the new clothes.

"Just down the left hall after you get up those steps", he pointed towards the staircase, "You can't miss it. There are towels there to dry off with afterwards and soap and shampoo to use".

"You don't be coming with?", she asked as she exited the holding chamber legally for the first time.

She realized how the question sounded due to the fact that the officer wasn't answering.

"Oh, not, you know, not in the shower! But, but, aaah…", she rushed to add, "I just meant you're not gonna be escorting me there, as in be mien guard?".

"There'll be other cops there, don't worry", he stated, wishing he didn't have to hand her to someone else to watch since there didn't seem to be anyone else in the building that she felt comfortable with.

"Oh, OK", her facial expression looked sad despite her attempt to hide how she felt.

She didn't like the idea of being around some other people, especially not during a time when she could be vulnerable, however short that period may be. But she knew he was only doing his job and there was no point in drawing more attention to Chino than his conduct must already be doing.

"By the way, Donnelly didn't really say all that", she mentioned to him behind her without turning around as she proceeded towards the staircase, "I was just playing. It's hard to resist when it's so easy to provoke him."

"I know that, Shak", was the only reaction to be had from him.

She didn't say anything else. There was nothing else she would allow herself to mention.

"I do need to head out pretty soon, Shak, but will see you when I get back after my 8 hours are done, OK?", he interjected.

"Promise?", she whispered without turning around again, but stopped walking towards the door for an instant, not even sure why she was feeling as melancholy as she did.

"Yeah, I do".

The answer made her feel good enough to resume walking towards the destination.

"I had just wanted to say …you know, thanks for coming back", she sighed while resuming the baby steps towards the door.

----------------------------------------

"So Chino, we heard from Brenner that you were down here last night being all cozy with the suspect? What's going on with that?", the question sounded more like an accusation than a social query. 

Officer Chino had sat down at his desk to have a few minutes of quiet time to himself before his long, and loud, duty required him to be outside. 

"What? What in the world are you talking about, Merton?", the young rookie was more surprised by the tone of the older officer than anything else as he wasn't expecting the interruption while readying to leave for an eight hour long patrol shift.

Instead of having the privacy he expected, he saw several of his colleagues closing in around him, and none of them looked happy.

"You're so desperate for a date that you're trying to get some from the inmates now?", officer Rook added, not taking away from the excess of blame against him.

"What the hell is wrong with you guys?", Chino's voice shook just a bit. He didn't know whether it was enough to be noticed by the hostile eyes that were aimed at him.

"She was screaming in her cell for god knows how long", the rookie continued, not liking how many officers were gathered around his desk, "It's fine if you don't wanna go in there to check what's wrong, but don't you have anything better to do than to get on my case because I did?".

"You seem to be forgetting which side you're supposed to be on, boy", officer Irving barked, joining his colleagues in the verbal attack, "You're just out of diapers and you think you're gonna tell us how our way is wrong?! You know _nothing_ so far".

Instead of thinking of a reply, Chino found himself quietly wishing that Shakahnna had been there to even out the odds now. Too bad for him that she wasn't within earshot.

"That little cunt made us all look bad and you're down there chatting it up with her. Do you always get a big head because Irons gave you what should've been mine?", Merton continued when the youngster didn't reply.

The rookie didn't have time to think of a retort when he heard another set of footsteps approaching his desk from behind. He dreaded to think that a fourth member of the RPD was closing in with complaints and accusations of his own, but didn't get to ponder about it for long.

"About time I found you, Steve. We're late to take the car out", officer Donnelly spoke up to be heard since he knew he was interrupting a conversation between the rookie and the three older men, "The fine citizens of this city don't skip their daily stabs of each other with ice picks after breakfast just because we're not out there, you know".

The only thing Donnelly received was silence as all four officers quietly stared back at him.

"Am I barging in here, guys?", Donnelly continued as he was adjusting a kevlar vest around his torso over his uniform.

"Some of us just have a problem with how your partner here has been consorting with the suspect from the woods", Rook finally told him, "You know, the one who had all of us swallowing dozens of painkillers once we got back from the woods. Apparently the rookie thinks that there's just a misunderstood nice person under there if we just give her a chance".

"Well, every employee in this building is entitled to his own opinion, as long as they're employees and not suspects", Donnelly locked eyes with all three men who were standing around Chino's desk, "So you're welcome to have a problem with what my partner's doing, but from now on, if you want to confront him over it, just remember that once you have a problem with a cop, then you have a problem with his partner too".

The three angry officers gritted their teeth, but no replies were made.

"So does anyone here have a problem with me and my partner, gentlemen?", Donnelly went on as he had secured the safety vest over his RPD shirt.

Rook partly looked down at the floor as he sported an annoyed expression on his face while the other two men angrily locked eyes with the rookie's partner.

"Too much negative energy going around towards your brothers-in-arms, guys", Donnelly went on as he tapped Chino on the shoulder, "Find something else to spend your energy on, OK?".

----------------------------------------

It wasn't long before the other officers grumpily went back to the work that was awaiting them, which left patrol officers Donnelly and Chino to leave the precinct to find the RPD vehicle that was awaiting them. It was on their way to the underground garage that the rookie turned to his more experienced colleague and mentioned something that was more important than the weather outside.

"Thanks for back there, Eric", Chino blurted out, not sure whether his partner wanted to hear that or would've preferred to just leave it alone.

"You're welcome", the older man sighed as they were approaching the empty squad car.

"I know you're not a fan of Shak, but the way this…", the young man was glad to be conversing about the topic.

"Shak? The suspect has a name?", Donnelly interrupted.

"Well, yeah, she _is_ a person", Chino chuckled in response, "Like I said, I know you and her aren't friends or anything, especially after what you did to each other in the woods. And I wasn't talking to her because I approve of any of the… events that took place when she was trading punches and kicks with you". 

Chino paused, waiting to see what his partner's reaction would be.

"Steve, what you do on your own time, with a suspect or no, is your own business", the senior officer went on as they both opened the front doors to enter the vehicle, "It doesn't mean I have to like it, but you don't have to explain yourself to me".

"I'm not sure what state of mind she was in when we cornered her, but she really isn't like that, Eric", the younger man continued while he strapped on the seatbelt from the front passenger's side and his partner settled down behind the wheel, "If you two were ever to talk, I mean, _really_ talk, you'd probably get along better than you expect".

"Oh please", Donnelly started the car after he was strapped into the front driver's seat, "You're trying to make us into friends now? I said I can live with you talking to this chick as long as you're just playing peacemaker and not picking her side over mine if I ever run into her again, but it doesn't mean we're gonna be getting together over drinks".

"I just don't know why she seems to be winding you up whenever you two run into each other", Chino thought out loud.

"Maybe it's the PCP she was on when we confronted her", Donnelly scoffed, "But I wouldn't mind having another go at her when she's not on that shit".

"As long as it's not inside the jail itself, right? Wouldn't be right to do that when you don't have us there to make sure the other inmates aren't cheating by hitting you from behind", the passenger answered, "And you know that, if they get you from behind while you're in jail, then getting punched or kicked is the _least_ of your troubles".

His partner didn't say anything else, opting to smile only as the patrol car drove out of the garage entrance and came upon the first street that intersected the police precinct.


	5. Chapter 5 Posession of a Tyrant

Author's Note: Just wanted to say thanks to Jheti, Nyohah and Thou Captain for all the help. You guys are swell. On with the story…

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Shak was seated on a bench with her head down and hanging roughly at the same level as the knees which were now clean. Using a towel to dry out the last of the shower water from her hair, the red locks had begun to shine now that the muck had finally been removed from them. The hair appeared to radiate like fire wherever small beams of light hit it from the frosted-out window. 

Finally rising to her feet, she took in a deep breath, mentally bracing to deal with the officers once again. She knew that more than one RPD employee was outside as the security had to be tight around her whether she had calmed down after the confrontation in the woods or not. With a firm resolve, she pushed the door open and stepped out to the corridor where the armed guards were waiting. 

Initially, there had been several complaints against the idea of letting the inmate use the policemen's shower. Yet, given the orders, there wasn't really much choice but to allow the girl temporary access to their personal cleaning area. If there hadn't been so much hostility, then Shakahnna would have been grateful to them for letting her use the equipment as well as the various toiletries. But instead she ended up having to go towards the shower by passing men who wore one style of angry facial expression or another. 

Once the shower was over, returning to her jailcell was more than likely not going to be much fun. Chino just couldn't get back soon enough. 

The officers almost thought that they were staring at someone else since, after a shower and a change of clothes, Shakahnna looked like a whole new person. The sheer difference was huge. Save the people who had attempted to capture her in the big forest, none of the officers in the building could've identify her once her skin was free of dried mud and blood and her clothes were new. She might've even slipped out of the station with relative ease, as it would have been very difficult for anyone to recognize the young woman from the mug shot that they had already seen because there was nothing to make her stand out. If it had not been for the intense eyes that constantly seemed to have a source of fire behind them, it would have been nearly impossible to connect the earlier picture to the image that was being portrayed by her at the current time. The former showed someone who had been raised in the wild, was extremely untamed and messy. The hair dull and lifeless, the skin caked in blood, sweat and who knew what else. At the same time, clothes were spoiled and torn. Finally, there was no real sense of life to that person, and if the girl had not been moving, it would have been very easy to mistake her for one who was dead. 

In contrast, the second image illustrated a girl who was not quite pretty but not hideous either. Big wide green eyes that sparkled, smoldered and even shone, with thick dark lashes giving them an almost innocent look. A smooth, if a little pale, complexion with rosy cheeks and bright white teeth which hid behind cherry colored lips. A mane of thick hair which, under any light, looked like spun gold on fire and surrounded the face before trailing down the back. Finally, the brilliant red hair looked almost out of this world since all the grime from the mud was gone and the mane cupped the face lovingly, making locks thick and lustrous. Gone was the fatigue from the sturdy body and the stress from the previous night, and the inmate teemed with life. 

Suddenly people became slightly less hostile. Perhaps it was because the girl no longer resembled something from a bad b-horror movie. Or maybe it was because the girl's face was almost pretty. Almost.

The Raccoon PD field outfit, which had been the only clothes that could be scrounged up, hung mockingly to the curves of the young woman's body. It was ironic to view the teenager in such attire, but it was all there was on offer, so it would have to do under the circumstances. Even finding those pieces of clothing had been a stretch, since they must have been left behind by a former employee because no one claimed them. 

But it has been essential to acquire new threads since the girl's previous clothing was virtually un-wearable, so any pieces of clothing that could easily be found within the police building ended up having to do. Thus, at least on the surface, the newest member of the RPD was a young potential felon. 

"So….Do I get the gun to go with it?", Shakahnna offered a brilliant and playful smile along with the comment before hopping back into her cell.

----------------------------------------

It was another nine hours before the patrol car that was being used to transport officers Donnelly and Chino returned to its home base. It should've been eight hours for a normal shift to be over, but a domestic violence call in the last minutes of their scheduled time outside prompted both men to arrive at a house where a married couple was in the middle of a vicious fight. First task was to separate the husband from the wife. Second objective was to make sure that neither of them had access to the kitchen knives, pots, pans and miscellaneous weapons such as clocks and mirrors that lay around the ravaged living room. It should've been appropriate to place both individuals in handcuffs and under arrest, but the extent of injuries on them both suggested that waiting for an ambulance to arrive and treat them on the scene made more sense. So the officers ordered them each to sit on chairs on the opposite sides of the living room while they both bled profusely and had trouble breathing. Donnelly kept an eye out of the open front door while waiting to guide the ambulance crew towards them while at the same time shooing away any pedestrians whose curiosity brought them close to the door itself. Chino, on the other hand, was constantly alternating his head between the husband and wife to confirm that they kept pressing the provided piece of cloth against whatever parts of their body that was bleeding as well as to make sure they didn't stand back up to make a move towards each other.

The medical unit arrived within fifteen minutes since neither one of the victims was experiencing a life-threatening situation. Once there, it was only a few more minutes spent where the emergency technicians gave both victims a check-up before evaluating them as not suffering from internal bleeding. After that, the only duty left was to place them both in custody and escort them to the back of the patrol car for the transport to headquarters. The fact that both individuals' wrists were secured behind them made it much less likely that they could harm each other while on the way to RPD headquarters, so they could ride in the back seat together without much need for supervision. All that activity mandated that each officer gets about an hour of overtime by the time both spouses were being fingerprinted and Donnelly and Chino had their paperwork about the incident completed. 

While the overtime would've normally been a welcome financial bonus, Stephen Chisholm wished that the last-minute arrest had not taken place as it delayed his returning to base and finding out how the Raccoon Forest suspect was doing. He first saw Shakahnna through one of the security screens that had a live shot from the basement. Nine cameras had been placed in the basement, each showing a different holding cell, and carrying the live images to the first and second floors of the RPD building. They were in place just in case any person being detained there attempted to escape or commit suicide, or even attempted to overcome an officer who was interacting with them. While seven of the nine screens now showed an empty room and the eighth showed a middle-aged man who was napping on his bench, it was the ninth that officer Chisholm was paying attention to as he stopped while passing by them. It showed Shak on her stomach and resting diagonally on the bench as her feet were locked among the cell bars behind her so as to keep her legs immobile. She also kept her fingers intertwined behind her neck to keep them in place. In that position, she was repeatedly lowering her upper body vertically towards the floor before raising it horizontally to the bench itself.

"At least she's keeping herself busy", he chuckled, wondering to himself if she'd do shadow puppets again.

He remembered the verbal confrontation some of his fellow officers had given him for interacting with her earlier. But now that his daily tour of duty was over and he had free time to do as he pleased, their disapproval just didn't seem that important since nothing official was keeping him from visiting the basement again.

----------------------------------------

She heard the footsteps long before anyone had appeared through the partly-opened basement doorway that led to the staircase to the first floor. Having been on her own all day long, she had constantly kept an eye on the door whenever she took notice of any noise emanating from that general direction. Seeing the upside-down image of officer Chisholm walking through that same doorway made the teenager lift her head up to get a better look at what state he was in after his long day outside. 

Shakahnna placed her hands palm-down on the cell room floor before she unhooked her feet from the bars, then shifted her body weight on those same arms. Swinging her legs upward, she then brought her entire body forward before rolling herself into a ball by tucking her legs in. As she tumbled onward, she switched upside down and finally came to a standing position on her feet again.

"Hey, how be'd your day?", she exhaled once with a smile, still catching her breath, "You look tired, you all right?".

"Long, of course I do, and yeah", Chino answered as he entered the large basement and walked past the cell containing the one, unconscious male inmate, "How was _your_ day?".

The inmate chuckled at the question, widening the smile on her face as she partly looked up at the cell room ceiling.

"I acquired a shower and now I be's all clean", she answered as she returned her gaze to lock eyes with him again, "At least physically. They then showed me a bunch of inkblots. It be'd psych evaluations I'd presume. It wasn't so bad, just deeply, deeply boring".

"We should've had you with us when we broke up the boxing couple, then. It was like one of those wrestling matches where any and all goes, including picking up chairs and trashcans to use against your opponent. At least you wouldn't have been bored", his dry answer was obviously raw.

"Wrestling matches? With chairs?", Shak's face revealed the confused state of mind she felt.

"You probably haven't seen the way sports entertainment is shown on TV. It's OK", the officer replied as he approached her cell to the point where he was almost within her arm's reach through the bars.

"Why, what happened?", she asked as her breathing calmed down to that of a relaxed person's, "And are you sure you don't wanna sit down? I've been here on my ass all day, so got a lot of energy to burn, but you've been outside for ages".

"Yeah, good idea", he agreed as he spotted a folded metal chair nearby.

He unfolded the chair a foot in front of the bars and planted himself on top of it before leaning each of his elbows on his thighs and interlocking the fingers of his hands together. 

"Does there be anything I can do?", she asked next with a much more serious expression on her face before he had a chance to speak.

The question caught him off-guard as his eyes widened just enough to be noticed and his head jerked a few centimeters back.

"Um, probably not, Shak. I'm fine now that it's over, and Eric was helping throughout the entire incident, so I wasn't really in any danger", he sighed, recalling the events from just over an hour ago, "But just lots of screaming, lots of fighting with blood everywhere, lots of unhappiness, and more fighting after that. We arrested them both, for all the good it'll do".

"Wadda you think will happen to those people?", she could see the weariness on his face, "And how many people did there be?".

"Just two.", Chino informed her, "And they were knocking lumps out of each other. As far as what will happen to them, I'm guessing they'll make bail long before their court date, Eric and I will be subpoenaed to testify in court, and the boxing couple will most likely get probation and be ordered to attend counseling".

"Would Eric be Donnelly, then?", the grin reappeared on her face, "When _is_ he coming back to visit me again?".

"Yes, that would be Donnelly", he answered, wishing she didn't look so happy at the thought of provoking him.

"Oh, come on, Chino, how can you resist when he's _so_ easy to wind up?", she asked, reading the look on his features.

"Because Eric is better able to help me out when we're on the streets when he's not already raving about something that pissed him off even before he went on patrol", a slight grin appeared on his own lips.

"Nonsense, it's good for him", she sarcastically waved her right hand, "I'm stopping him from having a heart attack. And if I happen to get a little bit of enjoyment from the good deed, then who do _I_ be to argue?", an angelic smile following up that statement.

"Well, how do you think that couple started beating up on each other? I'm sure that leaving work pissed off didn't help them before they made their neighbors call 911", the officer tried to be serious again, but Shakahnna was having none of that.

She started to snicker at first, then laughed out loud at the thought of her being married to Donnelly and having to go home with him.

"What in the world are you laughing at?".

The teenager tried to answer, but only succeeded in laughing harder, and thus forcing herself to sit down on the bench as tears formed below her eyes.

"E… Eric and Sh… Eric and Shak Donnelly!!", she managed to gasp before returning to another hysterical fit of laughter that almost made her fall over the bench.

"Are we on the same page here, Shak?", Chino smirked involuntarily as he waited for her to calm down.

Unfortunately for him, the mental picture of her and Donnelly being married was causing her to have a hard time when it came to the task of focusing.

"That's OK, take your time", he finally accepted the inevitable after a minute of loud amusement on her part as he leaned back on the chair and hoped that no one was watching this scene from the overhead cameras.

It was a full five minutes of hysterics before the teenaged suspect finally calmed down and returned to a seated position on the cell bench.

"I'm sorry", she uttered as she was wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, "I do member us supposed to be having somber words".

"That's OK. I'm glad I was able to let you have some fun after everything that's happened", he went on.

"You know, I really have no idea who I am but I think I'll be able to have a little fun no matter what is going on. Well within reason of course", she seemed to be making an effort to calm herself down and put some distance between her current mindset and the mental image of the hilarious marriage.

The teenager intentionally returned to a more serious tone because she wanted Chino to keep talking about his day and knew that he wouldn't be able to do so if she kept living in her own world.

"So, you were talking about this couple?", she started, "Did it be a man and a woman?".

"It's a couple", he answered as if it had been an obviously simple question, "So yeah, of course it's one man and one woman".

"Well, it could've been a couple of geese", she replied quickly, "Was it really both of them pounding on each other?".

"Like a pair of prize fighters going at it for that ultimate cash payoff".

"I thought these things were usually one-sided, like some guy beating up his girlfriend".

"Not always", he shook his head as if remembering too many of his past cases at once, "You'll be surprised how much women can dish out. Usually it's a case of both people tearing lumps out of each other as opposed to one standing there and having the living daylights kicked out of them". 

"How badly did the people be hurted before you got there?", the teenager stretched her arms behind her head.

"They had managed to reach, uh, three black eyes, one broken nose and… a pair of loose teeth before me and Eric got there", Chino remembered.

"Pfft, amateurs", the inmate chuckled as she was done stretching, which drew a critical look from the man who was on the other side of the bars.

"Just kidding, really", she held her hand in front of her with the palm facing him once she realized that he wasn't sharing in the joke.

"And they were still trying to reach for a rolling pin and a frying pan after Eric and me ordered them to stop. Damn kitchen is full of weapons when you're not interested in cooking, I'll tell you that much. She was trying to use the frying pan as an offensive weapon and a shield for when he swung the rolling pin at her head. Very ugly", he finally sighed.

"Dueling for the 20th century", she remarked.

"I wonder if that phrase that society is only skin deep is true. I used to think it wasn't. But I just don't know any more. Neither would anyone else who had to escort those two after their ambulance came and left, that's for sure. And they'll make bail and get probation with some bullshit anger management mandate before they're set loose to kill each other again in a couple of weeks", he seemed to be getting more exasperated as his head descended lower towards his legs.

Shakahnna got up from her bench and approached the bars, squatting in front of them and reaching through them with her right arm. She placed her right hand on his left knee and gave it a squeeze before letting it go and sat down cross-legged on the floor.

"OK, granted, as a policeman especially, you're gonna see a lot of stuff that's gonna confirm that particular statement", she told him while he raised his head a bit to look down into her eyes from between the bars, "But, and yes there _is_ always a 'but', you only be seeing one side of the coin. When it's your job to only see the negative every day of your life, it's easy to get caught up and think that that's all there is, but there are so many good people out there. In your line of work, you just don't come into contact with them".

"How do you know that they're there?", he questioned, wanting desperately for her to prove that what she was saying was true.

"I feel it, Chino, and look at the people that you're working with".

"You're counting the guys you beat up and who turned your face into pizza as proof?", his facial expression looked confused.

"Well, for a start, look at you", she knew she was in for a long discussion.

Luckily for Shak, she had the time.

"You're sitting here, in your own time, most likely getting hassled, just to spend time with me, and granted my experience with them didn't be exactly sunshine and smiles, but I don't doubt that at least some of them be good people. Who was there with you tonight? You didn't split that couple up alone, did you? And what about the medics who be'd there to help with their injuries? So that makes at least four good people to the two who are no doubt not bad people, but not as advanced civilly as they should be".

She did her best to conveniently ignore Donnelly's involvement and simply summarized him along the four individuals she had mentioned.

"Maybe so, but being a 'good person' is by no means proof of something positive", he mentioned as he placed the two words in quotations with the index and middle fingers of both hands, "I'm sure you've heard that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and if you haven't heard it, then it is".

"I'm sure it's much easier to get into hell by buying an uzi on the black market and mowing down a bunch of grade school kids", was her comeback.

"Except the city, and the country and world with it, isn't a dump because of the serial killers and mass murderers out there, Shak. You could add up the body count from every multiple killer out there and it'd still only be 10 to 20% of the murder rate. Most deaths and misery is caused by everyday 'good' people who don't have a rap sheet and spend most of their time minding their own business".

"Which, again, is only seeing one side of the coin, Chino. I mean, imagine if every average Joe out there was be'd making life hell for the general population, then you wouldn't have enough jail cells for all the crime out there. But you don't have that problem because most people _don't_ act like that, no? The percentage who break the law is lower than that who don't be".

Officer Chisolm did not answer, opting instead to rub his face and hair with both his hands. It was only after he took the hands away from his face and looked back into the holding cell that he realized how surprised he had been at her behavior. The irony of an inmate telling him to believe in the job in particular and human nature in general was not lost to him. 

"Are you here just for a prep talk or is there anything else I can do for ewe, Chino?", she finally interrupted the few moments of silence between them.

"Why is it that you weren't able to sound this calm and objective when we saw you in the woods, Shak?", he asked half from curiosity and half because he wanted to change the subject, if only temporarily.

"I had all day here to think", she grinned back.

Her smile faded and returned her face to a serious expression.

"And I'm not scared", she added.

"Must be nice", he stated, "It hasn't been so long since I used to be fearless, so I _do_ remember what it feels like to not be scared, but haven't felt like that for quite some time now".

"All I can advise is a brawl with nine armed officers, and funnily enough, everything else doesn't seem so bad", she told him without a smile, but with a friendly tone of voice.

Although he didn't know why, the comment embarrassed him a bit, so he changed the subject.

"You look very normal, have I mentioned that yet?", he asked as she stood off the floor and resettled down on the cell bench.

"No, you hadn't, but thankies", she smiled, "Now if I could only be changing my personality, You'd have a regular member of society on your hands".

"I'm not entirely sure that would be a good thing", he responded, "But a word of advice for when you go to court, Shak. When you're talking to the judge, act just like you're acting now, and tell him that you found god in jail. You'll be amazed how often that works".

++++++++++++++++++++

Claymont sighed. 

He was bored, and he wished he was almost anywhere other than stuck in another boardroom meeting. It was the second major emergency meeting called in the last week, and in a job that usually only required one conference approximately every two months, the second one in a week was overkill, as far as he was concerned at least.

So the target in the holding cell hadn't been dealt with as expected, and the cleaner crew was missing and presumed disposed of. How one girl could've incapacitated half a dozen cleaner agents was obviously beyond him, but it was no excuse to drag him out of a warm bed and force him to put a suit on so he could've been sitting on these plush chairs. And to make matters even worse, three people at this meeting decided to keep him waiting as three of the ten chairs around the oval-shaped table were empty. So as lavish as these one-person sofas were, Claymont reminded himself that he'd better be up for a big raise when the Christmas bonus is discussed among the Umbrella fatcats.

"Where the hell are they?!", Claymont hissed with anger, not caring which seated executive he was addressing.

"One of them is right here, dearest Claymont", the female voice sounded from the only entrance and exit to the large room, prompting the overseer of the Spencer Estate and his six colleagues to turn towards it.

Elena Warren was a predator, no doubt. One of the very few women to make it high into Umbrella Inc's more prestigious positions. She was someone who would not take being crossed, and on those rare instances where she had been, she was known to patiently wait her time and make sure that the result was several bodies being involved in so-called accidents. Her poise was especially strong after she had arranged her husband Michael to take over as mayor of Raccoon City, basically giving the company a puppet government it could control. Her husband was under her jurisdiction 24/7, of course, and that's what made him such an efficient head of the puppet regime that Umbrella wanted to use in its effort to manage every aspect of Raccoon City. The president of White Umbrella had been very grateful for the city's mayor who was charismatic enough to have the Raccoon citizenry believe in him, and also weak-willed enough to be pushed around by his wife and her employers. So Elena's power, as well as danger rating, increased. The fact that she was mandated to be at the meeting while the presence of her husband, the mayor of Raccoon City, was not said a lot about the status that Mrs. Warren held.

At least she was attending this meeting, Claymont thought to himself. And it still didn't make for a full crowd as the most notable absentees from the expected group were chief of Police Brian Irons and chief undercover operative, as well as deputy chief researcher, Albert Wesker.

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"I'm glad you decided to bless us with your presence, chief", Warren gave a heartless smile as Brian Irons fidgeted in his large chair, not having settled down yet as the meeting had started a few minutes before he finally appeared through the conference room door.

Chief researcher Wesker's eyes rolled upwards behind the shades in frustration at the waste of time since he had been seated at the table for at least two minutes without anything having been contributed towards the conference.

"Yes, I'm sure we are all anxious to hear _why_ the evidence in the basement is still there, as well as the location of our cleaning crew", Claymont added, addressing the chief of police even before that individual had a chance to open the folder he had brought with him.

Irons said nothing at first, opting to quickly try to withdraw the pictures and file reports that described the troublesome topic of this meeting.

"You remember our extraction/eradication team that was sent to take care of the problem, right, chief?", Claymont continued when he didn't get a response, "Six cleaners that went into your basement and vanished without a trace instead of accomplishing their objective and thus leaving the girl in your cell?". 

"Well, um, I… The blame on this shouldn't fall on me", Irons finally spoke up, "It wasn't my unit that was sent in. Who's idea was it to send in unarmed what the hell those things were that you used?".

"Suggestions as far as what to do here, people?", Claymont spoke to everyone there instead of mentioning towards a particular person who was in attendance, "We can point fingers till tomorrow, that still won't solve this problem that has the potential to become a PR nightmare for us".

"If you guys with all your freaky experiment shit were more careful, then this wouldn't have happened!", Irons obviously didn't follow the vice-president's advice as he got louder with his own accusations, "You're the ones who have this freak show running around and expect me to clean up after the mess you made with the incompetent idiots who made sure are surrounding me when I'm at work".

Claymont sighed in a mixture of exhaustion and frustration as he leaned forward in his chair and placed his own left hand over his forehead. His optimism for a quick meeting that yielded results because everyone cooperated wasn't appearing to have been realistic.

"And do you have ANY idea what kind of bungling morons you have me set up with? If you had paid any attention to your hiring practices, these dolts wouldn't have been such an embarrassment in Raccoon Forest to begin with", the chief's rant wasn't over.

"Why is it that I don't remember working on this particular experiment? Can anyone tell me why that is?", William Birkin sarcastically made his thoughts known for the first time since the conference had begun as he leaned back in his own chair and crossed his arms with a look on his face that was almost accusatory, "I should remember something that was _that_ close to being human, and the fact that only one person out of ten million can be a tyrant, and the tyrant's resemblance to a human is vague at best. A creature that is that close to resembling a human would not be something…".

He trailed off for a moment, not saying anything as he tried to choose his words.

"It just wouldn't be possible", he finally slammed his right fist into the surface of the table in front of him, "This isn't something I worked on. So where the hell did it come from?".

"If you _men_ are having such a hard time with this character, and that includes you too, Warren", Wesker nearly looked happy as he glanced towards the mayor's wife while making his statement, "Then I'll be happy to go to that holding cell and extract her myself, but that means she's mine, and all privileges concerning access to her testing belong to me".

He was too busy eyeing Birkin to see how angered his fellow scientist would be at his demands to notice how calm Elena Warren appeared after hearing the insult when he had expected her to be irritated. Instead, William Birkin was pressing his teeth together as he returned the umbrella operative's glance, but he looked away after a few seconds as he couldn't afford to ignore everyone else at the table for long. He was still obsessing about someone being able to function as a person while maintaining the strength and instinct of a tyrant, just as Wesker knew that he would.

"I don't think that's a good idea, no way", Birkin shook his head as his glance oscillated from Claymont to the other executives there, "I'm head researcher here, and I can afford to spend all my time here on my work, as opposed to _some_ people".

His eyes rested on Wesker as he finished making that statement.

"And how do you expect to get her out of the jail cell?", his shaded antagonist held both his hands in front of his chest, all five fingers on the left and the index finger on the right being held up, "Considering what happened to six, count them, that's six cleaners, what do you think the odds are of you rushing into that cell and overpowering this creature? Unless you want me to be there so I can then videotape your attempt and sell it as snuff?".

"People, we're not making any progress here", Claymont interjected, wishing he was anywhere else again.

"I'm sure the footage of you screaming to get out of that cage before she yanks you back inside will sell for quite a bit, though", Wesker did occasionally enjoy these meetings, he realized, as he ignored his superior.

"Annette and I will be able to synthesize something in the lab to sedate this creature", Birkin's irate face intentionally stayed away from the undercover police captain as he addressed the others in the room.

"Except you're all forgetting one crucial factor", Warren countered, "This creature is viewed as no more than a lost child, which can definitely be used to everyone's benefit without the necessity of trying to explain where she's disappeared to. Plus at the same time, the public relations nightmare that White Umbrella was dreading could end up working in their favor".

No one answered just yet, wanting her to explain whatever idea she obviously had.

"You know, I don't think that our Joanne is happy being an only child", she continued, pretending not to notice that Irons was suddenly paying closer attention since she mentioned her daughter's name.

"What the hell does one thing have to do with another? Are you even on the same topic as everyone else here?", Birkin snarled.

"William, when I want your opinion, I'll throw you a banana", the mayor's wife coldly replied, "My husband and I can take much better charge than either one of you two boys can with your little lab experiments".

"Our little experiments pay your wages, you fucking bitch!", Wesker's tone revealed how he felt as he leaned forward on the armrests and was almost out of his chair.

"Such hurtful insults, Albert. I thought I was one of the boys", Warren snickered back.

"Not as hurtful as this, you wanna match wits between your verbal arsenal and my literal one?", the RPD spy stood up as the Desert Eagle pistol was already in his right hand and was pointed at her head even though no one had seen him withdraw it, "Mine comes with a 50 caliber support. What's yours backed up by?".

"That's enough!", Claymont barked as he stood up and slammed both his palms on the tabletop, "We're achieving nothing here and that creature is still out there ready to jeopardize our entire operation while you people bicker like little children! White Umbrella wants a solution now, so I want a show of hands from everyone about the ideas that you just heard".

Wesker holstered his weapon as reminded himself to make plans to take care of the mayor's wife later on.

"Who votes to allow William and Annette Birkin to be in charge of the subject?", Claymont asked first.

Birkin and one of the seated executives raised their hand.

"That's two votes for Birkin", the vice president announced what he saw, "Who votes to allow Albert Wesker to do the same?".

Wesker's hand was the only one to be casually raised as he sat back down. The RPD spy looked around the room as everyone else was staring back at him, but not a single other person supported his idea. He added an amendment to his mental note to take care of everyone else in the room after he was done with Elena Warren.

"That's one vote for Wesker", Claymont pointed out, "Then who votes to allow Mrs. Warren to make plans for this situation?".

The mayor's wife raised her hand, as did two Umbrella executives and police chief Irons, while Claymont himself opted to not vote at this time.

"That's four votes for Mrs. Warren", the final count was announced before Claymont sat back down and addressed her, "You have the floor".

"Well gentlemen…", Warren began sharing her idea. 

"I have to go do something useful now", operative Wesker interrupted her as he stood up, "Like count the thumb tacks on my desk at work".

Without saying anything else, the shaded officer turned and began walking towards the door. One of the executives who had voted to follow Elena Warren's idea started to rise out of his own chair to protest the officer's exit, but a wave of Claymont's hand indicated to him that he'd be wasting his time. So the senior manager sat back down instead without saying a word. It was only after Wesker had already left the conference room and the door automatically closed behind him that the original executive angrily addressed the older vice president.

"He has NO place within our ranks if he insists on acting this way!", the man complained, pointing towards the closed exit door, "He's acting more and more like a spoiled child!".

"True, but he's probably going to be of more use to us wherever he's going now anyway", Claymont calmly informed him, "He won't serve us much purpose here, but he will in other places, trust me".

The older man smiled at everyone, feeling happier since the room had returned to a calmer state.

"Now Mrs. Warren, I _do_ believe you had something to share with us", he continued.

++++++++++++++++++++

"You made the news big time, Shak", was the first statement the inmate heard as she was lying on her back on the wooden bench and the sun was peaking through the small window of the basement.

This being the second morning she had woken up within the holding cell, she felt better at hearing another human voice, one that was different from her own. The fact that the new voice belonged to the only person within this building that she would consider to be a friend made the feeling all that better.

"I did? How the hell did that be happening?", she sat up from the bench and looked at the officer through the bars.

"Read it for yourself", Chino first approached the bars that separated them and then tossed a newspaper through the bars of the cell.

The paper, in turn, was gracefully caught by the prisoner inside.

"Does there be a cookie that goes with it per-chance?", she grinned as she looked from the newspaper to him, then back again.

"Abandoned Girl Found In Raccoon Forest. Family Massacred?", Shakahnna read the headline as it appeared at the top of the first page in bold letters.

The title of the article was enough to surprise her.

"Family massacred?", she repeated while she addressed the officer as she was afraid to hear the answer to her question, "Did… Did they find my family? Did… Did you know about this and not… not tell me?".

Her heart skipped a beat during the fraction of a second it took Chino to reply.

"God, Shak, no", he shook his head, "It's just a stupid article written by a media that's desperate for readers. We still don't know where your parents are".

"Oh geez, I've never been so relieved to find out that no one knows where they be!", the teenager exhaled loudly.

"I wouldn't have let you find out this way if they _had_ been found, you know", a disappointed Chino went on.

"Sorry", Shakahnna shook her head as she looked down at the bench she was seated on while apologizing, "Just seeing that… Ick…".

"I know, but the headline really doesn't reflect what's really going on. It's just media fabrication to attract more buyers", the officer continued as he reached for a metal chair and sat down a few feet away from the closed entrance to the jailcell, "So do feel free to read the rest of the garbage".

"Raccoon Forest gave bloom to a new type of flower. Reports from the RPD indicate that a child was found two days ago by a man and woman who had been in the vicinity of those woods at the time", the inmate continued reading after the bold-lettered title, "The couple who found the child, George and Catherine Rune, have spoken exclusively to the Raccoon City Press. 'She was such a beautiful child, I can't believe anyone would abandon such a sweet girl. What kind of parents would abandon this gorgeous angel? We'd never do that to her if we were her parents' – and so the Runes were quoted as saying about the young girl, whose name and age still haven't been released. Included is an exclusive photo of the mysterious girl that was provided by a source at the RPD itself. If anyone in Raccoon City recognizes her, you are asked to contact officer Stephen Chisholm at (413) 560-4430 who is in charge of the investigation concerning the juvenile. Our sources also say the child's parents are still missing and, even though none of their bodies have been found, the injuries that the juvenile had sustained indicate that her parents may have run into foul play".

"Wow…", Shakahnna finally stopped reading and looked up from the newspaper, looking quite shocked, "Pretty different to what is being said around the station, huh? I bet this article be'd ruffling a few feathers up around here. Just picture your partner reading while he be's reading this!"

A devilish smile graced the girl's lips as she crumpled the newspaper with both hands and pretended to be angry as she threw it on the floor.

"What the fuck is this piece of shit?", she gave a mock impression of Donnelly, "I can't believe this bullshit tabloids! First they say that politicians are corrupt and now this!".

"Actually, that's not how I reacted", the actual Eric Donnelly entered the basement through the doorway and surprised both his field partner and the inmate.

Chino grinned as he turned his face back and forth between the cell and the basement door behind him. He also tried hard to suppress the laughter that was creeping in his mind due to Shakahnna's impression of Donnelly, and mostly succeeded.

"Don't you two have anything better to talk about than the false image of how I act?", Donnelly added as he approached the younger officer.

"Actually, I was there when you got the paper this morning, Eric", officer Branagh emerged from the entrance door to the basement also, "And it _was_ a pretty accurate portrayal of you".

The inmate raised both eyebrows in response and smiled smugly without saying anything, as the third officer in the large room confirmed what she had claimed.

"I don't have time for this caper", Donnelly made an almost unsuccessful attempt to not be aggravated, "I wanted to ask you if you wanted a ride home or not".

He pointed at officer Chisolm as he spoke. 

"Donnelly, it's OK", Shakahnna calmly advised, "You don't have to make up excuses. I know you're just here to see me".

Her efforts to keep a straight face fell apart during the last few words of the statement and she giggled to herself.

"I'm warning you, bitch. You're pushing it", the irritated officer addressed her again before returning the glance to his partner, "So which is it, Steve?".

Chino went from glancing at Donnelly, who was several feet behind him, to the inmate, who was a bit closer in front of him, all while trying to make up his mind in the few seconds that were afforded to him. After a full day at work, he had originally been tempted to go home and head straight to bed. But the teenager returned his glimpse by widening her eyes and lightly shaking her head a few times, thus prompting him to have an instantaneous change of plans for the night. So the young officer turned back around and addressed his older partner.

"It's all right, Eric, thanks", he informed him, "I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning?".

"No problem, then stay out of trouble, and other people", Donnelly stated before he shot a glance at the inmate and headed out of the basement.

He didn't see the middle finger of both hands being raised as Shakahnna kept the other eight fingers curled and pointed her arms towards his back, all the while showing a sarcastic double row of teeth as she smiled.

"Regardless of Eric's zeal, I _do_ have some good news for the both of you, I think", officer Branagh spoke up first even as the door was slowly closing after having let Donnelly exit through it.

"Zeal, you called it? Only if that just be's a polite way of saying he wants me dead or at least in mass amounts of pain", the teenager kept smiling as she seemed more relaxed now that she knew Chino wasn't leaving, only it was a genuine smile this time as opposed to a sarcastic one.

"What's the news?", Chino partly twisted his body around to be able to see his colleague as he was finding out for the first time also.

"Orders from Chief Irons", Branagh informed them simultaneously, "The suspect stays in our holding cell till she's transported to court tomorrow morning at 8".

"Oh damn, that's great. I thought it'd be a typical transport route via the county…", Chino exclaimed.

"OI! What be's going here, does there be something I should know?", the teenager interrupted, disliking the fact that two other people were discussing her future and she had no idea what was being said.

"It means that you get to stay here while waiting to go in front of the magistrate tomorrow morning", Branagh gave her more details as he began placing coins inside a vending machine that was on the other side of the large basement.

"Yeah, and it also means that we get to take you to court tomorrow instead of you being at the county jail tonight and being transported there by the Sheriff's officers", Chino turned back towards her jailcell as Branagh then withdrew a candy bar from the same machine, "And since I _am_ officially the cop who's in charge, chances are that the sarge will have me and Eric take you there ourselves. That's an important hearing since the judge will decide how much bail is".

"Aren't you forgetting something, Stephen?", officer Branagh approached his colleague as he began eating the snack.

"What's that?", the younger man kept switching glances between the inmate and the only other officer in the basement.

"Bail requires proof of residency, either hers or that of someone who's willing to put her up at home", Branagh bit half the candy bar off with one mouthful, "And you know that has to be with a picture ID, Steve. Your friend here doesn't even know what her last name is, much less having a picture ID or someone who can show an ID before asking to pay her bail".

"Oh shit!", Chino brought his head down to meet the hands that were coming up to hold his face, "Marvin's right. Which judge is gonna give bail to someone who only uses one name?".

"OK, and again, guys? Clarify for me?", Shakahnna took a hold of one of the bars.

"You can't prove who you are, Shak", Chino lifted his face back up to look into her eyes through the holding cell, "Without that, you may never get the chance to get out of here while waiting for your ultimate day in court. That could take weeks, or even months".

"Oh no! That would be just awful!", the teenager appeared distressed for a few seconds, "That means I can't leave here and go to… Oh wait".

The smile returned to her face as she finished the last two words.

"That's really not a big deal, especially if you're able to keep me here! You are the only people that I know", she continued, " So I mean… Well basically, I don't wanna leave you guys. You know well obviously, but even this jail place sounds like it's better than waking up in the woods, alone, sore and half naked right?".

"Well, you're right that no place in the world is safer than right here", Branagh finished his candy bar, "The number of cops and guns that are sitting in this building make it safe from anything shy of a nuclear blast".

Chino didn't see the teenager staring at the older man's midsection, but Branagh definitely did.

"Are you staring at the gun?", the older man asked as he looked down at the firearm which was strapped to his own belt holster.

"We have those and much bigger ones everywhere here, Shak", Chino added, "Nobody's doing anything to anybody as long as we're around and we're armed to back up what we stand for".

"Actually… I was kinda looking at the candy bar. Can I acquire one?", the inmate replied with a grin.

It had definitely been a nicer day.

+++++++++++++++++++

The apartment had been bland for someone his age, and that was mainly because he had only moved there right after he had graduated from the police academy, and that was a mere six months ago. The fact that Steve Chisolm couldn't sleep only made looking at the featureless walls more annoying. 

He had been tired after finishing the usual eight hours of work, and even though no overtime had been required for today, he still had found himself not being able to come home right away. Instead, he ended up spending two more hours talking to the teenaged inmate before she finally appeared to be tired enough to get some rest. It was only then that he left RPD headquarters and walked the two miles of distance that was between his job and home.

The young officer also had a long day scheduled as soon as the sun rose, both physically as an official member of the RPD and also emotionally, as he wasn't sure how difficult it'd be to escort Shakahnna to court. He expected to have a difficult day because, if she got upset, then he wanted to be able to give her a hug or squeeze her shoulders, or even just tell her that everything would be alright. But of course he couldn't do that because his job would not allow it, not to mention that his partner would take adversely to such actions on his part. Thus it made sense to get as much rest as possible now that he had the chance to do so and it was pitch black and extremely quiet outside. 

But instead, he was lying on his back and on the bed, with his eyes wide open and wondering why the hell he couldn't fall asleep while the number of hours left for respite dwindled.

The last few days have been unusual, to say the least. Knowing this teenager had brought him all the attention that he could handle, most of it bad. After having spent half a year as an officer in this mid-sized city, he still hadn't managed to shake the nickname of rookie by those few individuals who actually knew who he was. In contrast, his interaction with Shakahnna brought notice from people who had never interacted with him before, but not the kind of notice that he had hoped for ever since graduating from the academy. In fact, he couldn't think of anyone other than Donnelly who didn't chastise him for the quick relationship he had developed with the teenager. The irony that his partner seemed to dislike her the most wasn't lost on the young man either.

The friendship with her created a conflict in his own mind because, despite him thinking that he was quite open-minded, striking up a rapport with someone who had beat most his RPD team senseless was beyond the limits of what he considered to be acceptable. But damn, whether she was an inmate or not, and despite his partner's opinion of such people, he really clicked with this girl, and he was alienated from most of the staff in his work environment. He always thought that would be the one place where he'd connect with people, but after six months on the job, it just hadn't happened, and this type of connection wasn't what he had in mind when he applied to become a police officer.

It was so frustrating to find a bond with someone in shackles and knowing that the only person he could easily talk to was one who lived in a holding cell now and was looking at a possible prison sentence later on. Of course she could always visit Shakahnna at whatever correctional facility she had been sent to, whether it was a state one or especially a county one, but why didn't he have the ability to make friends with people who weren't criminals? 

To make things more complicated, he wasn't even sure if he was concerned about the girl's well-being because he cared about her or because she was always there for him to talk to whenever he felt alone. The latter reason was one that he feared might be a possibility. He didn't want to consider the likelihood that he was only lying to himself and pretending to care about her, of course, but it was a thought that always lingered in the back of his mind. The young man really hoped it was just his paranoia at work.

On top of those concerns, he also didn't want her to leave from her current residence within his RPD building. It'd be an understatement to say that her presence there increased his desire to go to work as well as his willingness to stay there after his shift was over. And he was realistic enough to realize that the teenager couldn't say in that basement holding cell forever, seeing as to how he had been lucky that Chief Irons didn't have her transported to the local jail facility already. But the officer was worried about how she would cope once she was sentenced to a prison term that could easily run into years. No doubt that the girl was tough as nails, but she had never been in a prison setting before, and Chino had no way of knowing how long it would take her to adapt to those new rules and surroundings.

Thus, worrying about her and as well as his own feelings was making it impossible for him to sleep during this dark and peaceful night, even as a gentle breeze made it way through the open window. But he had to doze, as being tired once the sun rose wouldn't make him feel any better or allow him to perform as well as he had to, even if it was as far as his duties for the RPD were concerned. So, the young man turned his body on its own right side as he pulled the blanket over his shoulders and forced his eyes shut in a desperate effort to slip into unconsciousness. 

The attempt lasted approximately ten seconds before his eyes popped wide open and he returned to staring at his shadowy room. He could no longer remain lying down on his bed, much less hoping to fall asleep, as new thoughts were entering his mind at a brainstorming rate. So Chino sat up on his bed as he lightly pushed the blanket off his upper body.

"What if I bail her out tomorrow?", he whispered to himself while thinking out loud.

Ideas raced through his head. He obviously had valid identification proving who he was and where he resided. The two biggest questions to ask was if he could come up with the funds needed for bail and how much worse the relationship with his colleagues at work would become as a result of asking Shakahnna to stay in his home. 

He had to admit that, at least for the current moment, the financial obstacle was more worrying than how he was perceived by his fellow officers. The officer did some quick mental math in his head. He still had most of the money that had been given to him by loved ones and relatives as part of his graduation ceremony from the police academy. Plus, aside from playing his guitar, he didn't have any hobbies to spend money on. So except for rent, food and utility bills, Chino had just put whatever salary he was paid into a bank account without paying much attention to it. He was suddenly eager to find out just how big his bank account was. For starters, he was glad that, while his earnings from the RPD weren't great, they were still good enough for someone who was living alone and did not have exceptional bills.

"It was just under $4,100", he remembered the amount of money that was saved in his personal account after his latest paycheck.

Shakahnna hadn't killed or seriously hurt anyone, after all, and despite Donnelly's beliefs, the lab report that diagnosed her blood sample as policy had informed him that there were no drugs found in her system. And he knew that his bank would allow him to have instant access to his money if he asked to withdraw it all at once.

All he could do now was wait till court after the sun rose and hope that the bail imposed was low enough for him to afford it. Seeing as to how he had a plan, he might've even had the chance to get some sleep at the present time.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Shakahnna had been ready for this morning ever since having been left alone the previous night as she felt relaxed since the waiting was going to be the easy part. There wouldn't be any physical confrontations and exchanged blows, so it shouldn't have been as bad as her initial encounter with the law. Plus, being told that she was getting to stay here till having this case resolved had made her feel optimistic for the first time since her remembering anything at Raccoon Forest. 

What she was experiencing at the current time must've been a gift from officer Chisolm because she was seated on the cell bench with her arms rested on either side of her torso. She was also casually looking past the empty food dish and used bottle of water that sat on the floor, and out through the bars. While her body was merely relaxed, her facial expression held a joyous look on it. The teenager's lips was curled in a wide smile that seemed to almost stretch from ear to ear as she watched the only officer in the basement with her as that individual stood at the far end of the underground room.

Officer Donnelly was annoyed as he remained on his feet at the basement entrance, making sure his body was blocking the doorway and keeping the door itself from closing. He wanted to ensure that, even though his duties required him to keep watch of the prisoner before she was transported out of the holding cell, he also got as little interaction as possible with the captive he viewed as nothing more than a bitch. So he sighed for what felt like was the millionth time as he kept looking up at the staircase and desperately hoping to hear his partner's footsteps.

"Hey Donnelly, why don't you leave that door at peace so it can be closed?", she asked as she finally stood up, still enjoying the scenario a bit too much, "Is it because you can't trust yourself when you be alone with me and no one else is watching?".

"Shut the hell up", the officer remained attentive towards the staircase that was behind him.

The girl repeated the act she had done two days earlier by picking the lock of the cell room before slightly pushing the doorway open and picking up the empty plastic food dish that was by her feet.

"You kinda forgetted to lock the door", she then called out as she sat back down.

"I said shut up!", Donnelly turned his face around to look in her direction as he replied.

It was only then that he noticed the entrance to the holding cell was ajar.

"Oh, fuck, how the hell did that happen?", he hurried away from the basement doorway as he unsuccessfully tried to keep the surprise from appearing on his face.

"How could you have been so careless?", the inmate grinned as she saw him approaching the bars that separated her from the rest of the basement.

"Get the hell to the end of the cell, now!", the officer ordered as he kept his right hand over his belt holster.

Shakahnna didn't move, remaining within an arm's distance of the bars themselves.

"DO IT!", he barked as he pointed towards the back of the holding cell with his left index finger and withdrew his firearm with the right hand, though opting to keep his right arm by the side of his body without pointing the weapon at her.

"But Donnelly, I thought you weren't afraid of me", the inmate teased as she slowly walked backwards until she could feel the bars on the other side of the holding cell behind her.

"Now do you want me to put my hands up?", she raised her arms in mock surrender while her elbows were bent.

The officer said nothing as he pushed the metal door back shut and then used his left hand to test it in order to make sure it wasn't still open.

"What the hell's going on here?", Chino's voice sounded from behind Donnelly's back, prompting the first man to turn around and the teenager to look towards the staircase.

For the first time since she had seen him, officer Chisolm looked infuriated as his angry eyes were locked with his own partner's.

"Sunshine, are you OK?", she spoke up first, breaking the uncomfortable silence and trying to make eye contact with Chino in an effort to distract him from the standoff with his colleague.

"Why is the damn gun out, Eric?", the rookie didn't answer her, approaching the older man as he pointed at Donnelly's weapon.

"Relax, dude, it's just standard procedure", Donnelly pointed his left palm towards his accuser as he also holstered the weapon with the other hand, "The freaking _door_ to the cell was open. Guns drawn as long as the suspects are not shackled or behind locked doors".

"Cell door was opened?", Chino repeated as he stopped walking forward.

Recollections of Shakahnna's trick from two days ago where she opened the locked cell door without given an explanation entered his mind. So Chino's demeanor relaxed when he realized that his partner hadn't been threatening her but was instead only following the rules in reaction to a prank on her part.

"I can't believe that happened", the younger man lied as he grinned, returning to the friendlier attitude he usually had towards his more experienced associate.

"Uh, guys, can I put my hands down now?", Shakahnna added her bit to the conversation.

"Of course you can", the less experienced officer told her as Donnelly groaned at the friendly tone of voice he used to address her.

Turning back around, officer Donnelly unlocked the entrance to the holding cell as officer Chisolm walked next to him and, in the process, came very close the bars. That gave Shakahnna a reason to walk to the front of cell.

"Thank you for being my friend", the redhead said before standing up on her tiptoes and lightly kissing the young man's cheek, "Everyone should get their own little Chino cause then I know they'd wouldn't be so miserable". 

"Don't you ever get tired of sucking up to the rank and file?", Chino's partner whispered more to himself than anyone else, "You could at least try to suck up to someone who has power". 

"Now Donnelly, play nice, else I'll have to tell on you", Shak stuck her tongue out as she shifted a step aside and came within an arm's reach of her antagonist. 

She pretended to be licking the irritated officer while making sure to not bring her tongue into contact with his skin.

"Chino!", Donnelly growled as he pulled away, instructing his partner to control the suspect's behavior. 

The man's face was red, almost as if he might burst or have a heart attack, as seemed to be happening a lot whenever he was around Shakahnna. But once the jailcell was unlocked, Donnelly brought his attention back on the job at hand only and seemed to forget about the previous annoyance as he pulled the door halfway open before withdrawing a pair of handcuffs from his backpocket.

"Are those for me? Do you have to?", Shakahnna asked, not making the expected joke of Donnelly with handcuffs, "What if there are monsters?".

"There _are_ no monsters", that one's annoyed response was given as he gave instructions while entering the cell himself, "Your hands".

The teenager twisted her lips in a teasing pout as she extended both wrists ahead of her torso and left them vertical to the floor and about six inches apart. So the RPD official first flipped and then clicked the top half of the handcuffs around her left wrist before guiding the left arm behind her lower back. 

Officer Chisolm saw the color momentarily draining from her features as her facial expression changed from one that was laid back to one that was scared. Donnelly hadn't noticed the change in attitude as he was concentrating on bringing her right arm behind her also in the process of securing both wrists together at her back. But while he did so, the girl was trying hard to not give in to her instinct to grab a hold of the older officer's arm and flip him over her shoulder before he crashed against the floor ahead of them both. Doing so would only worsen whatever situation she was in, of course, as well as place Chino against a figurative wall because he'd have to try to restrain her. So she swallowed a lump in her throat and attempted to ignore the bile that was threatening to rise as she continued remaining still. 

The entire process had taken Donnelly about three seconds to complete from start to finish, but the girl felt like it had lasted eons. It was also long enough for Chino to see that something was suddenly seriously wrong with how she was acting.

"This way", officer Donnelly signaled towards the entrance to the cell as he kept one hand on the chain between the handcuffs and the other on her left upper arm.

Being behind her, he still didn't see anything that was different about her manner as he followed her outside the jailcell. 

"What's wrong? Are you OK?", Chino asked once both the inmate and officer were just outside the entrance but still within the large basement.

The teenager said nothing, only opting to nod as she looked dejected and kept her shoulders hunched inward.

"But what's wrong?", he repeated as he closed the door to the cell.

"Come on, dude, sooner we get to court, the sooner she'll be heard and we don't need to do this any more", Donnelly informed him, still oblivious to what he was talking about.

----------------------------------------

The temperature outside was pleasant for this time of year, as evidenced by the fact that half the pedestrians on the street or sidewalk still wore a spring or autumn jacket over their clothes. So instead of roasting while in a patrol car during the summertime and needed to us the air conditioner, Donnelly was fine with simply keeping the front driver's side window half open while his partner did the same in the front passenger seat. In the back seat was Shakahnna, her knees bent upwards and heels balancing on the edge, head almost atop the knees. There was a steel grate separating her from the two men in the front seats. It wasn't possible to open either of the back windows, but the breeze that emanated from the two front open windows could easily pass through the grate to make her arrangements comfortable also. Besides, her arms were free since the handcuffs were thankfully removed during the ride to court, and she was glad for it even if she didn't know why she reacted so intensely earlier on in the basement. All she knew was that the thought of being restrained literally made her sick to the stomach. So instead of concentrating on how she would behave or what she should say in court, she was now dreading having to put up with being handcuffed again once her appearance in front of a judge was over.

She hated being distracted from her primary thoughts, especially when she was planning for something as important as a hearing that would eventually decide her fate. Obviously, whichever judge was in charge would get to decide if she went to prison and for how long, so the teenager knew that she had to make a good impression for that person. After all, not being incarcerated would mean a chance to try to investigate who she is and where her parents are, as well as find out if she can make friends with people like officer Chisholm. It was intriguing to think of the idea of spending time with him when no bars were between them.

All of a sudden, Shakahnna chastised herself for getting sidetracked from her original ponderings. Here she was planning a future for herself when her present was being spent inside holding cells and not being allowed to go anywhere without armed escorts or especially with those damn handcuffs restraining her ability to move. She wasn't sure if it was the inability to fight back if a dangerous situation arose while she was handcuffed or if it wasn't some other, unknown reason, but she knew that she hated those restraining mechanisms for than anything else she could think of. And to make it worse, Chino had informed her that court cases are typically continued for weeks or even months, which probably meant several more trips to and from the court building. Those journeys back and forth would've been fine, especially if she was staying within the RPD basement, except for her having to be placed within those appalling handcuffs while being moved to a car and then out of one upon reaching the destination.

Granted she couldn't remember anything before surfacing at Raccoon Forest, and thus her life as she knew it was only a few days old, but the teenager saw people outside for the first time ever. Some were socializing under the sunny sky, others were alone, but most were hurrying from one place to another, most likely either work or school. She felt wistful that she didn't have the same freedom that they did, which they most likely took for granted. 

So why did she have to risk vomiting every time she was being transported from one place to another, all because she woke up in the woods and instinctively defended herself when a group of total strangers attacked her? Guess it just was how things were and at least there was someone who didn't think she was scum.

"How are you holding up back there?", Chino's voice brought her out of the trance as she saw him looking at her through the rearview mirror.

"Could be better, could be worse", she looked back at him, their eyes locking in the mirror itself.

"We're only a couple of blocks away from City Hall", the officer in the front passenger seat continued, glad that she at least looked better than she did a few minutes ago in the basement, "That's where the courtrooms are. We'll be in the east wing of the building because it's where the criminal cases are held, and that's us. So what will happen is…".

The suspect raised her right palm, pointing it at him to interrupt what he was saying.

"Since the docket is most likely full, you and Donnelly will have to check in to let the court officer know that you've arrived and I'm here, so he'll know that he can call my case to have us seen by the judge when my number comes up, as opposed to having to give my case another date if there was something wrong like me not having been brought in today", she added.

"Yeah, did Branagh tell you all that?", Chino was surprised.

"Nu uh", she shook her head, "Branagh had left long before you yesterday".

"Then how do you know all that, Shak?, the younger officer asked as Donnelly quietly kept his eyes ahead in the fairly busy road.

"Dunno", she had to admit, "Stuff's been, not like memories, but stuff keeps coming to me".

She looked behind her at the back of the rear passenger seat.

"Like this car, for example", she turned back to face the front of the vehicle and the two men, "It's a Ford, named after Henry Ford, someone who's rather well-known in the history books as being the father of the revolutionary assembly techniques that created modern-day cars, and whose name is also heard in commercials even today. But what they neglect to mention is that he was an avid supporter of that delightful soul Adolph Hitler. In fact, a percentage of the money he earned went to Nazi Germany as he wanted Adolph to use it to fund his 'chambers of joy'. It's also the brand of car where its manufacturers came up with the Pinto vehicle which was found to explode on contact from behind, but the merry men who were building it decided it'd be cheaper to let people die in deathtraps and pay them off in civil suits than it'd be to recall all the cars and have them fixed".

Neither man said anything at first as both Chino and even Donnelly looked into the rearview mirror to momentarily stare at her.

"What?", she asked.

"How do you know any of that?", Donnelly spoke up for the first time since getting behind the wheel.

"Maybe I have full semantic memory but no episodic memory", she stated.

"What the fuck are you talking about?", the older man added.

"Episodic memories are what make you who you are", the teenager explained, "It's memories from your tenth birthday party, it's the ones that make you not like me because of what happened in the woods. And I don't know how I know that either. Semantic memory is how someone can know stuff about Ford, it's worldly facts and general knowledge. Or I could have some type of disassociative disorder".

"Shak, I didn't know you remembered so much", Chino turned around to look straight at her instead of using the mirror as a go-between. 

"Me neither, it just keeps flooding my head with these facts", she went on, rubbing her forehead with a right hand, "Maybe if I got a bump in the head that caused this, it would take a few days for my semantic memory to return. Too bad the episodic memory isn't the same way".

"It doesn't matter anyway", Donnelly addressed his partner, surprising that one about why he interrupted the current conversation, "That's city hall just ahead".

The teenager felt her throat tighten, and she didn't even know why. Was it because she was nervous about what might generally happen in court, or because it would probably mean having to be led out of the car in those damn handcuffs again? Probably the latter.

"The cuffs again?", she sighed as she looked at Chino in the rearview mirror as Donnelly was parking the patrol car in a separate parking area which was designed for employees only.

"I'm afraid so, Shak", the young man replied, "I'll do it once we go out to make sure they're not too tight, OK? It's just not something we can get out of doing".

His comment received a disapproving look from his partner as that one was placing the vehicle in the parking position. Donnelly didn't like having his younger colleague insinuate that he was intentionally placing the handcuffs in an uncomfortable way.

"Let's go, dude", the older man undid his seat belt before opening the front driver's door.

"Eric, why don't you go first into East Wing and I'll secure and bring her after you?", Chino asked as he was the second person to exit the vehicle since the suspect couldn't use either of the backdoors to get out on her own.

"Dude, you can do whatever you want, _as far as procedure goes_", Donnelly, stopped and pointed towards his colleague with a right index finger, "You better put those cuffs on. You _know_ what will happen to us both if we don't follow procedure and then something happens with her. Don't think having you put the chains on is gonna make them any more comfortable than me doing it".

"OK, I will, I promise, no diverting from the rules", the young man ensured him.

"I'm counting on you", Donnelly stated as he turned away from the car and headed inside to be one of the dozens of people who are trying to inform the court staff of their presence.

As he was leaving, officer Chisholm opened the right rear car door from outside.

"Thanks", she said as she climbed out of the backseat before she was standing on the concrete ground, "I promise to well try and be good with Donnelly from now on. As much fun as it be's to play with him, it's not doing you any favors, is it?".

"No, I suppose it doesn't. And I'm sure he would appreciate it also", he replied with a sigh as he withdrew a pair of handcuffs from his own uniform, "So tell me, are these what had you looking so spooked earlier today?".

"Uhuh", she nodded innocently, confirming his suspicions even if the change in her facial expression hadn't changed to a sadder one as soon as she saw the metallic device, "I don't wanna wear'em".

"I'm sorry, I wish we had a say in the matter".

"I know, I know", she sighed as she placed her chin down against her torso and offered two closed hands, "Suppose I better get used to it".

She tried to smile and failed as she was holding her breath and hoping it'd be over sooner rather than later.

----------------------------------------

"There he is now", officer Chisholm verbally pointed towards his partner as he wasn't the only government official to be escorting restrained individuals. Some of those defendants were in civilian clothes with only a pair of handcuffs to distinguish their status as suspects while others were dressed in orange state prison uniforms and had their feet in leg shackles also.

"So what's up?", Chino asked as he kept his left hand on the Shakahnna's right upper arm and Donnelly approached them through the fairly large crowd.

"We're in room 608", the older man informed him, "And that damn place is overcrowded as hell, has to be at least 50 people there, standing room only".

"I take it you already told them that we're ready?", Chino wondered.

"Of course. And we're only number seven in the docket, so as soon as the judge comes out, we'll be called pretty quick", the more experienced man added.

"Well, how long till he _does_ appear?", the redhead asked, trying to not appear as agitated as she felt considering the state she was in and the large number of people who were around her.

Donnelly just laughed in reply as she didn't hear the man behind her saying anything.

"Shak, these guys could come out in five minutes or in another two hours, nobody knows", the younger man finally explained.

"Wonderful", she sighed in sarcasm, "So we keep trying to make friends here till then?".

She spotted a blonde-haired woman who was most likely an attorney since she wasn't in restraints, and she was also dressed in a business suit, so the teenager guessed that she wasn't a government official either. She almost blurted out that she wanted to try to hook Donnelly up for a date with that lawyer in an effort to give him a hobby, but then stopped without saying anything as soon as she had opened her mouth.

"Just relax", Donnelly advised.

Too bad she was trying to be nice for Chino's sake, because she was tempted to question if that was the initial statement given by him before he was going to ask her to take her clothes off next.

"What about the waiting room on the sixth floor where defendants can be if they need to talk to the PD?", Chino asked next.

"What about it?", Donnelly responded with a question of his own.

"We could wait there, no?".

"I suppose, but why would we?".

The lack of answer from the less experienced man told Donnelly all he needed to know.

"What exactly do you expect to accomplish over there that you can't do here, besides taking her cuffs off, that is?", his accusing tone of voice demanded.

"Look, she's not feeling good! Take a look at her face for god's sake, Eric", Chino countered from behind the teenager.

Both men were talking about her from within an arm's reach of each other, all without asking for her input, even while she was standing in between them. But after a brief staring contest against his partner, Donnelly did as he was asked and actually looked at her face to see how much more pale it was since being in the patrol car. The usually rosy cheeks were now puffy and the color of dull gray.

"Now boys, please _do_ behave", she joked even though her head was partly down, "Else I'll have to bang your heads together. And you don't need to pretend to be human for me Donnelly. I'd slit my wrists rather than owe you anything".

"Why don't you ever shut the hell up?", was the only answer she received from her antagonist.

"Sorry, Chino, I tried", she genuinely apologized, "But it's just doesn't be when he's being a dick".

"You tried what?!", Donnelly barked back, not paying attention to the fact that bile rose in her throat and she began trying to suppress it.

"But if it's all the same, a more quiet place _would_ be nicer", Shakahnna's upper body lurched forward, prompting Chino to hold her up by gripping her arm tighter.

"Eric, you saw how she was in the forest", the younger man was desperate to fast-forward through this argument and make the situation better, "If she wanted to bust out, she wouldn't have let either one of us bring her here, no? She could've probably jumped out of our car through the back windshield and then taken off on foot before we got here. She's not going anywhere now".

Donnelly's eyes scanned Shakahnna's ailing face first, then went to his partner second, then returned to the teenager again.

"Fine, let's go", he finally sighed.

----------------------------------------

The public defender's interview rooms were five in a row, and the last one was fortunately always empty as each conference between the PD's lawyer and a defendant lasted only a few minutes. It made more sense to repeatedly use the first three rooms as they were closer before returning to the courtroom where the judge was located.

It was lucky for Shakahnna that the privacy provided in this small area gave her the chance to not have those restraints on, as she was seated on one of the four chairs that was around a small, square table. She was facing the table itself, with her back to the only door to the interview area, as both officers were on their feet, with Donnelly right behind her and Chino across the table on the other end of the room. 

Both men had eventually arrived to the agreement that the handcuffs could stay off as long as she kept both hands on top of the table itself and didn't make any sudden moves. But still, she couldn't shake the feeling that Donnelly constantly had his hand on the holstered service pistol. Knowing that was still fine, as the color had returned to her face and the bile disappeared from her throat as soon as those wretched confinements were taken off.

"Did you have any questions while we're waiting?", Chino didn't take much time before asking as soon as everything indoors was quiet, prompting a bored sigh from the man behind her.

"Where's the public defender?", the suspect asked, "This is the public defender's interview room, right?".

"He told me he'd talk to you inside the courtroom before he and the DA address the judge", Donnelly informed them both.

"Cool, so we know. Anything else?", Chino asked.

"Sure, we have any cards?", the redhead answered.

"OK, then let me give you the answer to the question that you didn't ask", the friendlier of the two officers went on, "If the judge asks you if you have anything to say on your behalf, don't say that".

"Don't say what?", she continued.

"Something sarcastic, moron", Donnelly stated from behind her, "He's trying to help you out, lord knows why".

The inmate turned around in her seat, making sure to do so slowly enough to not risk an attack from the guard behind her, before she looked up at Donnelly.

"Who's being sarcastic? But genuinely… I had just thought that since we were going to be here for a while that it might make the time pass and have you stop thinking that I'm going to eat you or something. Whether you got your gun in your hand or not, wouldn't make a difference if I decided that I wanted you outta my way. Didn't stop me last time, did it? Am not going to cause any trouble, it would…", her voice dropped in volume, "It would get Chino in trouble".

"I know you're not bolting over here, Shak", Chino commented as he leaned forward and laid his hands on top of the table as the teenager turned back to look at him, "We just want you to be polite towards the judge as Jackson _does_ penalize defendants who he thinks are disrespecting him or the court".

"Well, maybe _he_ wants you to be polite in court. Don't include me with you, Steve", Donnelly followed through.

"You know, your maturity leaves me with only one answer, Donnelly", Shakahnna turned back around to temporarily face the older officer again.

She placed both thumbs on her temples, with the hands outstretched, before shaking the other eight fingers from both hands and sticking her tongue out at him. Her rival's face distorted to a mixture of surprise and inability to think of the proper response. Fortunately for Donnelly, he didn't have to come up with an answer because one of the court couriers opened the door from behind him and stuck his head through the entrance.

"You've been called next, guys. The judge is hearing case number five now, and case number six wasn't brought in from state", the man told all three of them before withdrawing his head back and closing the door behind him.

"Let's go, then?", Chino nodded as he locked eyes with Shakahnna's.

The girl, on the other hand, just crossed her arms in front of her chest and pulled at her own upper arms before standing up.

"We'll be using the side entrance to the courtroom when you're called", the officer continued as she slowly walked towards him with her arms still tightly crossed around herself and Donnelly followed her.

"No need to use the cuffs, right?", Chino addressed his partner.

Donnelly said nothing, only shaking his head, as they weren't far from courtroom 608. The teenager didn't see that because she was too busy telling herself that a few years in prison wouldn't be that big a deal. 

She just wasn't sure if she believed it.

----------------------------------------

"Case number seven, your honor", the court employee announced as he withdrew the summary of dates, places and charges that were typed on a sheet of paper and walked towards the judge's bench with it, "The people of Raccoon City versus Jane Doe. Defendant's in custody and on her way up from the basement".

"Aah, yes, I'm familiar with this case", district attorney Houssan commented to himself as he reached into his overstuffed attaché case to withdraw some notes from his office.

As he did that, Chino opened the door that led to the side of the courtroom and, as per the letter of the law, held it open for Shakahnna to walk through it as Donnelly followed her. She was pointed to the public defender's desk, which was the closest one to the side entrance, while the district attorney's desk was further away and they both faced the judge's counter. She sat down next to the man who was already seated on his own chair as she was anxious to hear if he had anything to ask her and did her best to ignore the dozens of eyes that were watching her from the audience benches behind them.

"Charges are six counts of aggravated assault, disorderly conduct, resisting arrest", the court employee continued as both Chino and Donnelly stood guard at the side entrance once the door was closed behind them.

"Thank you, Mr. Grieves", judge Jackson stated as he read over the summary that was in front of him, "Mr. Houssan?".

"Your honor, this case is especially hideous because the defendant is charged with disorderly conduct and, when the arrest was attempted, she assaulted many members of the RPD", the district attorney stood up as he began talking while the public defender and Shakahnna were whispering to each other, "The people request $200,000 in bail".

Both Shakahnna and Chino whispered "what?!", though she did it in the ears of her public defender and he did it to himself, though without having his partner hearing it.

The public defender, in his turn, lightly patted the teenager on the back before standing up to address the court.

"Your honor, this young lady tells me that she can't remember anything, as she was the subject of several newspaper reports in the last few days, as your honor may remember", he began.

Judge Jackson nodded his head in agreement.

"Considering that she doesn't know who she is, and no one has come forward to claim custody of her, it's unreasonable to expect anyone in this situation to come up with that kind of money", the suspect's attorney continued.

"Thank you, Mr. O'Donnell", the magistrate replied, looking at the prosecutor to for a rebuttal.

"Judge, I don't care about her age right now. Whether her fingerprints returned positive for an ID or not, the court has already decided to treat this defendant as an adult due to the seriousness of the charges", Houssan eagerly went on, "She should learn that you don't assault several, not just one, but several cops who are only doing their job. And we don't even know if she really can't remember anything. For all we know, she may be making up this amnesia story to avoid the repercussions to her actions".

"I'm not lying!", Shakahnna exclaimed as she remained seated next to her representator.

"Mr. O'Donnell, please advise your client to only address the court through you and not on her own", the judge pointed at her.

"Yes, your honor, I apologize", the public defender placed his hand on her shoulder to calm her down, "But she does have a point that she isn't intentionally wasting this court's time. This girl says, and I believe her, that she doesn't remember who she is".

"A psych exam administered by a state-sponsored counselor could clarify the picture, judge", Houssan interjected.

"That's a good idea", O'Donnell agreed, "The sooner it's done, the sooner the district attorney can get their confirmation that my client isn't lying".

"Fine, so ordered", the black-robed adjudicator indicated for Mr. Grieves to type out the instructions before he could sign it, "Bail is still set at $200,000".

Chino gasped in surprise at the amount that was required, realizing it was much more than he could ever afford. His colleague looked away from the packed courtroom and stared at him for an instant as he wondered what had occurred. In his mind, Donnelly believed that his partner felt upset because of the teenager's own inability to meet the bail requirement, so he turned his attention back towards the suspect soon afterwards.

"The hearing is set for thirty days from today, July 8th at 9 AM, back here. If the psych results are received by then, we'll continue with arguments at that time", judge Jackson continued as Shakahnna turned in her chair to look at Chino and casually shrugged her shoulders.

It didn't seem strange to her that he seemed more upset than she was at the moment.

"Judge, with all due respect, there is no way that my client…", the public defender started a protest that he himself didn't expect to be effective.

"I'll pay the bail", a female voice interrupted O'Donnell's prepared speech and surprised everyone within the large area.

A hush descended on the courtroom. The teenager's astonished face turned to the back to see who had said the last four words, just as both her officers did the same. Even the judge, the two attorneys and couple of journalists took a few seconds to turn towards that same direction. 

"Excuse me, ma'am, who are you?", judge Jackson asked out loud as he realized a woman who was seated in the middle of the first bench that was reserved for the public. 

She was in her 30's, dressed in a blue business suit, wore a hat that was simplistic, yet stylish, and sunglasses.

"Surely you remember me, your honor", the woman stood up as she removed her hat and sunglasses with both hands, "We met at the fundraiser for disabled raccoons about six months ago at the mayor's mansion".

It was only when she removed the hat and glasses that most people in the courtroom instantly recognized who she was.

"Mrs. Warren!", the magistrate smiled as he and many members of the staff and audience recognized the mayor's wife, "Of course I remember you. I just hadn't recognized you all this time because of your insistence to hide that lovely face of yours. But if I remember correctly, the fundraiser was to help kids with permanent disabilities instead of our great city's rodent population".

"Of course it was, judge Jackson", Elena Warren smiled back as she approached the prosecutor's desk. 

Only employees and staff were allowed to go past the benches that were designed for the audience if they had been summoned by the court officer, but she knew that she'd be immune to that regulation, especially since she was in a cordial conversation with the judge.

"As you know, my husband and I believe that the children are the future", she flashed a double row of white teeth in between blood-red lips as she kept talking with a smile on her face, "They're best interest is _so_ important, we must do our best to protect every one of them, including the more unfortunates like this young lady here".

She casually pointed towards the public defender's desk as she finished talking, even as Shakahnna turned away from her and looked at Chino while mouthing "what's going on?" without saying those words out loud.

Officer Chisholm shook his head as he indicated to her that he truly did not know the answer.

"Mrs. Warren, as much as I appreciate your intentions here, do you truly understand what this individual is accused of?", the magistrate's tone became more serious.

"Yes, I do, your honor, which is why my husband and I wish to help her", the mayor's wife continued in the totally quiet room, "Poor thing must've been so scared if she woke up in the woods and couldn't remember who she was or what happened. My husband and I felt terrible about the anguish she must've suffered before confronting everyone who had tried to help her. Why else would she have reacted as she did?".

"Is your family really willing to pay her bail? That would be $20,000 cash", judge Jackson added.

"Yes we are, if you would be so kind as to tell me where I can sign a check?", she informed him, "I'm assuming you'll take a check from me and not need to ask for ID?".

That created a combination of lighter laughter and chuckles from most people in the room.

"Of course we won't", the judge stated with a smile, "But I must warn you, Mrs. Warren, that this is more than just bail. Because the young lady doesn't have any parents, taking her in would mean that you're assuming all responsibility over her, at least until this case is resolved".

"Your honor, this surprising turn of events would prompt me to please ask the court to impose that the defendant be placed under house arrest if Mrs. Warren is planning to be so kind as to take her in for the duration of this case", the prosecutor added to the conversation.

"I agree", the magistrate struck the top of his desk with the miniature hammer before turning his attention to officers Chisholm and Donnelly, "Please escort the defendant to the basement so Probation/Parole can outfit her with an ankle bracelet and custody can be transferred to Mrs. Warren".

"Shak, come with us", Chino called out only loud enough for her and the public defender to hear.

The teenager didn't think twice, so she stood up, shook Mr. O'Donnell's right hand and quickly scampered towards the two waiting officers so she could be transported back down to the basement. She had more than a slightly perplexed look over her face, as opposed to the usual good-natured grin. But as confused as she felt about the events of the last few minutes, it was better than the alternative, she decided.

----------------------------------------

"Geez, Sean, I'm the mayor's wife, for fuck's sake. You'd think they'd be able to do all this bullshit faster considering who I am and how I pay their wages", Elena Warren complained to her younger assistant as they were both waiting for the paperwork to be processed before she could sign them.

Both individuals were in the city hall basement along with about a score of employees and three suspects with accompanying guards who were waiting to be processed for house arrest. The aide looked over to where Shakahnna stood about twenty steps away as she was energetically speaking to one of the officers. Another RPD employee looked on with either distaste or indifference a few feet away from the teenager, Sean couldn't tell which. But from the way the girl was talking to the first man, it seemed as if they were both trying to say a lot of things to each other when their time was limited.

"I assume your husband's office is OK with you writing a $20,000 check, Mrs. Warren?", the recent college graduate tried to divert her from the wait for the documentation that was annoying her, "I know that he wasn't sure how high the judge would set the bail".

"What the hell does he care, Meega?", Elena angrily answered without looking at him but instead keeping her focus on the one employee who'd bring her the papers she needed, indicating that she hadn't been distracted from her rant at all, "What a stupid question to ask. It's not _his_ money, it's the taxpayers', so no, he won't be losing any sleep after he's done watching the latest 'Debbie Does Dallas' nonsense".

"I'm sure he'll appreciate you doing this work and helping with his PR, ma'am", Sean Meega kept sounding more courteous than he wanted to, never forgetting that he was only an employee at the will of mayor Warren and could have his job terminated at any time.

"Yeah, right!", she hissed back, this time turning her face towards his, "Let's just bring that little bitch home so this entire nightmare can finally be over. I've been smiling so damn much for these idiots today that my face is beginning to hurt". 

"I'm sorry about that, ma'am", her associate continued talking in a different tone of voice, "I'll make sure to call for your masseuse once you return home so your day can pick up".

"Well, thank you, Sean", she sounded genuine, though resentment never left her voice as she turned back to look at the city hall staff, "I bet she's _so_ uncouth, though. I dread to think of how much distress that little cretin is going to cause at home. You know we had to fork out a small fortune for Joanne and ten of her friends for a vacation in Europe so she wouldn't cause a fuss when this brat arrived".

Just then, an officer walked up to her with a pen and a piece of paper that was in triplicate.

"If you'll just sign here, Mrs. Warren, the client has already been outfitted with the ankle bracelet and will be turned over to your custody", the middle-aged man informed her.

Only Sean noticed the instantaneous transformation that occurred on Elena Warren's face. The mayor's wife went from having her face be contorted in scorn to one that appeared to be extremely friendly and sincere, which was the one he knew she used whenever in public or in front of a camera.

"Oh, thank you, dear", she smiled at the officer as she signed the dated document, "It'll be so wonderful to bring that poor, poor soul to a loving environment where she'll be free to grow and learn and hopefully one day be as positive a member of society as your men are".

"Thank _you_, Mrs. Warren", the man smiled back as he pointed in the direction of the two RPD officers who were guarding Shakahnna, "Now whenever you're ready, you can talk to those two guys there to discuss turning the young lady over to you".

With that, he departed from the mayor's wife and her assistant as he returned to other duties, leaving them alone once again.

"Come on, Meega, I want this over before I get an extra line in my forehead", she growled, being herself again as she was staring at having to do a chore.

----------------------------------------

In the meantime, the teenage redhead was hovering around the only friendly face she had known so far, thus she and officer Chisholm were quickly discussing the latest turn of events because they knew they had a very limited time to be alone.

"First off, will you be coming with? _Can_ you come with me? If no, when will I see you again? It sounds like she be's pretty swell on the outside, but it may be that she's not that genuine since she seems a bit OTT. What do you think? Do you know her? Are you OK? Will you be ok?", she shot several questions at him without stopping to let him answer any one of them and, before he knew it, he had lost track of which question he was supposed to concentrate on.

"All right, first, yes, I'll be happy to come along. We can both take a tour of your new home together, since you're gonna be seeing a lot of me once you're settled in", the officer smiled at her.

She grinned back as Donnelly placed his own right hand on Chino's left shoulder.

"No can do, Steve. Orders of the chief. Both of us are called back to home base ASAP now that she's got new custody with the mayor", the older man informed him personally, but was talking loud enough for the teenager to hear also.

For the first time since he could remember, Donnelly saw the defendant glaring at him with an extremely angry look in her eyes. He was suddenly uncomfortable that she wasn't restrained any more.

"Was this _your_ doing??", she hissed as she pointed an accusing right index finger towards him.

"Hey, relax", the more experienced cop pointed both his palms towards her as he held them a few inches in front of his own chest, "I had nothing to do with this. I don't give a rat's ass if Steve goes with you and I go back to base alone, but the chief called me just a couple of minutes ago and told me that the mayor had called him, that the Warrens are expecting you, and that as of now, you're officially someone else's problem. But more to the point, Steve and I are ordered back as of five minutes ago. You yourself can call the desk sergeant to confirm what Irons' orders were, if you want".

"If I find out that you're lying…", she kept hissing at him.

"Eric doesn't have a reason to make this up, Shak. I really _do_ trust him", Steve squeezed her left shoulder, repeating the same gesture she had done for him when they were talking while being separated by the bars of a holding cell a few days previously.

The small symbol of affection was enough to calm her down, as Chino turned back to address Donnelly even as her gaze never left the older man.

"That's fine, Eric. Could you just give us a minute here and then we'll go back?", the young man asked.

"No problem", Donnelly replied before intentionally walking half a dozen steps away to distance himself from them.

"I'm sorry", Chino spoke in a lower tone of voice once they were alone, looking as disappointed as she felt as he reached into one of his uniform pockets.

Shakahnna saw him withdrawing a checkbook, which he held in front of him so she could see what it was.

"Just so you know, I wanted you to come home with me, but I only have $5000 in the bank, and that's _with_ an overdraft", he explained, "But I just can't make your bail when it's been set so damn high. That's why it's go with the Warrens or back to jail, and I'd rather visit you and have you be able to visit me whenever you want".

"Aww, that's so sweet!", she smiled as she embraced him with both arms and he did the same.

"But so what happens now with this bracelet thingie that's latched to my ankle?", she asked as they separated.

"Well, the bad news is that that's a monitor to keep you under house arrest, meaning that you can't leave the mayor's house without going to places that are pre-approved by the probation department", he explained, "But that's where the good news comes in. Seeing as to how I'm the officer that the chief assigned for your case, I'm sure probation won't have a problem with you coming to see me so we can 'discuss' your case".

He winked as he pronounced the last few words, making sure she understood the loophole he was talking about.

"This here is my business card along with my phone number at work", he added as he then put away the checkbook and withdrew one of the 20-odd business cards he carried in his uniform, "Hang on to it because the back has some pretty useful info also".

With that, he withdrew a pen and wrote down a few words on the back of the card before handing it to her.

"The useful info being my home address and phone number", he went on as he put away the pen.

"Maybe I'll still see you a lot, right?", she asked as she looked over the card for herself.

"Every day, assuming you want to", he informed her, "I'll let your monitoring PO know who I am and, as long as I call him to confirm that you're leaving the Warrens' place to see me, he'll definitely be fine with that. Best part is, he doesn't have to know _where_ we're meeting as long as I have official supervision of you in person".

The teenager replied with a wide smile, showing two rows of teeth as she did.

"Every day, huh?", she repeated, "I'd watch it, Chino, cause I'm well gonna cling to you".

He only had time to smile back before they both heard Elena Warren calling out to her as she and her assistant approached the spot where they stood.

"Sweetheart!", the mayor's wife called endearingly as she had her arms spread while coming closer to the redhead.

Shakahnna instinctively took a step back as she saw the older woman's advance, but then forced herself to stand in place as Warren came within an arm's reach of her.

"Sorry", she apologized while still not allowing herself to be embraced, "I'm just not used to people yet".

"Oh, that's OK, darling", Elena kept smiling back, "You must be so excited to meet your new family, just like they are to meet you. Our first daughter Joanne was just up all night, I've not seen her that excited since prom night".

"See, Shak? You're in good hands", Steve sounded more cheerful than he felt, though he was sure she could see through his façade.

"Oh, absolutely", the mayor's wife replied, "And I _love_ that name".

"So I'll see you later?", the teenager addressed the officer as she headed towards Warren, "You know where I'll be".

"The car's waiting this way, sweetheart", Elena gently placed both her hands around the defendant's shoulders even though the teenager's body jumped at bit at being touched, "And Sean here will drive us to your new home where you can relax and have some fun".

The younger woman looked at Chino's direction as the mayor's wife and her aide were leading her away towards the exit door, and she mouthed "I'll call you" without saying the words out loud. In his turn, the young man understood and nodded his head as Shakahnna put his business card inside one of the pockets that were available on her outfit.

He watched her leave with the two near-strangers as she kept her head turned to keep her eyes locked with his. He only turned to walk towards Donnelly after the trio had walked through the exit and the door had automatically closed behind them.

"Come on, dude, we need to head", Chino's partner patted him on the back once as they walked towards another door to reach their patrol car, "And don't worry, if she loves you, she'll come back to you".

"That's funny, dude", Chino commented with sarcasm.


	6. Chapter 6 So who are the good guys again

The car ride to the mayor's mansion started off as being very quiet, with Sean Meega at the wheel and his employer, the mayor's wife, next to him in the front passenger seat.

"We'll be home in about fifteen minutes, Miss Shakahnna", the driver mentioned as they were strapping themselves via the seatbelts.

"Thanks, Mr…", she stopped, waiting for him to mention the name or title she should use while addressing him.

"It's Meega", he finished, "Feel free to lower the windows if you feel too warm".

She had to admit that being given the option to do so felt good.

The trip to what would be her home was relatively short, as the driver had predicted, and the teenager found it odd that neither the driver nor her new woman who had taken her in had anything to say to her. Sean had his eyes on the road throughout the entire ride and Elena Warren just kept tapping all five fingers of her right hand on the dashboard as if she was extremely bored. 

The city outside Shakahnna's car window seemed the same as the one she had seen while on her way to the courtroom, except that it was now in the afternoon rather than in the morning. But halfway through the trip, the houses appeared to be bigger and better kept, along with having a larger extension of green grass in front of them. So it seemed that she was leaving downtown Raccoon City and heading towards the suburbs that were at its outskirts.

The girl wasn't sure of what to say or how to act due to the uncomfortable silence she was experiencing, as it was strange for this woman to go so out of the way and spend so much money to get her out of jail and then have nothing to comment on. She was still glad that she was going to a house and would have the freedom of calling her only friend when she wanted. That definitely sounded better than waiting for him to visit her so they could talk with iron bars always separating them.

She was tempted to say anything, even opting to make social comments that she didn't believe, but stayed quiet as she decided there was no point in starting a relationship with deceit. Also, she didn't want to sound ungrateful by speaking up and asking why the person who bailed her out and couldn't stop talking in city hall suddenly had nothing to say.

Thus, she was glad when the car slowed down as it neared a giant garden and, as she looked out the window, she heard herself gasping at the sheer size of front yard. She guessed it was approximately a hundred yards long by a hundred yards wide, with all of its borders being surrounded by an 8-foot steel fence that was spiked at the top. The only way through the high enclosure seemed to be an open gate in the middle of the front side that left about ten yards of space on the ground for a driveway. Next to the open gate was a guard booth with a uniformed sentry who was carrying a sidearm on a belt holster. So Sean slowly led the vehicle towards the gate entrance as he completely opened the window from his side until the driver's side was an arm's reach away from the armed guard.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Warren, Mr. Meega", the privately-hired sentinel bent down as he rested his left hand on the roof of the car and his right hand on the driver's side window.

He then looked over to the backseat and smiled at Shakahnna.

"Ma'am", he added with a nod.

The teenager graciously reciprocated, flashing a huge smile and showing off two rows of teeth in the process before the vehicle made its way deeper into the large garden.

Past a score of bushes that were pruned to look like animals, the redhead finally got a glance at their ultimate destination, which she hardly believed that she hadn't noticed earlier. At the end of the hundred yard-long drive, the mayor's giant mansion loomed in the middle of the back end of the front garden. It was four stories tall and about half the width of the garden itself, surrounded by at least half a dozen pine trees, some of which were nearly as high as the mansion roof itself. 

"When we park, I'll show you to Penny", Elena finally spoke as they were nearing the manor, "She'll show you to your room and, if you need anything or are going anywhere, it's better to inform her first".

----------------------------------------

"This be's a pleasant surprise", Shakahnna turned to the woman behind her as she was still trying to visually comb the 3rd floor room that she was told was now hers.

The area in the bedroom was huge, she guessed it to be about twenty feet wide by forty feet in length. Its entire floor was covered with wall-to-wall carpeting underneath a luxurious bed, a wooden desk, one-person sofa and large wooden cabinet which supported a CD player, a VCR and a 27-inch TV.

"All for me?", she asked with a smile.

"Absolutely, the Warrens want you to feel at home and comfortable while waiting for this trial to be over", her escort informed her as she stood formally and pointed towards the desk, "And if you need any money, there's some over there in a wallet that's inside the top left hand drawer. You will be assigned a weekly allowance on top of that, much like the Warrens' daughter Joanne".

"This is really mental", the teenager said in awe, her face showing the surprise she felt, "One question, though. Could I possibly aqquire something to eat? I'm kinda hungry".

"The kitchen is open 24/7 if you wish to find a snack, or I can ask the butler to set up the dinner table for a bigger meal", Penny informed her, still standing at attention.

"Dinner would be swell", the teenager replied, "We'd be eating together?".

"Actually, no", the guide went on, "Mrs. Warren had to return to her job after dropping you off, and Mr. Meega had to report to Mr. Warren's office to help with matters there, and Joanne is currently on a skiing vacation in France. So you'll be dining alone for tonight".

"Will be you eating too, Penny?", the redhead felt confused, "Assuming Penny is OK, I mean. What should I be calling you, ma'am?".

"Penny's fine", the approximately 40-year old woman informed, "I'm just here to make sure that your time here goes with maximum enjoyment for you".

"Thankies", Shakahnna went on, "Does there be a phone and can I use it?".

"Absolutely", Penny nodded, "There's a phone in the top right drawer of the desk".

"Is there anything I can do for you?", the teenager offered, hoping very much that she would be told that there wasn't as she was very eager to get her hands on that phone.

"Not at all. I'll inform the butler to start dinner and let you know when it's ready", Penny turned to leave the room without another word.

The younger woman blurted out a 'thank you' as she watched the mayor's guide leaving, but she wasn't sure if Penny heard or not since the older woman moved faster than Shakahnna thought possible considering that she wasn't running. Either way, the teenager didn't wait before quickly pacing towards the desk and opening the top right drawer. As predicted, a green-colored digital phone that was plugged into the wall behind the desk via an opening at the back of the drawer was there. She then eagerly picked it up with one hand as she withdrew Chino's business card with the other. Lifting the receiver, she then dialed the numbers to reach officer Chisholm's desk phone. 

As the tone rang in her ear, she found herself wondering if her parents and whatever other family members she had that she couldn't remember were doing as well as she was at the moment.

"Officer Chisholm here. Can I help you?", Chino picked up the phone as it was ringing.

"Sure you can. Spread your legs and assume the position", Shakahnna grinned from the other end as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Say what?!", the officer shot back on his own phone, "Who the fuck is this?".

"Oh, sunshine, I'm hurted", she gave a mock pout.

"Hurted? Who the hell talks like that? Except for this one redhead I used to know, no one else does", Chino continued, "And I haven't heard from her since she left this station and settled down with my former field partner, Eric. Last I heard, Eric said that he got her banged up with her third set of twins and she was loving being a housewife".

"Oh god Chino, stop!", she cried out, "If I get a mental picture I might lose the will to live".

"Of course", his tone of voice became more serious, "How's life with the Warrens?".

"As ironic as this is going to sound, I am actually going to miss being in the RPD", Shakahnna told him as she stood up and walked to the lone window in the bedroom, phone always in hand, "What place is safer to sleep than in a police station? There's only one small lock on this bedroom door, so I don't think I'll be sleeping much here".

"Oh, I'm sorry about that", the officer said.

"Can I have your gun?", she followed through.

"Are you sure you need it?", Chino added, "You have enough bone-breaking power in those arms and legs to take out anyone who's stupid enough to come after you, Shak. Not to mention your ability to find weapons anywhere around you from everyday stuff".

"I bet you say that all the girls", she smiled as she opened the window with her free hand and enjoyed the cool breeze while staring out at the tall pine tree that vertically shot past it from about a yard away.

"Are you OK?", the RPD employee asked.

"Not bad, and you really wouldn't believe how amazingly luxurious this place be's, Chino", she told him as she kept looking at the pine needles that danced in the gentle gust, "It's a palace, as simple as that, and I be having a room that's full of everything a teenage girl could want".

"Wow, that's great", the young man commented, thinking she was going to agree.

Instead, he only got silence from the other end of the phone.

"Right?", he asked next.

"I suppose", she finally spoke, "But something well you know. What time do be you getting off?".

"In just over two hours", he looked at his wristwatch, "Why, what's up?".

"Can I come and see you after I eat here?", she asked.

"Yeah, sure, Shak", he didn't need any time to think about it, "I take it that the Warrens are OK with you leaving the first night?".

"Uhuh", the teenager informed him, "At least they would if they were here. But apparently Mr. Warren is almost never be's here and Mrs. Warren is working overtime at whatever job she's gotted, which means you're stuck with me".

"Probation needs to be notified that you'll be leaving and where you'll be", he made sure she knew.

"If you'll do that for me, I'll get dinner? Even for Donnelly as long as he is some place else", that statement from her got a laugh at the other end of the phone, "And if he _is_ there, then I reserve the right to spit in his food first".

"I can do that here, I have the PO's number here. I can always tell them that you're meeting me and Eric and we're taking you to review the crime scene and we won't be back for a few hours as we'll be canvassing the area for clues", he came up with a feasible idea.

"That would be really swell, Chino, thankies", she felt relieved, "I'll meet you outside the front door to the RPD building?".

"I'm not sure exactly what time I'll be leaving exactly, Shak", officer Chisholm went on, "There's so many formalities and paperwork here that require me to be away from my desk before I can jet, and I can't say for sure when I'll be free. I can only approximate".

"Then I can just comed and get you at your desk, just meet me there when you're all finished", she countered, "If you don't be done by the time I arrive, then I'll wait. What else do I have to wait for anyway?".

"One more thing, though. Where is the Warrens' home as far as our base here is concerned?", Chino remembered to ask, "How far is it? And do you know the way?".

"It didn't be that far, I kept track of where we were driving. I'd say it was about four or five miles", she added, "I can easily walk that after dinner and make it there in two hours".

"You're sure you know the directions?", the officer wanted to make sure.

"Uhuh. And I got your phone number memorized to call collect in case I get lost and require assistance, don't worry", she smiled, "So you can then come and pick me up with your squad car from wherever I'm lost at, except this time I get to sit in the front seat like a big girl and play with the sirens".

"Only if you're very, very good", he smiled back, "And Shak, considering how much more work I need to do before I can take off for today, let me go so I can finish it up and meet you in a couple of hours at my desk, and _do_ keep my phone number on you till we meet".

"No problem, Stephen", she placed emphasis on his name, "I can't wait".

She hung up and waited for dinner to be served. It was going to be the fastest meal she'd ever eaten.

+++++++++++++++++++

"Note to self. Don't do that again", the four to five miles had felt more like twice that as Shakahnna finally saw the RPD building down the street. 

The giant flags were waving from horizontal poles that were attached to the first floor of the structure, the first being the US flag while the second represented the city. It wasn't long before she made her way in through the front door, feeling a bit surprised that she was allowed to move around freely considering she had left this place in restraints earlier in the day. But contrary to expectations, no one stopped her or asked what she was doing here. If anything, she was more curious if Penny had found the note on her bedroom door that stated she was bored and going out for a walk that would last the rest of the day. She hadn't used the front door to leave the mayor's mansion because she didn't want to run into anyone, thus opting to climb out the 3rd floor window before scaling down the tree. So once here, it appeared as if the majority of the officers were stationed on the second floor, so she climbed the steps until she reached it and started the process of finding her friend's desk.

Surprisingly, the second floor was almost deserted, as most of the staff was on the ground floor instead and only one person other than her could be spotted. None of the name plates on the empty desks closest to her had Chino's name written on them, so the teenager didn't hesitate to walk up to the only uniformed officer to find out what she needed to know. A man dressed in the customary blue RPD uniform was about twenty steps away inside an office whose door was open, with his hands resting on a desk and his head lowered, staring at the wooden surface as he was apparently reading something.

Shakahnna walked into the office without knocking and came within an arm's reach of the man from behind him and used her left thumb and index finger to gently take a hold of his left sleeve before tugging downward to get his attention. 

"Ex-squeeze me", she uttered to get his attention further.

The man, in his own turn, appeared surprised as his head bolted up and to his left side simultaneously. The redhead then found herself staring up into his face as she wondered why he was wearing sunglasses while indoors.

"Can I help you? Are you looking for me?", he spoke with a voice that seemed much calmer than anyone else's she had heard before.

"Not unless you be Chino", she replied, her neck still arched upwards, "And can you crouch down so I'm not looking up so much?".

The man showed a smile even as he tucked his hands into his uniform pockets and remained standing straight.

"I know I'm not Chino", he continued with a friendly smile even though his eyes remained hidden, "Name's Wesker, as you'd know if you read the large tag on my desk. And I can't say I know of anyone in this building who's named Chino. What position does he work at?".

She shrugged her shoulder before she realized she was asking for the wrong information.

"His name's officer Chisholm", she corrected herself, "And he's quite young, they call him 'rookie'".

"Of course! Now I know who you're talking about", the RPD official answered with a more serious tone, "You want to go to the other side of this floor. Go past the RPD logo on the floor tiles, and look to your right. It's the second desk there, and I think he's still there. I saw him about half an hour ago".

"Thankies", she flashed two rows of teeth with a smile of her own before she excitedly headed in the direction he had indicated.

----------------------------------------

It took another two minutes to arrive at her proper destination, so she found the name with 'Officer Stephen Chisholm' inscribed on it. Unfortunately, the young man that she was planning to meet wasn't there. So the girl settled down on the desk itself and decided to wait for him, hoping that it wouldn't be a long wait.

Ten minutes passed before she began to get fidgety and looked around the large area in the anticipation of seeing Chino appear, but that did not happen. So she stood up and looked about more carefully, her natural curiosity having taken over. It must've been the end of shift for one set of officers and the beginning of shift for another set because most of the desks there were empty. 

Shakahnna did end up running into a familiar name, though not into the person that the name represented. Officer Marvin Branagh's name was etched on a narrow, rectangular plate at one of the work stations, so she smiled in recollection.

She had remembered passing a vending machine a few yards away from the floor logo that represented the police department. So it was a simple saunter towards it before she placed a few coins inside of the machine and then withdrew an Almond Mars bar from it.

It was then followed by a stroll back to Branagh's desk, where she borrowed a yellow post-it note and placed it on the wooden surface under the candy with a hand-written message that read:

'Hewwo, wanted just to leave a little something to say

thankies for the one that you had given me, it was nice 

of you. Shak'

With a grin on her face at imagining what his reaction would be like at finding the candy bar, she returned to Chino's desk and decided to relax in his chair instead.

----------------------------------------

Half an hour more passed as she kept staring at the overhead clock, wondering where officer Chisholm could be. Finally, a mixture of concern and boredom having set in, she took a hold of the phone that was sitting on the surface of Chino's desk amid a group of apparently loose sheets of paper and other unorganized equipment. Picking up the receiver with one hand and withdrawing his business card with the other, she dialed the numbers to try to contact his phone at home, just in case she had misunderstood the details for their meeting or he had to rush home for some reason.

Five rings were counted from her end before she heard Chino's voice, but it was only automated as his answering machine had taken over. So the teenager decided to place the receiver back down on the desk instead of waiting to hear the end of the answering machine greeting. Standing up to stretch her legs as well as hunt down for clues as to officer Chisholm's whereabouts, she headed back towards the other side of the floor. She was intent on finding officer Wesker again, seeing as to how he was the only uniformed person she saw on this deserted floor.

Unfortunately, that individual was gone by this time also as the door to his office was empty and the door to it was closed.

"Where the fuck is everyone?", Shakahnna was beginning to like the situation less and less.

She passed Wesker's unused office, turning onto a vacant corridor that led to a closed door, which was an unfamiliar part of this building. Opting to follow the hallway in the hope that it led to a destination where all the occupants of the second floor were located together, in a staff meeting perhaps, she also resolved to simply return to the first floor if this one last attempt was unsuccessful in finding others to interact with. 

Either way, this place had an eerie feel to it when empty, especially when her footsteps were the only sound she could hear.

Shakahnna was about twenty yards away from the door when she was glad to see it being opened from the other end, thus bringing an end to the creepy silence. A uniformed officer stepped through the doorway before closing it behind him. The first feature she noticed about the older man was his blonde crewcut which she thought she should recognize, but couldn't at this time. Walking in her direction as she simultaneously closed the distance towards him, the man's eyes widened as he met her gaze, but whatever emotion he felt at seeing her was quickly suppressed.   
The man's facial expression remained neutral as he came to within talking distance of her and she stopped to ask for directions. The officer stopped too, waiting for whatever she had to say. But despite her desire to find officer Chisholm, she couldn't help but feel suspicious about who this man was and why he temporarily reacted the way he did a few seconds ago.

"Hi, I was wondering if you know officer Stephen Chisholm and you could tell me his whereabouts", she acted more seriously than she did earlier towards the previous uniformed employee.

"I'm sure I've seen him in the back a few minutes ago when I passed him", he pointed towards the door that he emerged from.

"Oh, thank you", she smiled, relaxing a minute amount before she took a step to go past him and towards Chino.

"No!", the older man adamantly held his arm between them with the palm facing her before calming down again, "I mean, only cops are allowed back there. Why don't you stay here and I'll go get him".

"Yeah, that would work too", Shakahnna went on, still wondering why he appeared so tense, "But are _you_ alright?".

"Yeah, sure", he replied quickly, "I'll be right back".

The officer turned around and marched back towards the door, this time moving faster, before he walked through it, again closing it behind him.

The inability to know why that man looked so familiar was plaguing her, but the excitement of finally seeing Chino again since this morning was significantly greater.

About a minute passed before she heard a muffled argument from behind the door, which was soon followed by footsteps hurrying towards it from the other side. The door itself finally opened, prompting her to take a pair of steps towards it, but she saw four individuals emerging from the entryway, and none of them was officer Chisholm. The teenager remained standing as she wondered what was going on, her sixth sense screaming a warning in the back of her mind as she kept her back against the corridor wall.

"W… What's going on?", she uttered by the time all four officers were quickly marching towards her after one of them locked the door behind them.

None of the four men replied, only staring back at her instead, each of them appearing angrier than she usually made Donnelly. As they walked, two of them withdrew their nightstick and all four seemed ready for a fight.

"Oh fuck", she thought out loud as she finally remembered them to be some of the same men who had attempted to arrest her in the forest a few days ago when she first woke up.

A rush of adrenaline overtook her senses as she was instinctively readying for a fight. Even though there were quite a few of them, four to be exact, Shakahnna knew with almost certainty that taking them all down would not have been beyond what she was capable of. After all, there had been more of them in the woods and they had been wearing more body armor and carrying more weapons than now.

"Nice to see you again", officer Merton blurted out as he himself used a tone that suggested it was anything except that, "And before you think of bolting out of here, just a few little details you should know about these panic buttons we have everywhere in this station to protect employees from criminal scum like you. They're designed in case any of you attack any of us, like you did with officer Irving here so soon after you were let out of jail".

The older man shook his head in mock disapproval as he mentioned her alleged assault of his colleague.

"But I didn't…", she felt confused before realizing what he was saying, "Oh".

"You little bitch thought you were gonna come back here and show us up after what you put us through, walking through _our_ space like you belong here?!", Irving added.

"So this is one of these eye for an eye things", Merton continued, "You busted us up, so we get to return the favor now. So _do_ try to outrun us so we can chase you and claim that you attacked one of ours. How long do you think it'd be before you returned to jail and your little boyfriend stopped visiting?".

Her eyes widened when she realized he was right. The biggest problem was that it would deeply humiliate Chino due to his relationship with a criminal whose specialty seemed to include the desire to constantly be re-arrested. He believed in her while no one else did, not even the mayor and his family, and had already been on the receiving end of a negative spotlight for spending time with her after her last little adventure. Now, he would only be alienated further from his colleagues if the person he repeatedly stood up for made bail and then was charged with the same crime a few hours later. And obviously, no one would believe a defendant who was bailed out less than a day ago over the word of four police officers.

Fighting would cause the mayor's family a lot of hassle too, not the least of which was the Warrens losing the money they paid to have her out of jail while waiting for her day in court. So there were only two courses of action available. The first was to fight and to become completely isolated and most likely end up in jail. Or there was a second choice, that option not being quite so appealing. But at worst, it would end with a trip to the emergency room. 

Shakahnna did not like pain. But also, she knew the advantage her body had when it came to healing itself after injuries, as opposed to everyone else's. On the other end, beating on these four individuals or running from them would prompt them to make an arrest. In that case, it would only make things more difficult at the upcoming trial. So it was a mandatory choice between letting four thugs in uniforms get their idea of revenge or guarantee a jail sentence, in the meanwhile alienating the Warrens and risking the end of Chino's friendship after his stay at the RPD already turned to a social hell.

These decisions were never easy. 

"If you believed the righteous prattle that you just sang, this isn't something you'd be willing to do", she hissed as she stood her ground.

From what she knew, broken bones and black eyes healed within hours for her. Destroying what she had, or may have one day in the future, with officer Chisholm was worth a lot more than a fraction of a day's worth of pain. Even had the ability to heal so quickly not been an option, Shakahnna liked to think she'd have made the same choice. Before having much time to ponder on this, Merton swung the nightstick downward towards her face, slamming the wooden baton against her left forearm as she raised it to block the blow. A sharp ~crack~ was heard as the weapon partially splintered and left a bright red mark on her skin Shakahnna yelped out. Rook, at the same time, moved in unison with his fellow officer. He gripped the teenager's right wrist before slapping half a pair of handcuffs around it and then using the other half of the restraint to pin her right arm to a handlebar on the wall.

The redhead panicked for the first time as she realized that status of her right hand, trying to set it free by pulling at it. She turned her attention away from the men for a fraction of a second, but whatever effect her effort could've had when it came to loosening the handlebar failed when a hook punch was delivered to the back of her head by one of the four aggressors. That sent her crashing face-first into the wall before she turned back around just in time to see Merton's right jab flying straight to her face.

She caught his fist easily enough with her left hand, but that only left her ribcage open to an assault by the tip of Whey's baton as it drilled into her torso. The redhead felt at least a pair of ribs breaking as she screamed out in pain and recoiled from the blow, crashing back-first into the wall behind her. Irving then capitalized by lifting his own baton before swinging it downward in a semicircle motion, impacting it against her forehead, which sent Shakahnna sinking to the floor as she temporarily saw stars.

With her right arm stuck next to the higher handlebar, the teenager tried to shake her head in an effort to clear the spots from her eyesight as she also tried to climb up to her feet. Her attempt failed as she received a boot to the face courtesy of Merton, sending the back of her skull slamming into the wall behind her yet again.

The teenager spat out blood as she instinctively swung her left arm ahead of her face to block any further attacks. The defensive movement which lacked concentration failed to stop one boot from colliding into eyes while another kick slammed into her stomach, both of which were from unknown officers as blood began to pour down her forehead and into her eyes.

"Not so tough now, are you, bitch?!", Whey yelled out as he held his baton with both hands and shoved it downwards in a straight line with the tip aimed for her face.

The inch-wide wooden point pounded into her already-bloodied face, breaking the bridge of the nose as she bit her own tongue and tasted blood. She didn't recognize the male voice that interrupted the battering, but a fifth individual had rushed towards the scene before stopping right behind her.

"What the hell are you doing?!", the new person exclaimed.

She looked up through bloody vision to see the source of the interruption at the same time that the four officers did, and she recognized Chino's outline standing at his full height behind her. Officer Rook, on the other hand, was so concentrated on the beating he was supposed to administer that he impulsively delivered a right roundhouse punch to the rookie officer's face without even realizing who his target was. That sent Chino staggering to the opposite side of the corridor before he met the wall and struggled to stay up on his feet.

And that was really all it took. Shakahnna stood to her full height, which suddenly didn't seem so small. 

Her eyes were swollen and black while her face appeared to be sunken in, making her bloodshot eyes appear wider than normal. While her neck was previously oscillating her head in every direction, it now cracked and quickly jilted her face forward so as to give her focus on the people there. A huge gash appeared in the lower half of her face as Shakahnna opened her mouth in a demented grin. The trail of blood ran down into her teeth and mixed with saliva, causing a marbled texture there. 

"Oh right… So you boys wanna play huh? Let's play", she barked as she couldn't contain her rage.

Gripping her right wrist with the left hand, she yanked hard with both hands together and broke the handrail off the wall. Four large screws ripped out of the wall along with the metal railing, leaving raw holes where they used to be. She then moved faster than it was possible for her four attackers to follow as she ducked while gripping the edge of the rail with both hands, and then swung it horizontally a few inches off the floor. The newly improvised metallic weapon struck Irving in the ankles and sent the man's legs in an upward semicircle as his upper body went into a horizontal position and then crashed on the hard floor. She followed that initial strike by pushing her left arm towards Merton's stomach as she kept the left hand open. When her hand came within a few inches of the second officer's abdominal area, she balled it into a fist as her closed fingers then slammed into the target area. The result was that Merton's feet came off the floor and the force pushed him backwards before he landed on the floor six feet away and painfully curled his body into a ball, clutching at his midsection.

The teenager sprang up to her feet, first quickly checking the position where Chino had been and, seeing that he was recovering, turned her attention back to the two men who were still on their feet in front of her. But officers Whey and Rook had already taken a few steps back as their wide eyes were surveying the damage done to Merton while Irving himself was slowly climbing up to his feet.

"You three take _that_ with you", she pointed at Merton's still limp form on the floor with her left index finger as she spat blood on the floor, "And get the hell out of my sight".

It was then that she heard Chino walking up behind her. She wasn't going to risk looking away from the four adversaries to glance back at him again, as much as she wanted to, since the threat from the aggressors wasn't by any means over. The teenager guessed that he wasn't in a good mood due to first seeing their assault of her and to then being struck in the face himself.

Irving held his hands in front of his chest, palm towards the duo, as he limped backwards, not wanting to turn his back to her either. He did so as the two officers who hadn't been struck tried to get the shock out of their system long enough to get a hold of Merton's limp arms before dragging him back towards the door that they had emerged from. She finally had the freedom to turn towards officer Chisholm when she saw them using the door to leave the corridor.

"Chino", was the only thing she uttered before the ability to put up a façade finally slipped.

The teenager pressed her right forearm into her stomach, the pain finally being felt at its full brunt as the adrenaline waned. She tried to say something, though she didn't know what, as she felt herself falling towards the floor. Chances are that Chino tried to keep her from falling down. She just didn't know if he succeeded because she was unconscious.

----------------------------------------

"I'd like to see how they tell their 'friends' about what the hell they were doing that got them busted up like that", she impulsively used her left hand to check the status of her jaw.

She was lying on the floor, still in the corridor where the altercation took place, as she spotted Chino squatting next to her.

"You were only out for a few seconds. Do you need me to call an ambulance?", he asked as she felt one of his forearms under her upper back, keeping her body from laying flat on the floor.

"Nu uh, no hospitals, nothing that's gonna bring attention to this", she shook her head as blood spat out of her mouth and nose.

"Are you sure?", he looked back and forth to each end of the hallway, wondering if anyone else had wandered through this place.

"I'm sorry", she sighed.

"What the hell for?", he countered, looking back down at her bloodied face.

She pointed to his blackened left eye which bore the bruise even though it wasn't shut all the way, as he could still see through it.

"You got hurted", she pointed out the obvious.

"Don't worry about that now", he shook his head, "Do you think you're able to move? I don't want you lying on the floor if it can be helped".

She only nodded her answer.

"I still don't think you should move, Shak", he tried to change her mind, not sure how effective his argument would be, "You could have internal bleeding. Moving will only make it worse".

"NO!", the teenager replied, "Just wanna find some place where I can sit down and be comfy".

She held her arms towards him, the right wrist still attached to the handcuffs even after the guardrail had slipped off the metal restraints. He didn't reach back to help her up, still insistent that she should stay still. So she placed her left hand on the floor, palm down, and tried to sit up by herself, only partially succeeding. So he finally gave in and used the forearm that was already behind her to lift her upper body up.   
She slouched over in his direction as he used his free arm to withdraw keys to the handcuffs that were in his uniform, thus he extended the arm that was at her back so he could use that hand to grip the handcuffs that were still attached to her. With the keys in his other hand, he finally loosened the restraints and let the cuffs fall on the floor before he helped her to her feet and hoped she could make it to one of the many empty interrogation rooms.

----------------------------------------

The rectangular-shaped room had a table in the middle with at least a dozen chairs circling the table itself. A large, 2-person couch was at the other side of the room, opposite the door that they had used to get inside. There was nothing on the walls as far as decorations except for a border that spanned the entire circumference of the room with a pattern of blue and yellow checks on it. The four walls themselves were painted a friendly shade of cream behind an overhead television screen that hung on a shelf that was about six and half feet in the air.

Shakahnna saw all this as she briefly scanned her surroundings while she was lying on her back on the couch itself, her feet stretched past the end of the cushions, while officer Chisholm was seated on the nearest chair. Lifting the bottom of the T-shirt she had on, she used her left hand to check the amount of damage that was done to her rib cage as Chino gasped at the big purple lump that was six inches wide and covering the spot where two of her ribs were broken. A line of crusted blood on that spot also added to the general disgust that Chino found himself feeling.

"I need to go get you some ice for that", she pointed to his face after finishing the impromptu check of her torso.

She began to climb off the sofa but was interrupted even before she had a chance to get her footing.

"Sit down!", he could barely believe what she was saying, "Or else you're going to the hospital".

She did as requested, lying back down on her back and staring up at the ceiling.

"So where does this be?", she asked while looking upwards as he gently checked the bruise on his own face.

"It's a conference room", he informed her, "It was closer than the interrogation places we have, and it has a couch. I figured it's better to stop here and see what our situation is".

"So what the fuck happened?", he questioned at the same time that she looked at him and asked, "So where did you be?".

He sighed as he leaned back on the chair.

"Eric and I got called away to the same damn address we were at a couple of days ago where that couple almost killed each other. Seems they had made bail after kissing and making up and went home together the day after we arrested them both. Except the shit hit the fan again and they were back trying to kill each other tonight". He explained, "Once the call came through to our dispatcher and it was the same address, our sergeant thought it'd be best if Eric and I were sent to take those two retards in, seeing as to how we've been there before. So I got the call for the mandatory overtime a few minutes after we talked on the phone. I was hoping to be back here from holding by the time you got back".

"Waiting wouldn't have been a problem, but I couldn't find anyone and I be'd worried that something had happened", she continued, "So I went to look for you just in case something had gone wrong. But this place was _deserted_ like… the, like the woods be'd".

"It's the freaking shift change!", he replied with a frustrated tone, "It only lasts for like half an hour, but during that time, the first shift is leaving while the second shift is signing in on the first floor or picking up car keys in the garage".

"Oh", she went on as she laid her head back down on the cushion.

"Now your turn", he pointed at her with a right index finger.

"Well, once upon a time, there was a dumb redhead who ran into a bunch of cops. The cops were angry at this redhead for kicking their ass", she started, "And they reminded the girl of some reasons why she couldn't do it again. The stupid teenager had no witnesses and got handcuffed to the wall. There was lots of pain, the end".

"What reasons? What're you talking about?", he followed through.

"Just stuff. Sometimes you just don't have a choice, you know. You just have to take it", she lifted her head to lock eyes with him.

"What stuff??", he interrogated with more gusto, "Why weren't you wiping the floor with those four…".

He stopped for an instant, trying to find the right word.

"Bastards!", he barked as he stood up and angrily kicked the chair he was previously on.

"Please, Chino, it doesn't matter now. It doesn't be important", she whimpered, contrary to the usual tone of voice she normally used.

"Something to do with _me_, wasn't it?", he sat down on the table in front of her so it'd be more difficult for her to break eye contact.

She breathed in and out heavily, keeping both hands pressed against her ribs and trying to find a way to not answer his question. That's when they both heard the door opening behind the young man and a familiar voice addressed him.

"Hey Chino, man, I've been looking everywhere…", officer Donnelly waltzed into the conference room from behind his partner's back as the door was slowly closing behind them.

Officer Chisholm kept his body facing the couch as his partner walked further into the room. It was only then that the older man caught sight of the teenager who was lying on the couch and had the younger man's attention.

"What the fuck is she doing in here?", he stopped walking and pointed at her with his right index finger.

It was only then that Chino turned his head around over his left shoulder, looking back at Donnelly and letting his partner see his blackened eye for the first time.

"You fucking bitch!", Donnelly's face became contorted into an angry one as he advanced towards the couch and simultaneously withdrew his 9mm handgun.

"No, no, no, no, NO!", Chino raised his voice as he stepped in front of his colleague with his arms raised in front of his chest to stop the older man's forward march.

"She did that to you and you're STILL trying to protect her?", Donnelly accused the younger man, "Dude, just give some chick $75 and get this hard-on of yours out of your system".

Neither one of them saw the teenager placing her face into her hands as the pressures of the day were finally getting to her. After not getting to go home with officer Chisholm and being bailed out by the mayor's family which seemed not interested in how she was at all, followed by the attack by four goons that created the pain in her ribs and face, and finally being accused of hurting her only friend was becoming too much to handle for one day. The last accusation of her attacking Chino was most likely the worst part of it since she'd never allow herself to lay a finger on him.

"She didn't do this to me, Eric", the younger man finally calmed Donnelly down, "If anything it was four of _our_ guys who did this shit to her first and then to me".

"What the hell are you talking about?", a slightly more composed Donnelly holstered his weapon, not sure if he believed what he was being told.

"She'd phoned here to meet me and, when she came in, I found her handcuffed to a guardrail and four nightsticks coming down on her when she was on the floor, dude", Chino continued, pointing to his own deformed face, "And that's how I got _this_ when I interrupted those assholes".

"Why would anybody here do this?", Donnelly became calmer still.

"I don't freaking know, dude. All I know is that she didn't lift a finger to beat them back till _I_ got hit. She was curled up on the floor and taking it before then. When I first walked in, I didn't even know who it was, I just saw them bringing down those damn nightsticks repeatedly like they were trying to kill someone. That was enough to scare me, considering we're supposed to be depending on those yahoos to help us out if we need them", Chino continued.

"Did you recognize who those four jokers were?", Donnelly's voice lowered as he looked past his partner to see Shakahnna, though he didn't see her face as she still had it hidden in her hands.

"Merton was definitely there and those other guys, they were some of the guys who were there when we first picked her up, I know I saw them here before, same guys who had been unhappy with me speaking to Shak in the first place.", the younger man replied as he turned away from Donnelly and walked back towards the couch.

"Shak, are you OK?", he asked as he sat down on the edge of the couch and placed a hand on her own arm.

The teenager wiped her face dry with both hands as she withdrew those hands away from her face in an effort to not show either man that she'd been crying.

"Yeah, just fine, Chino", she tried to smile as she looked back at him.

"Show Eric here what those guys did, will you, Shak?", the young officer asked.

The redhead casually looked up at the older man and took notice of the fact that Donnelly's mouth dropped open as he noticed the full extent of the damage that was done to her face. She had gone from having a decent enough face to something that seemed to step out of a horror movie. It was the first time Donnelly had seen her without her eyes glowing as her jaw was tilted to the side because she couldn't shut it properly and both eyes were black and sunken into her face, which in turn looked like one big bruise.

"And you lot are the good guys, right?", she asked him in a low tone, prompting him to close his mouth and regain his composure.

"This chick needs to go to a hospital, dude", Donnelly turned to Chino, "You and I worry about what to do with our four jokers after she's being looked at".

"No hospitals! I'll be fine, but I'm NOT going to a hospital", Shakahnna countered.

"You _do_ seem to bring out the best in almost everyone you meet", Donnelly addressed her for the first time, and spoke in a casual tone, which was strange considering who he was talking to.

"I'm a people person", she replied as her eyes started to water again.

----------------------------------------

"I'm hungry, does there be anything to eat about here?", Shakahnna asked after having laid down on the couch for about thirty minutes or so.

The amount of time lying on the cushions were all the stretch she wanted to spend relaxing the soreness that seemed to be everywhere on her body from the head down to her ankles. But after already giving it the rest that it required, any more lying down after this point was turning into boredom, so she decided it was better to walk around and let her bones and muscles get used to movement. As expected, every one of her joints protested in agony once she sat up and turned so her feet were on the floor. Also as expected, Chino was acting like a mother hen, with his hand already behind her back just in case she lost her balance as she was standing up.

"I still think you should sit down. No point in getting up just yet", the younger cop advised, suspecting that his recommendation wouldn't be followed.

"I'm going to have to leave here at some point. So I'd rather move now and get used to feeling sore than be hit by a truck when it's time to go to bed", she replied, "Besides, you gotted it just as bad as I did".

Chino looked back towards Donnelly, nonverbally asking him to help in the quest to make the teenager follow common sense.

"If I didn't listen to you, sunshine, what in the world makes you think I'm gonna listen to him?", she caught sight of their silent communication.

That led to both men looking at her, feeling surprised that she saw them corresponding.

"What? I'm not stupid", she replied even without having them ask anything first, "Besides, I'm hungry. Where can I acquire munchies?".

"There's a vending machine out this room, down the hall to your left", Donnelly pointed behind him and towards the closed door.

"I could go get you something if you want", Chino offered.

"Beats the point of getting up to move", she smiled back, "I'll get something and come right back, promise".

"Then take this", the young man reached into his uniform.

Before he had a chance to withdraw any cash, she placed her left hand on his chest to stop him and acquired a grin.

"What're you kidding me? The Warrens must be loaded or something because look at what they left for me", she informed them as she casually took out a handful of 50-dollar bills from her own pocket.

Both men's eyes widened, even if only for an instant.

"Goddamn, look at that", Donnelly thought out loud, "That's more than we make here in a week".

"So is there anything _I_ should be getting for _you_?", she asked.

"Well, since you're offering, how about one of each item?", Donnelly asked with a grin as he sat down on the couch in his own turn.

She wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not, but limped towards the door regardless.

"Just try to not get into any more altercations before you come back", Chino stated from behind her, "And if you do see anybody, shout for us".

"I'll be fine. I'll be back in a few", she assured him as she left the room and the door closed behind her.

"So what are we supposed to be doing about this?", the younger cop turned to his partner as he remained on his feet and Donnelly stayed seated on the cushion.

"Have to go through procedure, Steve", the older man replied.

"So handcuffing them and having them beaten with nightsticks ain't an option then?", Chino leaned against the table behind him and crossed his arms in front of his chest as they kept looking at each other.

"Not unless you're looking to get fired, kid", Donnelly smiled, "Sergeant Stephens is out for the night. Once he comes back tomorrow morning, we'll first get the names of everyone who was in the forest when this chick was apprehended, then you can do a photo line-up of them to see who those four guys were. After that, it's a complaint to the sarge. But don't be surprised if IA and the chief get involved in this, and it's gonna be the word of one cop and one suspect versus the word of four others. Just be sure to be ready to be alienated from a lot of your 'brothers' here, and this is gonna make things difficult for us both".

"Why us? You weren't even there", Chino felt confused, "And you're not exactly fond of Shak".

"I'm your partner, dude", Donnelly countered, as if the question was a ridiculous one, "Once these four clowns make their bullshit counter-accusations, most guys are gonna make their decisions as to who they believe overnight, regardless of the evidence. There isn't gonna be any cool-minded decision-making here, dude. Officers are either gonna hate you or support you, and whatever they feel towards you is gonna spread to me if I don't distance myself from you once you make your accusations".

"Goddamn it", was the only reply the young cop gave as he scratched his own head with both hands.

"I've seen this before, and it's not pretty. Just make sure you're ready to have a lot of negative energy aimed at you after tomorrow", Donnelly finished, "And things are probably gonna get dangerous for your little friend as well, though not so much if the Warrens are looking after her, which, for the life of me, I still don't get why".

"Just… What I'd seen there… If Shak hadn't retaliated, I don't know how I would've reacted with my own piece", Chino placed his right hand over the handle of his service firearm, "I wanted them dead for a while".

"Well, dude, glad you kept that thing holstered because we'd be having this conversation through bars right now if you took it out and pulled the trigger", the more experienced cop leaned back on the sofa.

"I just can't believe what they were doing. What were they thinking?", Chino started pacing the floor, "And I know you're not crazy about this girl, Eric, but she really isn't as violent as you think. She was making shadow puppets in the basement the first time I saw her, for christ's sake. And then she was giving _me_ a lecture about how there are still good people in this world and how some of us in this building are a part of that. Regardless of the forest, I really think she wasn't thinking straight when we first met her. And she probably wouldn't have done anything if I hadn't gotten hit, either. She would've just let those four do what they were doing till they got bored or freaking tired. And I _know_ it had something to do with what they said about me!".

That last phrase prompted him to punch the wooden table.

"Well, maybe, but she seems to be less upset than you are, dude", his partner pointed out, "And for the life of me, I swear that her face looked less bruised when she left here than when I first came into this room".

"I do hope you both be hungry cause one of each kind is served.", their conversation was interrupted by Shakahnna coming back into the conference area and closing the door behind her with a small kick.

She hurried towards the table and dropped about three dozen different pieces of candy and snacks on its surface.

----------------------------------------

"I really gotta be headed back. It's already be's pretty late and it's gonna take at least a solid two hours to head back to the Warren's home", Shakahnna informed them as she dropped an empty candy bar wrapper on the conference table while chewing on the contents.

The large grouping of papers, most of them being empty, were gathered in the middle of the wooden table as she and the two officers were seated on sporadic chairs around it, all three facing the table itself.

"Yeah, I suppose it _is_ almost ten o'clock here, and work's tomorrow as soon as the sun comes up", Chino added after he looked at his wristwatch.

"Oh damn, I didn't even notice how late it had gotten, and I spent all this time without getting a single thought of trading blows with anyone", Donnelly smirked as he felt his stomach being temporarily bloated by the intake of chocolate and walnuts.

"Funny, dude", Chino smiled back as he was enjoying what he suspected may be his last quiet night in this building for a while.

"Well, you two will both be fine", the teenager added, "Whatever you've munched on today will be burned off with a normal day at work tomorrow. And as for me, I'll be getting all the crap I've eaten burned off by the time I be in bed".

She stood up and slightly pushed the chair behind her at the same time, not surprised that she did so without staggering or feeling much pain.

"What do you mean?", Donnelly questioned.

"You don't know where the Warrens live? It was like a two-hour walk just to get here earlier, so I be expecting to get home by midnight or so. Actually, come to think of it, I'm not even sure they know I left since I kinda left via the window. At least I won't have a problem falling asleep", she stretched her arms.

"Let me get this straight", Chino stood up second, "So you're going to walk home for two hours, after dark, after getting the hell beaten out of you by four big guys with nightsticks".

"Uh huh", she nodded.

"Shak, don't you see a problem with that scenario?", the younger man asked as Donnelly picked up yet another piece of bite-size toffee from the surface of the table itself.

"I really don't feel that bad no more, Chino." she countered, "I gotted quite a bit of rest since we started eating".

"Look, we can at least take the cable car back to your home", the young man went on.

"The what?", the redhead was confused as she randomly walked back towards the couch.

"I take it that your new 'family' hasn't given you a crash course in Raccoon City history and the mayor's involvement in it", Chino rubbed his own inflated stomach, "The mayor designed the RC cable car system like, what, two decades ago? It's the primary public transportation system for this city, working 24/7. It's late now, but still, I'm sure it'll still get you home in at most half the time it'll take you to walk. Plus you won't be as tired".

"Hey, that works", she stated, turning to face him, "Wish I had knowned that earlier. Would've saved me ages in time and several busted bones".

"Come on, the both of you, I'll give you a lift home", Donnelly cut through the conversation with a contribution of his own.

"Really?", the surprise was evident in her voice.

"Yeah, come on, it's been a long night, and we all need all the rest we can get before tomorrow comes", Donnelly intentionally looked at his partner as he finished talking.

"Let's go, then", Chino confirmed the older man's point of view.

----------------------------------------

"Now, as a piece of advice, I'd recommend keeping your phone close and call for help if you feel anything wrong throughout the night", Donnelly stated as he kept his attention on the road while his car neared the mayor's large stretch of land.

He thought it strange that his partner didn't add anything as Chino was seated in the front passenger side and the teenager was alone in the backseat.

"Will do, you really don't need to worry about me", Shakahnna smiled, noting the irony of her last statement as the driver temporarily looked in the rearview mirror to glance back at her.

"You could just drop us off ahead of the guard tower", the redhead peaked her head through the two front seats, "So it'll be easier to turn around and be getting home for you".

"OK, no problem, just make sure to take it easy tonight. I don't think you have any internal bleeding, what with your lack of moaning in pain, but you don't want to do any strenuous activity till you know you're better", the older man continued, oblivious to the meaning of her last statement.

As he momentarily stopped the car, he watched the backseat passenger stepping out of the vehicle. That was expected. What was not expected was having his partner turn to him with surprise news of his own.

"No", Donnelly found himself shaking his own head once Chino was done talking, "No, this isn't happening because it's a terrible, terrible idea".

"It's no different than me sleeping at base overnight", the younger man insisted.

"Chino, dude, if you're short of money, then I'll give you money and I know of a place you can go to so you can get this out of your system, but this just can't happen", the older man countered, determined to not lose this argument, "It's not even about her any more. Do you realize that you'll lose your job _if you're lucky_ if any of this gets out? The cop who's in charge of an investigation sleeping under the same roof as the suspect?".

"But we're not going to do anything anywhere near along the lines of what you are implying. It's just because it's a big place and she doesn't want to be there alone, that's all. There's nothing going on here that's against the rules", Chino tried to win him over as he undid his seatbelt.

It was then that Shakahnna popped her head through the open driver's side window.

"Donnelly, do you go to brothels?", she asked with a hint of mischief in her voice.

The older man turned to face her as he remained seated.

"Was I talking to you? No. I was talking to him", he pointed behind him to Chino instead.

"Look, I'll meet you tomorrow at the sign-in sheet, first thing in the morning, and we'll get that business over with that we talked about", the younger man continued, talking to the back of Donnelly's head, "And no one's going to find out, I swear. Neither one of us is gonna talk about it to anyone else, and she sure as hell ain't".

When the older man merely turned his head to look back at his partner and said nothing, Chino figured that it was the best time to say goodnight and leave, as this was as close as Donnelly was going to get to agreeing with him.

"Don't be sleeping with this girl, kid, you don't even know if she's legal", Donnelly finally uttered as his partner was in the process of opening the front passenger door and climbing out of the vehicle, "That can lead to all kinds of nasty business if you're not careful".

"Eric, I promise, I won't. Don't worry", Chino whispered through the passenger window as he closed his door.

"Don't worry, I'll try not to seduce him", Shakahnna waved goodbye with her right hand as she placed her left one on the young man's shoulder.

"Shak, dear, you're not helping", the older man revved the vehicle before heading back towards the direction that he came from.

Donnelly just wished that he had someone to go home to, as long as it wasn't that redheaded teenager, that is. The last view he saw in the rearview mirror was both individuals heading towards the security guard booth that was about a hundred yards ahead of the mansion itself.

----------------------------------------

"Are you sure that they'll be OK with me staying for the night?", Chino asked her as they approached the security guard who had stepped out of his stall to meet them, with the moonlight and several streetlamps illuminating his figure from above and casting several shadows at once.

"Nu uh. I honestly don't know anymore about them than you do", she had to admit.

"Oh", was the only reply he could think to give.

"But they _did_ say that they wanted me being as comfy as possible", the teenager explained, "Plus ewe can tell them that you're here to protect me after the rough night I had".

"Hi again", she turned her attention towards the guard as they came within talking range of him, "I came here with Mrs. Warren earlier and I'm staying…".

"Ms Shakahnna, Ms Penny's been looking for you. You shouldn't have left without an escort", the guard interrupted with a flat tone of voice, "You should tell her that you're back once you…".

He noticed her face despite her best, though subtle, efforts to hide the scars on her face.

"Are you OK?", the guard changed the subject even before he was done making his previous statement.

"Yeah, just turns out that Raccoon isn't so safe for a young girl on her own", she brushed off his question, hoping that he'd let it go at that.

"Then please go in and make sure you inform Ms Penny that you're back", he frankly added without even asking who Chino was, "Simply knock on the front door when you reach it".

----------------------------------------

"Did you hurt anyone?", Penny's question shot out of her mouth as soon as she opened the door and saw her and Chino standing on the other end of it.

"No!", she exclaimed as she walked inside, motioning for her companion to follow.

It didn't occur to her to respond in sarcasm considering Penny had seen her face and absolutely nothing had registered on the older woman's face.

"Well… Yeah, maybe a couple of people", she had to stop as Penny closed the door behind the three of them, "But _not_ like you're implying. I didn't fight. I didn't do anything to get Mr. and Mrs. Warren in trouble".

"You're not supposed to go anywhere without an escort", Penny countered in a tone of voice that was a mixture of anger and frustration, "And who's _this_?".

She finally noticed that Chino shouldn't have been there.

"He's looking after me", she informed her, "I got attacked. He came to put a stop to it".

"Before you leave this mansion, young lady, you first need to inform me", Penny lectured as if the teenager's answer hadn't registered in her mind, "And that doesn't mean putting a note on your bedroom door saying that you'll be back before sunrise. Second, you need an escort that's approved by the Warrens, and that means, basically, _me_. Are you following me here?".

Shakahnna looked confused and genuinely unhappy.

"But why?", she finally asked after several seconds of silence, annoying the older woman even more.

"Because you're dangerous", Penny barked back, as if she had the answer ready all night all in case the question was ever asked, "Look at the charges that you were arrested for, young lady. The Warrens had bailed you out with the hope of giving you a second chance, and they don't want to see you wasting it and them losing out on the money they invested just to have you bailed out of jail".

"Are you blind? Look at my face", it was the redhead's turn to get annoyed, "It's not like I'm out there having the time of my life".

"Shak, maybe…", Chino was cut off.

"And who are you again?", Penny asked about him for the second time, this time addressing the officer himself.

"I'm her police escort, ma'am, here to make sure nothing happens", the young man offered his right hand as he also gave a fake smile.

"What interest does the RPD have with this young lady, if you don't mind me asking", the Warrens' employee next asked Chino, actually forgetting about Shakahnna even being there.

The teenager thought that lack of attention was a good thing, though she suspected it wouldn't last long.

"She was assaulted, ma'am, and the complaint will be filed first thing tomorrow morning", he explained, intentionally giving as few details as possible, "I myself wanted to make sure she got home fine".

"How caring of you", the sarcasm in Penny's voice was rather obvious, "And these individuals who attacked you, where are they now?".

She turned back to Shakahnna as she asked, again without asking the teenager if she was hurt, which Chino found to be strange, though not unheard of.

"I don't know!", the teenager was getting more irritated as time went on, "Let's just say that whatever the hell I might've done in the forest, I made up for it earlier tonight".

"Are they dead?", Penny questioned.

"I think _you_ might be the one who's mental", Shakahnna had to take a step back to ensure that the older woman was out of the range of her own fists, "What the fuck kind of a question is that to ask?".

"I just wish to know what's going on so I can tell Mr. and Mrs. Warren when they ask me what you've been up to, that's all", Penny's demeanor calmed, though only a little bit.

She had probably figured that she'll get more cooperation from Shakahnna that way, at least that's what the teenager guessed.

"Fine, so now you know that they be all fine and nice and alive, may my broken ribs and I go to bed or what?", the redhead informed her as she pressed her forearm into her abdomen to emphasize her point.

"Sure, you _do_ remember where your bedroom is, right?", the Warrens' employee answered.

Without another word, Shakahnna turned and headed straight there, looking forward for a few hours of hopefully uninterrupted sleep that would lead to her waking up feeling better once the sun was up. Whether or not she actually did heal by daylight would remain to be seen.

"One more thing, though", Penny called after her, "Just how _did_ you get out without being seen by the guards?".

"It was magic", the teenager scoffed as she kept putting distance between her and the older woman.

"Ma'am, if you don't mind, I want to see what kind of environment she's sleeping in. If I could just…", Chino started addressing Penny even as Shakahnna's chaperone left the large lobby.

"Officer, do whatever you want", was Penny's reply as she exited the lobby to head towards parts unknown, "Just make sure that girl doesn't leave this house till morning".

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Shakahnna checked the clock and saw that it read 2:06 AM. She felt so tired at the moment as her body was recovering from the soreness and pain it had experienced several hours ago, but she still didn't wish to fall asleep as it'd mean her possibly dreaming. She knew she would eventually drift off, though, no matter how hard she tried to resist it. So the teenager snuggled down into the duvet, wrapping it around herself like it could somehow protect her, only a crop of golden red hair being visible as it lay atop the pillow, the rest of her body concealed within the covers. Lifting her head up, she caught a quick glimpse of Chino as he had fallen asleep hours ago after the officer had taken her bed, at her continued insistence, and she had laid an extra mattress on the floor for herself. Seeing him safe and comfortable was enough of a reassurance to be able to rest on her own part, so her eyes slowly started drooping and growing heavy.

The redhead saw herself limping through a closed door, the last of her resources pushing her weight against it, tears of frustration building up in her eyes and her face showed off her frustration as the door would not budge. Her legs were increasingly unable to take the strain of supporting her body as her right leg ceased receiving a flow of blood three or four minutes earlier, due to reasons unknown. Regardless of why, white puss oozed with the last trickle of blood there while her jeans, right sock and shoe were caked with solid crimson. She guessed that she must have lost a few pints of blood already and, if she had lost anymore, she knew she would lose consciousness. 

Shakahnna could already feel her head floating slightly, and she knew that was a bad sign. If only she could sit down to rest, just for a few minutes as her muscles just wouldn't stop throbbing and aching. While she limped, she ran her hand over her exposed abdomen, surprised when she looked down at her finger tips and saw that they were drenched in more even more blood. 

He was gaining on her; she could feel it in the atmosphere. There were no other doors that she could spot anywhere, so she asked herself why this one wouldn't open up. Sighing in further aggravation, the girl placed her head in her hands, feelings of hopelessness descending on her. Her right leg was burning up, and she eventually dared to take a peek at the open wound through the torn material of the jeans, grimacing at the big chunks of red meat that was in place of the normal skin. A deep sense of urgency ran through her since she knew she needed to find Chino and then get them both out of here. 

Wherever here was, the air was thick and tasted humid, slightly acidic. Fuck, she didn't even know where she was. She took a deep breath and placed both her hands on the door in front of her in an effort to keep her balance, although she could feel her legs slowly losing strength. But of course, Shakahnna spotted that a twist lock was located under the round doorknob, and it had been stopping this damn door from opening. She almost laughed out loud in relief before twisting the lock, grinning as she pushed the door open. So she staggered inside.

The teenager was greeted with utter darkness. Her instincts told her to pull back, screaming at her to return to where she came from. But she knew what was back there, so she'd rather take her chances with whatever was through here. She reached around, feeling for a light switch, stepping further and further into the blackness. She could feel one just beyond her reach, so she looked back at the room she had just come from. Considering where the light switch was, she'd need to let the door shut before reaching it, thus completely leaving her in the dark for a few seconds. Looking behind her and in front of her, she knew she didn't really have a choice. So the girl reached forward and her foot slid as the door shut, killing off the small stream of light from outside. Her fingers desperately groped the wall, hearing her own erratic breathing. 

She then stopped breathing entirely as she felt someone or something that was breathing on her neck, so her heart began beating uncontrollably loud. She shook her hands at the hot, sickly sweet air, but felt nothing and no one there. So forgetting that, her fingers finally grasped the light switch, and then heard laughter from the other side of the door before a ~click~ told her that the twist lock had re-sealed the door from outside. Shakahnna's heart sank because the laugh had sounded like Steve's, indicating that even he had betrayed her. She knew that no one ever stayed loyal to her for long but Steve was indeed one person that she had thought would be the exception to that rule. 

Tears threatened to run down her face again. Trying to ignore the sensation, she used her free hand to lash out at whatever was still breathing on her, the pain giving her fresh strength, but her hand still struck air only. She finally flicked the switch, her fingers remaining crossed that the light would work. Her head spun as the response was a slow, tedious slow buzz, but the light eventually illuminated the room she was in. She took a step back as she felt like her heart rose into her mouth. She was going to be sick, wishing that she had left the light off. She wanted to throw up, bile burning at the base of her throat. With her eyes wide as saucers, she looked around and saw that the place was an image of hell. 

A deep crimson curtain trailed down presumably over a window. The once-white walls were now splattered with blood and gore as instruments of torture lining them. Things whose purpose that Shakahnna could not even begin to imagine were everywhere, from racks and stocks to an iron maiden. A large spectator's throne also sat atop a raised platform as a body lay on the floor in front of it, the corpse's hands having been tied behind its back, secured at the wrists and elbows with barbed wire that cut into the poor man's flesh. It was the same with his feet, knees and thighs, blood marring the area around the wire. The head of the carcass was tucked into the body so Shakahnna couldn't quite make out its identity. She wrapped her arms around herself, seeing that the floor was slimy with fresh blood, and quivered, wondering what had happened here. She took a deep breath and prayed the person was still alive before running to it and placed her hand on its neck. There was still a definite pulse, and the man felt her presence and began to thrash about wildly, causing the barbed wire to cut deeper into his arms and legs. It was then that she saw his face for the first time and her words came out half whispered and half-moaned.

"Ste… Steve?", her face contorted in pain, her lips quivering as she fumbled to remove the barbed wire, its sharp ends ripping her skin. 

She couldn't find the end of the damned wire, Chino making it even more difficult due to his inability to remain still. 

"Please don't move...", she pleaded down at him, unsure if he could even hear her. 

A large thud was heard as something unseen impacted with Shakahnna jaw, the force knocking her stumbling backwards. Only one person she knew of could do that, and suddenly she knew why Steve was thrashing, as he had been trying to warn her. She put a left hand to her jaw and looked up, her eyes nearly shutting in terror.

"Oh no, not you. I, no, I can't, not this", she blurted out, tears flowing down her face as her body began shivering. 

The massive figure towered in front of her as it was close to seven feet tall, built of pure muscles which ripped underneath his clothes, his shoulders being wide enough to blur everything behind him. She saw him leering at her, so she instinctively stepped back against the wall that was behind her, anything to put distance between her and the monster. Leave without Steve was obviously not an option, but she was deathly afraid. 

Even as she was feeling the wall, forearms with attached hands appeared from within it and grabbed her shoulders, pulling them towards it and trying to drag her through it. She gripped the first hand before sinking her teeth deep into it, so the wall shuddered in pain and withdrew the arms back. But before she could rejoice, he grabbed her. Being pulled up to her feet, she only had a moment to look over at Steve, seeing the pain on his face and the terror in his eyes.

Not this time, she growled, and with as much force as she could manage, she threw her left leg up behind her. She might go down but she'd be damned if she didn't hurt him first. She heard a satisfying groan as her foot buried itself into his groin, releasing his grip on her and freeing her to lunge a spinning right back fist into his solar plexus, but only to have her fist grabbed. He twisted her arm around, almost crushing her hand with so much pressure that the bones shattered and Shakahnna cried out in pain, her eyes squeezing themselves shut. 

The pain nearly blinded her, white-hot agony shooting through her wrist. But it did not stop her left hand from trying the same thing, this time catching him. Forcing the breath out of him, slackening his grip enough for her to free herself, she next aimed a right front kick, but he grabbed her foot and pulled her left leg out from under her. She landed on her back with a loud crunching sound, groaning from the new pain before she desperately used her right leg to kick him in the kneecap. The bottom of her foot felt like it had come into contact with a tree, and all the strike achieved was the monster being annoyed. In response, he lifted his heavy boot and sent it crashing down on her left ankle, forcing her to throw her head to the side, gritting her teeth and desperately holding in the tears. 

Shakahnna knew that her left ankle was broken, and her right wrist was almost as bad as it hung uselessly, the pain throbbing and making her want to throw up before passing out. The monster pulled her forward by her right leg until she was directly underneath him, all the while trying to kick him with it in an effort to buy her some time. Once having her there, he sat down on her stomach, crushing her already bruised ribs, before leering down at her and leaning forward to lick blood off the side of her face. 

She shuddered before lifting her left hand and raking the nails down the side of his face, ripping and tearing the skin there. Her green eyes still sparkled and flashed with spirit as her fear was placed deep within herself since, as long as he was here with her, he couldn't hurt Steve, and that was worth any amount of fighting and pain. And she was readying to feel more of it as she saw his huge hand being curled into a fist before it was launched towards her face. The impact caused her head to reel backwards, smashing it into the floor and causing her to be dizzy yet again. 

That blow was not with all his power, though, or else she reasoned that his fist would have gone straight through her face. But he then stopped looking at her and turned to where Steve lay, looking at the young man like of a hungry wolf would stare at cattle. Shakahnna was filled with dread, and she couldn't think of what to do as this creature was just too heavy for her to move. She gave into the fear and began shaking. She tried to close her eyes to avoid seeing what would happen next, but she couldn't. But fortunately, the monster then turned back to look down at her instead, his huge left hand wrapping around the whole diameter of her throat.

"Tell me whose fault it is", his voice demanded.

She already knew the answer.

"Mine", she whispered, "All mine, just please let him go, please".

She had no problem begging because, if Steve survived this, just if once someone she loved could live, then it'd be worth anything. She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that the next thing she was going to say would sicken her to her core as the consequences of her actions would surely kill her on the long run. 

"I'll stay this time, please just let him go", she pleaded.

The monster didn't reply verbally, instead standing up to his full height and turning her onto her stomach before bounding her arms and legs together the same way he had done to Chino's. The teenager struggled by instinct alone, her effort being a minor annoyance to him, but causing more pain to her wrists, elbows, knees and ankles as the barbed wire cut into them deeper. 

He finally finished his procedure by kneeling down next to her and gently placing a gag around her mouth, his tenderness currently scaring her more than any blow could. With her helplessly immobile, he smiled as he climbed back up to his feet and made his way over to Steve's inanimate body. She tried to reach forward but her arms and legs were bound too tight to allow any kind of movement, her screams muffled through the gag. 

The redhead shook her head, trying to convince herself this wasn't happening. She tried to appeal to his captor, but he would pay her no heed, not even bothering to remove the gag to hear what she wanted to say. The monster yanked Steve to a standing position and locked his huge right arm around the officer's throat, dragging him towards her prone figure like a helpless rag doll as Chino's eyes opened due to the new movement. The giant then stopped when he was just over her and thrust his knee into the base of Steve's spine, causing the human's face to tighten up and contort in a new wave of pain. 

Seeing that, Shakahnna thrashed and pulled against the wire, which only embedded it even further into her skin, ripping and tearing it apart. Her right side was now totally drenched with blood, moistening her skin and sticking her wet clothes to it. On top of all that, her breathing became shallow as the gag kept threatened to suffocate her if she didn't stop trying to be so active. 

"OH, NO, NO!", Shakahnna screamed through her gag as she witnessed him unsheathing the blade with his left hand.

Her mind yelled for all it was worth as the knife sawed into Steve's throat, his screams cut short by the blood that dribbled out of his mouth and mingling with the blood from the old wounds. The young man gasped, trying to breathe, but it was to no avail as his windpipe was severed. Pints of his blood landed, raining down on Shakahnna. The teenager curled up into a ball as if she could protect herself from it, as if she could block it all out. She could not force herself to shut her eyes, the grizzly spectacle forcing her to watch. Steve's dead body finally collapsed to the ground, his eyes constantly staring at her. 

She had failed again. Shakahnna could barely see anything through her tears, but he knew that the monster was repeatedly pulling until Steve's face eventually came off in his giant hands. The redhead was screaming through the gag again as the skin from Chino's face landed on her lap. She violently convulsed and jerked back, trying to remove it from her. She could feel herself slipping from consciousness and so could he, thus the reasoning behind the massive slap that was placed across her jaw with a lot of force behind it. 

The teenager's head slammed against the floor, and was now resigned to simply lying there without trying to move, as her limbs made movements impossible anyway. She knew she had let an innocent person who had done no wrong be killed. She wanted to die, as she reasoned that'd be the quickest and easiest way out of this hell, since the severe pain in her body was nothing when compared to the torment in her head. She could hear him laughing now as he walked over to the crimson-colored curtain while throwing a wink at her crumbled body. 

"For you princess", she heard him sneering at her, getting ready to reveal the night light outside.

Mocking a bow, he pulled back the curtain. The girl's tears merely continued flowing as she saw Chino nailed to the wall behind the curtain now, dried and crusted blood around the nails that kept his body pinned to the wall behind him. The skin was already filleted from his body, hanging in a grisly mockery of the shirt that once hung from his back. His skin had been torn off his face, revealing a bloody skull, complete with full features that hung limply from the neck. 

It was all her fault he was dead since she had brought him here and she's sworn she'd protect him afterwards. Failing that, she hoped he was already in a better place when that was done to him. She wailed behind her covered mouth between sobs, not understanding why the creature wouldn't just kill her and get it over with.

Chino moved while nailed to the wall, a skinless eyelid raising itself wearily, causing fresh blood to cover the eyeball. His breathing was no more than a wheeze and, with his dying breath, his skinless lips moved one last time, one last sentence managing to escape from the gash that was now his mouth.

"Thanks for protecting me, Panther", the young man uttered.

She finally closed her eyes, wishing to see no more. He blamed her, and rightly so. She had failed, like she always did. She could then hear the monster coming towards her, but she didn't bother looking up. She had promised to stay, after all, so she knew what was about to happen.

Shakahnna bolted upright as she found herself in her bedroom at the Warrens' mansion. Her eyes were wide and her whole body was quivering. Her breath kept coming out in short pants, catching in her chest. She wrapped her arms around herself, repeatedly trying to assure herself it was just a nightmare. She shook her head, trying over and over to stop shivering. She glanced towards the only bed in that room, seeing Chino's outline in the darkness, and noticing that he was peacefully breathing under the blanket. It was only after that she confirmed he was unhurt that she shut her eyes and rocked back and forth while still sitting on the mattress on the floor.


	7. Chapter 7 The crux of Wesker's dismay

"I can't go now, have stuff to do, meeh!", Shakahnna repeated in a mocking voice the same words that Penny blurted out when asked if the older woman could accompany her to the RPD for when Chino's eight-hour shift was over, "And get another chaperone instead of me? How absurd a question is that?…Bitch". 

The teenager sighed.

"Well, why not? It's not like this town is lacking when it comes to uptight people", she followed through, talking to herself, "At least Chino said he be'd coming for a visit once he was done for today".

So sneaking out again wasn't an option, not after Penny had lectured her about how much the Warrens' trust in her was waning after the disappearing act she pulled yesterday evening. Instead, she decided to not give in to the temptation of trying to leave without permission and walked out the back door after she decided to explore the gigantic garden that was there.

She hadn't seen the backyard yesterday, either the first time she was driven here by Mr. Meega or the second time by Donnelly, but she gasped as she visually looked over the garden and noticed that she could not see where it ended due to its enormous size. Among over a score of trees, a stable for horses was located about a hundred yards away from the large doorway she stood at as a light breeze greeted her face. Closing the door behind her, the teenager made sure it could be re-opened from the outside without the aid of a key before she ventured out towards the stable itself. But before she even reached the intended destination, she found herself enjoying the soft feel of grass under her feet and thought that this place would be ideal for a workout.

Why not, she decided. Not like she had anything better to do, stuck in the mansion for hours till her friend arrived. 

She supposed that she could always go and annoy Penny, but that idea just didn't appeal to her as much as spending time alone in an effort to try to clear her mind. Maybe she'd remember something if she relaxed.

The redhead would've given anything to recollect how her parents looked or what their voices sounded like, or even to understand how her abused face from yesterday looked totally fine today, not that she had a problem with that last situation. And even though the choice was to either be lonely or spend the afternoon with the delightful Penny, she preferred to be alone. Besides, the weather outside was pleasant and it wouldn't be bad to spend all day here.

Instead of going to the stables, she stayed in the middle of a grass clearing and started doing katas, beginning with a combination of two punches and two kicks. She hadn't gotten very far in the workout when she heard a male voice from behind her.

"Seems we've brought ourselves quite a little gymnast into our home", the greeting prompted her to stop and turn around.

She saw a middle-aged man, dressed in a business suite and smiling at her from several steps away.

"Who are you?", she tilted her head towards her own left shoulder.

"I take it you don't read the newspapers", the man chuckled as he came a step closer, even as her cautious eyes always followed his movement.

"Not that I member", her gaze never left him, and he wanted to do away with the suspicion that was on her face.

"Oh, of course", he kept smiling, "I had forgotten what my wife said about your memory. I'm Michael Warren".

Shakahnna said nothing. Her eyes only widened a bit and she smiled at the mention of the name.

"The mayor of our city?", Michael approached the redhead, extending his right hand in a manner that she had to admit to herself was friendly.

"Well, politics I can take or leave, I think", she smiled as she gripped his hand, "But what you did, on the other hand, all I can say is thankies. I don't know what else to do or say. But I'm gonna shut up now before I start rambling".

"Elena _did_ inform me that you were rather high-spirited", the older man

"I can imagine it not exactly being in those words though. Which is understandable. I guess am not exactly the most placid soul in the world", the teenager did not intentionally mean to be skeptical but found herself looking around for cameras or other people. 

Her suspicious occurred because here was a man who was acting the total opposite of the individuals she had met in this area so far. Penny was acting like she just plain didn't like her and Elena Warren was never around to begin with. The other employees like Sean Meega and the entrance security were extremely polite, so much so that their effort was over the top, indicating that they definitely weren't being relaxed around her. In contrast to that, here was Michael Warren, probably the most powerful person in this city, and he seemed to genuinely want to talk to her. It felt strange.

"I used to be up to my share of mischief too, when I was younger", the middle-aged man informed her, "But my daughter Joanne, she's nothing like how I was, or I suspect, how you are now. She's the perfect social butterfly. But it's interesting to meet someone who reminds me more of how I used to be during my younger years. And as far as your short record in this fine city goes, I'm sure you didn't mean any harm to those police officers, young lady".

"Uh, thankies", she found herself uttering, "I'm glad someone be's believing me. It's just always nice to know that someone be's on your side. I think I might've upsetted both your wife, Mrs. Warren, and Penny with my disappearing act last night, though".

"Oh?", the mayor seemed to be really surprised.

"I was only leaving to see the police officer who was in charge of investigating my case, that's all I left for", she was quick to point out the half-truth.

"I don't see why there should be a problem with that", Michael added to the conversation, "And sorry I can't stay for longer, but I just saw you practicing from outside the window of my office, so I felt it appropriate to come out and say hello. But if you need anything, don't bother my wife, she's much busier than I am. Instead, feel free to call me or even drop by my office in person. I keep an office in city hall and one right here at home. I _do_ hope, at least until your own parents come forth, that you'll think of here as your home too".

Shakahnna beamed, flashing a wide smile.

"I just can't tell you how much I appreciate that", she informed him.

"I'll see if I can speak to Elena about Penny also", he stated as he nodded and started to turn back around to head towards the mansion, "All this rush to grow up. Kids should be kids as long as they can".

++++++++++++++++

It was amazing how one's perception of the events that were about to unfold directly affected one's sensation of time. Waiting half an hour seemed to last forever when officer Chisholm was nervous.

He never had to imagine himself thinking of doing anything like this before in his life, much less actually carrying these actions out. Making an official complaint against his own colleagues was something that was making him more anxious as the clock winded down to the time he knew he would have to enter chief Irons' domain to speak his mind. 

To make things worse, the only person in this building who was supposed to be on his side was hassling him about the events of the previous night, constantly asking him what the teenager was willing to do and how good she was. And no amount of telling Donnelly that nothing had happened seemed to convince his field partner that it was the truth. So Chino eventually ended up having to tell the older man that he should just go ask Shakahnna for a date and then find out how good she was for himself, and if Donnelly didn't stop pestering him, then Chino would just have to tell her that the older man was interested in asking her out.

That seemed to do the job.

Thus, Donnelly had finally regained his serious demeanor and had even informed the young man of the plan for the day. There was a loud argument in chief Irons' office before the weird captain who always wore his sunglasses indoors walked out of the office itself, leaving the door to close behind him. Hoping that he would be walking out of the chief's bureau with as smug a look on his own face, Chino wanted to knock on Irons' door and ask to speak to him personally right away. But Donnelly had stopped him, informing the younger man that the chief was quickly on the phone, having a second loud argument about the captain with whoever was at the other end of the receiver. All either man could make out was an inaudible grunting and a sporadic interlude of 'that fucking bastard' over and over again. It lasted so long that Chino's anxiety temporarily got the better of him and he had to leave the hallway outside of the chief's office and return to his desk as the knot in his stomach was only becoming tighter. 

Once at his desk, officer Chisholm asked himself if he could still go through with this. He wasn't sure, and he definitely didn't feel as confident as he had last night. But all he had to do was visualize the scenery from the previous evening when four of his colleagues were beating up on the teenager, as well as the look on her face when she passed out. That was all the incentive he needed to not be scared to go ahead with his original plan of lodging the complaint and seeing what happens as a result.

After fifteen more minutes, Donnelly approached his desk and informed him that chief Irons had finished the phone conversation and, in Donnelly's own words, had seemed to make peace with whatever was previously causing him to use such colorful language in such a loud manner.

"Let's go, then", Chino patted his partner on the upper back before they headed towards the room where their chief of police was located.

"Now, whatever happens here will most likely set the tone with how the brass will treat your complaint", Donnelly explained as they neared Irons' closed door, remembering the last time he had been in this place after the forest incident, "So I'm very curious to see _his_ damn reaction to what we say".

The older man knocked on the door three times before Irons told whoever was standing there to come in. So Donnelly opened the door and both he and his partner walked inside.

Neither officer mentioned the fact that the chief's face appeared much more red than usual.

"Sir, we're here to lodge a complaint against some of the guys who are working in this precinct", Donnelly spoke up first before he subtly took one step back, leaving Chino closer to the chief's desk.

The action prompted the younger man to think to himself that he was definitely going to leave Donnelly alone with Shakahnna one day. And the thought of the teenager made him concentrate more seriously on the task at hand.

"What is this about?", Irons looked uninterested.

"Well, sir", Chino cleared his throat as he momentarily looked to the floor and almost stood at attention with his hands behind his back, "Last night, I observed four of our own assaulting the suspect from the woods. Someone may have reported the fact that a handrail was missing from a hallway on the second floor. That's because they bound her there so she couldn't move and then, when I caught them in the act, I was given the same treatment and hit in the face, which is how I got this".

He pointed to his own blackened left eye as he finished talking.

"Really? Do you have anyone who'll corroborate this story of yours, officer…", Irons had to pay attention to Chino's nametag to know who he was talking to, "Chisholm".

"Well, the suspect only, sir", Chino went on, "But officer Donnelly here saw us right afterwards, and he can verify the injuries on the suspect also".

"The beating of a non-resisting suspect is a serious offense", the chief seemed to calm down from his tirade on the phone as he spoke and rested his elbows on the desk before clasping his hands together, "And who were these alleged officers who took part in this beating?".

"I only recognized officer Merton, sir", Chino informed him, "The other three, their names I don't know. I _do_ know that I had seen them in passing before, as well as they were in Raccoon Forest when the suspect was arrested".

"Well, gentlemen, thank you for bringing that to my attention", the chief stood up from his chair, "I assure you both that I'll look into this matter today, starting with that Merton fellow. Neither he nor the three who were with him will be allowed to get away with such conduct in my building".

Having said that, Irons offered his handshake to Chino first and Donnelly second.

"I'll keep you men informed as far as IA's investigation into this matter", he added.

"Thank you, sir", Chino replied as Donnelly nodded without saying anything.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I _do_ have a lot of work to do, starting with what you just brought to me", the chief motioned towards the door.

Both officers walked out of the chief's office, feeling that the short meeting had gone better than expected, but unsure as to what to look forward to on the long run.

Unknown to them, Irons sat back down as the door to his office was closed. While facing his desk, the chief of police grinned as he placed his right elbow on the wooden surface and rested his chin on his right palm.

"Ah, the rank and file", he smiled wider, "So good to my wallet".

With those words, he picked up the phone that sat on his desk. Dialing several numbers, he waited until the person on the other end picked up.

"William? It's Brian", the chief announced into the receiver, "So what's the latest rate for a guinea pig or two, or even four?".

++++++++++++++++

Elena Warren passed the secretary's desk with a smug smile on her face as she nodded a greeting to the younger woman while holding a briefcase in her right hand and the morning newspaper in her left .

"Leslie", she offered a mock greeting as she then opened the door to her husband's office and walked in without knocking.

"Worked like a charm Michael, as I told you it would", she stated with a confident smile as she first closed the door behind her and then laid the paper down on her husband's desk.

The mayor himself stood up from behind his desk and walked towards his wife before kissing her on the left cheek.

"You're _usually_ right, darling", Michael Warren stated with a smile, "So how did your meeting go?".

"Considering what was said in the paper, it went great", Elena replied.

"I actually met her for the first time this morning", the mayor followed through as he returned back to a seated position behind his desk, "She's not quite what I expected. Seems sweet enough".

"Considering that she's a teenage girl, it doesn't surprise me that you think that", Mrs. Warren put him down, "And while we're on the subject, why aren't you firing that secretary of yours? She's mocking me every time I see her".

"Oh, sweetheart, come on", Mr. Warren countered, "She's a good worker, and it'd take years to replace someone who knows me for so long and knows everything about her position".

"Is that really what's on your mind, Michael? It's not because you're looking to have an affair with her, right?", Elena's voice turned colder still.

Michael Warren thought to himself that he would've liked to have an affair with his secretary. Then again, with his wife being who she was, he would've also liked to keep his testicles where they were, and the latter took precedence over the former.

Of course, he didn't say that out loud.

"You should know better than to think that I would want to cheat on you, sweetheart", the older man shook his head, "Those videos you found were just for when you were away. No one can take your place, you know that".

Elena only nodded her head, knowing full well the reason for her husband's rather forced fidelity.

"But about this young lady who's staying with us", the mayor changed the subject as he looked over the paperwork that he had been signing before his wife interrupted, "Do we really need to have her being followed around all the time by Penny? It seems to be unnecessary. And not to mention, Penny?? That old battleaxe could get under the skin of anyone".

"Don't get attached to the girl, darlin", his wife countered as she finally placed her suitcase on the floor, "We may have to dissect her soon".

Her words stopped what her husband was doing at his desk and prompted him to look back up to her.

"Elena, I don't usually ask, but…", the mayor started.

The look his wife gave him was enough to stop him mid-sentence. Elena Warren said nothing, and it was enough to make Michael remember the arrangement in this city. He didn't ask, and his wife's employers didn't inform him of anything more than he needed to know. That way, both he and Umbrella Inc got what they wanted.

Thus Michael knew to leave the matter alone.

++++++++++++++++++

"Still no luck despite all the effort, huh?", Chino asked her as he was seated at his desk, looking over various documents that scattered its surface.

"Nu uh natta", Shakahnna shook her head as she kept pacing back and forth in a straight line next to the desk itself.

There was a chair available right next to the officer's station, one that was facing Chino's chair, but she was feeling too anxious to sit down at the moment, especially given her inability to remember anything that took place before her waking up at the forest.

"And whenever I be trying, I keep getting that same pain in my head", she added in a frustrated tone, "The same one I gotted back when I was in holding at the basement".

"So that leaves us where we were before", the officer went on, staring ahead as he remained seated instead of looking up at her.

A pause.

"But doesn't change what's gonna happen at trial for you", he followed through as he then stared up to lock eyes with her, "You still _do_ have the option of pleading self-defense. Maybe you were attacked, or maybe involved in an accident. At least that's _my_ guess as far as why you can't remember anything. I mean, nothing was found in your vicinity that indicated who you were or what happened. It's like you appeared out of thin air, almost".

"I really don't understand what was happening then", the redhead finally sat down in her own chair to make conversation easier, "When I saw you guys, I really thought you were coming to get me. And I guess you were, but not the way I thought".

"So after a traumatic event that made you lose your memory, you didn't know where you were and who that couple or the armed uniforms were who were interacting with you", Chino added, trying to make her understand that he wanted her to remember that testimony for her future court date, "Having been awake for such a short time, you might've thought in your own mind that these individuals were trying to hurt you. And the rest of your ability when it comes to fighting back was just instinct, I'm guessing from years of training before your memory went blank".

"You mean I don't be just a natural?", she smirked.

"To be honest, I don't care, Shak", Chino countered, "I'm more concerned with how this trial is gonna go in a few days".

"You really think there's a chance be's a hell that I'll get off without jail time?", the teenager's expression became slightly more serious.

"Yeah, a _chance_", he stated, "That's why your story has to be convincing. Remember what I said. You couldn't make out what the Rune couple or our guys here were saying. You heard them saying things or screaming out orders, but you couldn't make out their words since you had just woken up. And when our guys came at you, you reacted because you thought you were being attacked".

"It's not so much as not understanding", Shakahnna placed a right hand over her own forehead as she recalled, "I did understand. I just didn't trust anyone there to not try something dangerous".

"Well, take my word for it, Shak, you _didn't_ understand a word that the Runes or us said, got me?", his eyes locked with hers as he nodded while asking the question.

"Ah, of course", she nodded back, "So you want me to perjure myself".

She smiled as she asked.

"Shak, do you wanna to be truthful or do you wanna be with me?", the young man countered.

"Come again?", she was confused.

"I've been looking over the necessary red tape. I think that, if it came down to a 50-50 draw, then judge Jackson may be more likely to let you go without sanctions if you have someplace permanent to reside in. That place could be with me at home", he explained, "It'd be good for your case, plus I'd like you to be there. If you want, that is".

"You're fucking kidding, right?", she replied, "Like this is just something to play with my head. Did Donnelly put you up to this?".

"No, actually, he doesn't know anything about this", he smirked back, "As much as I'd love to see his face when he does find out".

"I'm starting to rub off on you, Chino", Shakahnna winked, "That's the kind of thing _I_ would say. Tormenting Donnelly isn't just a hobby, you know. It's a way of life".

"But about what I said?", the officer went back to his original question.

"Are you really serious about this? Because you've not known me for long", she needed to be sure.

"Yeah, I'm very serious", he smiled back, "Besides, it'd cut down on the commuting between my place and the Warrens'".

"Hey rookie", the third voice interrupted the conversation a few feet away from the desk.

Both Chino and Shakahnna looked up to see an unknown officer standing two steps away at his full height. The man's tone of voice alone indicated that he wasn't here for a friendly visit.

"It's people like you who's what's wrong with this fucking establishment", the older man spat out, "How are we supposed to fight anything when we can't be united among ourselves? Ratting out your colleagues just so you can get laid, that's just low".

Before officer Chisholm even had a chance to respond, Shakahnna blurted out a reply first.

"Hey Neanderthal", the teenager countered, "You know that's why your boyfriend doesn't take his cock out of your mouth right? Cause you come out with shit like that every time he does!".

The man appeared slightly shocked at her answer, but regained his composure soon enough.

"Who's your little skank, rookie?", he ignored her and addressed Chino again.

"Dude, I don't have time for this. Get lost", officer Chisholm replied as he began to turn his attention back to the redhead, keeping watch of the other man out of the corner of his eye in case the other man did not leave without escalating the verbal confrontation.

"I'm not the only one you have to deal with, asshole", the older officer didn't leave as was hoped, "There's a lot of talk about all the trouble you've caused. You're kidding yourself if you think you're gonna last here".

Shakahnna was planning to lecture him, but instead saw that he was finally turning to leave, thus she rested her right elbow on the desk and raised that forearm vertically into the air before thrusting her middle finger at the man.

"How long does that have been going on for?", she asked Chino as soon as the other officer was out of hearing range.

"Doesn't matter. Eric told me what to expect as soon as we complained to the chief", the young man answered.

"And it all be's cause of me", she sighed.

"Shak, that's not important now. I'm much more curious about what we were talking before doofus there showed up", the officer added.

"Would that not make things, you know, complicated?", she looked nervous, "And it's not like I don't _want_ to do this. Just that, there isn't gonna be anything expected of me, right?".

"No, of course not. And yeah, I suppose it _would_ make things more complicated", Chino tried to choose his words carefully, "But if it _would_ help increase the odds of you getting out of this charge, and also, you'll need to have a place to stay whenever you're done with the courts anyway, which you will sooner or later anyway".

"Uh, yeah, makes sense", she uttered, not looking him in the eyes all of a sudden.

"Unless of course you'd rather stay with the Warrens, I mean, which would make sense too since it's a huge place and they have maids and stuff", he followed through.

"God no! I don't wanna stay with the Warrens!", she countered, staring back at him again, as if the statement he had made was obviously crazy.

"Oh", Chino laughed, "Then you can let me know whenever you want if you wanna do this, and if you do, then I'll do the paperwork. If you don't mention this later on, then that's the end of it, OK?".

"I don't need to think to make up my mind", she informed him, "Put the adoption application in. Just don't be expecting me to call you 'daddy', that'd just be worrying".

"Great, then we can do that today after I'm done here", Chino tapped the surface of his desk as he leaned back, appearing more satisfied than he felt before he had asked.

"Just to re-iterate, nothing funny, right?", Shakahnna felt it necessary to ask for the second time.

"Only my attempts at cooking, but nothing else, I promise", the young man responded before changing the subject, "So you know when and where, right?".

"Tuesday morning, courtroom 407, be there at 9 AM at the latest, I member", she repeated the information that she had been served on the subpoena, "And I member waking up in the woods and not be'd able to make out anything that was said to me by either that couple or the officers. So I member only reacting when I thought I was being attacked. I felt terrible when I founded out that I had hurted some people by the time I woke up the next morning and I could talk to people".

"Very good, Shak. I feel good about our chances in front of Jackson, then. Especially if I add that you've been cooperating fully since being detained", the officer smiled back.

"By the way, I didn't be lying about that very last part of that little speech I gived. The not understanding part in the woods is a lie, well obviously, but not the part afterwards about waking up in jail", she added.

"Yeah, I know, Shak. Plus I have a final back-up plan in case the trial needs it", Chino sighed as he wasn't sure on how he wanted to word his thoughts, "But the ambush of Merton and his cronies can't be good for the prosecution's case. I don't have a problem testifying that you were attacked by the same civil servants who are accusing you of hurting them to begin with".

"Oh! Geez, Chino, sunshine, that's news", she was surprised, "But… In all honesty … I really _do_ think you have a problem with doing that. I mean how can you not?".

"If I have to, then yeah, I will. Judge Jackson is very strict, but he's also very law and order, I know that much about him. He'll be outraged if he heard what those four assholes were doing, and if I have to use that against them, so be it", he shot back with more resolve that she expected him to have.

Shakahnna gripped his wrist as she brought her face closer to his.

"Sunshine, are you sure about this? This is gonna be catty if Irons doesn't believe you and you seem to be going over his head, thereby insulting his pride and telling a judge who's gonna burn 'em at the stake", she whispered.

Chino only sighed back, but it wasn't in response to her. Instead, it was because he caught a glimpse of two other uniformed officers who approached his desk from behind the teenager's seat. The young man was bracing himself for another verbal confrontation with colleagues whose name he never had time to find out before he became famous by lodging a complaint against four RPD employees. Such news apparently traveled fast within this building.

"Officer Chisholm, is it?", the first man asked even after he had read the first and last names on the small plaque that sat at the front of the desk.

Chino guessed that Shakahnna must've read the expression on his face, as the teenager stood up with an annoyed look on her face and then turned to face the two men who had arrived, glaring at them.

"You must be Shakahnna", the second officer who approached them said, offering his right hand towards the redhead.

The men's action turned out to be friendlier than she expected, so she turned her head back around to look at the officer who was behind the desk, seeing the same surprised expression on Chino's face.

"I had the pleasure of working with officer Merton about a year ago", the first officer explained to them both as the teenager reluctantly shook the second officer's hand, "Just minus the pleasure. I tried to put up with his bullshit till I couldn't take it any more".

"All of a sudden I'm getting the feeling that this isn't gonna be the usual kind of visit I've been getting over here as of late", Chino stood up from behind his desk to greet the two visitors while Shakahnna found it easier to sit back down and relax.

"Yeah, I figured you'd be getting hassle after what you said to Irons", the first officer continued as he extended his own right hand towards Chino, who gripped it tight, "Name's Samuel Yuen".

"Stephen Chisholm", Chino replied with a smile.

"Just wanted to make sure you knew that not everyone here is anally retentive enough to think that you're committing the cardinal sin here", Yuen went on, "In fact, I'm not surprised at all that Merton got himself into hot water like this. It was hard enough to last several months with that loser, so it was all I could do to be happy to leave once my request to be re-assigned was granted".

"I'm David, don't know anybody who's involved, but I partner with Branagh a lot", the second officer added, addressing Shakahnna more so than Chino, "He was telling us both how nice you are and, I don't trust anyone who could hurt such a pretty face".

In an uncharacteristic show of shyness, the teenager blushed as she smiled and placed both hands over her face so she could only see through the space between her thumb and index finger.

"See? I told you that good officers like this existed, Shak", Chino smirked as he pointed towards the two men, prompting her to turn towards him with a mockery of a shocked face.

The only action she could think of doing was to stick her tongue out at him.

+++++++++++++++++++++  


"Just sit back on the sofa there and we can start, miss", doctor Stoyanov recommended in his well-furnished office.

"All we be'd doing last time was talk about how things have been since the whole forest thing and how things are at the Warrens' home. If I couldn't member anything after so much trying for ages now, what makes you think I'll member stuff now?", the teenager asked even as she complied with the request.

"Actually, I'm not sure if you will", the doctor admitted, "But we're all here to try to help you regain your memory, I assume, and our combined effort will hopefully prove to be fruitful".

"I for one think that this is a nonsensical waste of time", Penny made her thoughts known as she was standing with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

She relaxed her arms as she turned her face towards the counselor.

"No offense, doctor", she added before she returned to her previous standing position.

"None taken", the elderly man chuckled back, silently wondering why that woman was even there.

It's not like the mayor couldn't sign his personal check and simply send it with the teenager who reported to his office for the scheduled appointment, he thought.

"Maybe it's a waste of time and maybe not", officer Chisholm added as he took a seat on one of the many chairs that were lined up by the wall of the office for anyone who accompanied a patient, "Either way, we're here because part of the bail stipulation required that she have this session".

"Now think of a safe place, miss…", Stoyanov had to take another look at the document that identified his current patient while the teenager was lying sideways on the long couch.

"I'm sorry, I don't see your last name", he informed her as he looked back up towards the patient.

"That's because I kinda don't have one", she lifted her head to make eye contact with him before laying the back of her head back down on the fancy cushion and closing her eyes, "So Shak does fine".

"I want you to try and relax, Shak", Stoyanov went on as both Chino and Penny were watching him from their own points of view. 

The experienced therapist began to turn a coin round his index finger and thumb. "Stay focused here" he gently ordered, "When you hear this coin here drop, you'll be back with us here".

The teenager tried to unwind as much as possible, with limited success, as she unintentionally closed her eyes twice before gently opening them again.

"What's your name?", the counselor asked first.

"Shakahnna", the redhead calmly replied.

"Who are you currently living with?", was the second question.

"The Warrens at their home", her answer was slightly groggy, suggesting that the hypnosis was starting to take effect. 

Her pale eyelids delicately shut down.

"What day is it today?".

"Saturday", came the mechanical answer.

"Can you tell me what happened 27 days ago?", Mason asked next.

"Cold…Men… Chase… Hurts…", she started mumbling, indicating to him that she was already in a sleepy stance.

"Do you know who the men are?".

"Bad", was the only word she uttered while she hugged herself as if she was cold, "Eyes mean".

"What about before that?".

"Couple angry", she whispered, eyes still closed, but with her head shaking from side to side, "So cold! Burning up!".

"It's OK, Shakahnna, stay with us", Stoyanov urged, "And try to remember what happened before you saw the couple".

"Can't breathe! Tight… Hurts…", she gasped, "Can't breathe… Can't move… Not going to let you do this…Don't touch me!".

"Who is me? Who are you talking to", the doctor followed through as Chino and even Penny appeared to be more interested.

Stoyanov was hoping, and expecting, a clear answer. Instead, he heard the teenager opening her mouth and letting out an ear-piercing scream as she then tried to hide her face behind both hands.

Images of a giant, four-armed creature flashed in front of the teenager's mind's eye. The monster reached towards her, but instead of taking her own life, grasped the head of a person who was unseen next to her. The beast then smiled as it easily took that man's head off by twisting it and then lifting it in its large, three-fingered hand. It then grinned at her as it effortlessly crushed the severed head between those three powerful fingers and watched as blood and bone fragments ran down its hand before spilling onto the ground below.

The scenery was next changed to one where a dark-haired human being was lifting a lifeless body off the ground with just one hand. Whether or not he had killed the deceased individual was irrelevant, but the maniacal look on his eyes was enough to convince her that he was happy the corpse was there. The man kept his hold on the body, making sure it remained dangling a foot above the ground, and then used his free hand to summon a green mystical energy from the victim. The corpse twitched and convulsed for several seconds as the green force emerged from it and entered the man's free hand, and only stopped moving involuntarily when the flow of energy had ceased. By that time, however, the body that appeared to have been recently killed a short time ago was now a withered corpse that seemed to have died years ago. The man finally released his hold on the corpse and, to Shakahnna's horror, the body fell on the ground and shattered into countless pieces of bone and dust.

"I WON'T LET YOU DO THIS!!", she yelled out between indistinct screams, clawing at things that weren't there.

It was enough for Chino to bolt to Stoyanov's side as he was becoming increasingly worried. The surprised look on the doctor's face didn't help answer the young man's questions, so he just placed a hand on Stoyanov's shoulder and broke the counselor's stare towards his patient.

"Dude, can you get her out of this?", Chino asked, speaking loud enough to be heard over her screams.

"Y… Yes, of course", the doctor blurted out as he hurried to take a hold of the coin he had in his pocket and threw it next to his feet on the floor.

The result was that the teenager's screaming stopped and she shook her head, calmly sitting her upper body back up on the sofa.

"Shak, are you OK?", Chino was the first to ask.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?", the redhead asked with a smile, "Do _you_ be OK? You look pale".

She had no idea why three sets of eyes were looking back at her like she was the one who had seen a ghost.

"You be'd dropping your coin, doc", she pointed towards the floor, "So did I say anything useful?".

+++++++++++++++++++++ 

Captain Albert Wesker hadn't gotten used to his new rank within the RPD yet.

The promotion that bypassed the titles of sergeant and lieutenant to make him into the captain he was now could've brought some suspicions from the media if he hadn't already been a favorite topic of conversation as far as reporters were concerned. The fate of the officer who survived an exchange of gunfire while his partner died and who then apprehended one of the city's most wanted fugitives was a piece of good news that the newspapers were happy to print.

The relatively short duration he spent as a police officer before being elevated to the high rank of captain also wasn't a surprise to all those police department employees who were first and foremost receiving a bigger paycheck from the largest financial supplier to Raccoon City. For the officers who were not linked in any way to Umbrella Inc and were members of the police department only, the promotion was seen as one given to a man who had plenty of experience in a closely-related field, even if it wasn't strictly with the RPD.

Either way, the room that Wesker's few belongings had been moved into was about as spacious as his previous office in Umbrella's underground facility. He now had a larger desk and the addition of a large sofa, which he never planned to use anyway.

His assignments were quickly changed. He was no longer to go out alone as routine patrol was seen as a task that was below someone of his position. The fact that he was the same person he used to be the day before he received the promotion was one that Wesker did not try to point out as he was sure his statement would fall on deaf ears. Besides, he was a captain for a reason, and that was because Umbrella needed his help. Doing his pseudo job as he only saw fit was one thing, but the more important mission was to protect Umbrella from scrutiny while his original employer guarded the country against biological weapons.

His first maneuver was to take over as overseer of the large amount of anonymous tips that poured into the police district by either phone messages, letters or emails sent through the RPD's web site. Sergeants usually preferred to look over such tips and assign patrol officers to investigate them if the message was deemed credible and its location was within the patrol officers' beat. As captain, Wesker made sure that he was responsible for filtering out every tip that his station received. Every nameless message that even hinted towards a suspicious activity that may need to be investigated at one of the many Umbrella sites around Raccoon City was discarded and only the rest were then given out to the handful of sergeants within the building.

Wesker's paperwork also increased along with his rank and police pay. 

He had found the amount of paperwork done by a regular officer to be nearly unbearable, but as captain, he found himself staring at piles of paper that were easily twice as high. His mouth twisted into a disgusted grin as he surveyed the small mountain of documents that were waiting on his desk every time he entered his office.

It was during a typical assault upon the paperwork in a bold effort to reduce it that he heard a knock at his office door. He retained the pen that he was using to scribble down notes on a loose piece of paper with his right hand and kept his left hand on the keyboard that he was using to type a report into the personal computer. He also looked up as he momentarily stopped working and spoke out loud "Yes?".

Joseph Frost opened the door to his office and stepped inside before closing it behind him.

"Captain", he nodded, partly out of respect and partly because he hadn't seen the older man for several days.

"How are you, Joseph?", what may have been a hint of a smile crept upon the older man's face, but was quickly replaced with his smooth demeanor as he kept eyeing the younger man from behind his dark lenses.

"Things aren't bad, I suppose", officer Frost shrugged, "No one's taken over your desk yet. But I see you're making the streets a safer place through paperwork like me. I had today set aside for no field work so I could concentrate on that too".

"Safety, right", Wesker grinned momentarily, sizing up the pile of papers sitting in front of him, "Sometimes I believe the only safety we're guaranteeing is the profit of the timber industry by ensuring they never run out of business". 

"Do you even _take_ a lunch break any more, Wes?", Frost approached his desk as he spoke.

"Not unless you want to have the paperwork run so rampant that it'll be too big to allow you to enter this office from outside".

"Well, some of the guys were wondering how you were", the patrol officer told him, "We hadn't see much of you since that prick Bradshell kicked the bucket and you were sent here. You really _should_ come over one day to the lunchroom, the gym or the lockerooms".

"I suppose today is one day", Wesker answered as he stood up. 

Granted the mission for his original employer came first, but even he had to admit that it was nice to be social with his colleagues at the police station, and nicer still that he was being invited back to see them. The paperwork wasn't going anywhere, and he could always catch up tomorrow if he relaxed for the second half of today. Besides, the best way to find out what officers know or suspect about Umbrella was to infiltrate their ranks. At least that's what he could tell himself and his superiors from White Umbrella.

"How about if we all get together after hours at...", the older man started to think of the best place for a social occasion with many officers at once.

He was interrupted by an announcement emanating from a radio that was inside his desk. Despite being within a closed drawer, he could still hear the voice of an operator notifying him of urgent news. Both men knew it must be an emergency bulletin if a captain was being notified the same way that all officers in the station were, as it was a general message to every employee within the building.

"Hostage situation at Raccoon First National Bank on Orange Street. Officer down. Multiple suspects, described as being armed and dangerous. Patrol cars on the way. Captains organize the staff to respond", that was followed by a few seconds of static.

Frost's eyes locked with Wesker's as the younger officer waited for orders, if there were any.

"Are we gonna respond or wait to see if the situation's under control by those en route?".

"Do you have your vest on?", the captain questioned.

"Yeah, I never take it off while on the job", Frost told him.

"Good, me neither. We'll take my car".

----------------------------------

Beads of sweat were slowly flowing down his forehead and face as the loud blare of the sirens sounded in his ears. Captain Wesker ardently tried to ignore both factors while he guided the unmarked police car with the attached bright red alarm on its roof through the streets of Raccoon City. The vehicle was speeding down the roads much faster than was allowed by the legal speed limit, and while police personnel were obviously exempt from that regulation during emergencies, it did not make the current endeavor of reaching their destination as fast as possible any less dangerous for him, his passenger or the many people outside.

He swore under his breath at the weather for the day that was much hotter than usual for that time of year, even as both front rolled-down windows blew a steady current of warm wind into his face and into Joseph's face as the younger man was buckled in the front passenger seat. The stress of having an officer down somewhere in the city accumulated with the hazard of speeding through crowded streets was bad enough, but Wesker now also had to contend with the perspiration that covered the top half of his face and threatened to fog his sunglasses. He could've wiped his face and glasses clean with his sleeve if he had a few seconds, but the current situation simply didn't allow that luxury. It was also possible that the constant inrush of air that struck his face would eventually dry the sweat off him, but that was assuming the ride lasted long enough.

Either way, he and officer Frost had more important matters than the relative heat and loud noise on their minds at the moment.

Another full minute of driving passed. Red lights and stop signs were paid no heed before their vehicle came to a sudden and harsh stop. Realizing that they approached their designated street intersection, as well as seeing the small cluster of marked patrol cars that were stopped haphazardly in front of a building, Wesker pressed his right foot against the brake pedal and brought his own vehicle to a halt after the car skidded for five yards before finally stopping. Both he and Frost were roughly pushed forward in their seated position. Instead of coming into contact with the dashboard or windshield, though, they were then pulled back towards the seats due to the seatbelts.

Both men quickly unfastened the seatbelts and exited the vehicle, handguns drawn and not paying any attention to the massive traffic that was building up from behind and in front of the group of police cars. While the arbitrary parking of their automobiles in the middle of the street had left a congestion of dozens of cars that could not pass on either side of the two-way street, the emergency at hand was much more important to every officer there.

Wesker and Frost did not need long to spot a colleague who was wounded. The injured man was partly reclined in the backseat of a patrol car that had all four of its doors open. The man's lower body was protruding out of the right side of the vehicle. The officer's back was also being supported from behind him by one of his colleagues while his right leg was raised at a 45 degree angle to the ground by a third uniformed man. As he was kept in such a position, a woman who was dressed in civilian clothes was busy bandaging his bloodied right foot after she had already wrapped a tight tourniquet around the man's right ankle.

"Captain Wesker", the Umbrella operative identified himself as he and Frost approached a nearby officer, "What's the situation?".

It was only then that he noticed the fact that he and Frost were the only ones who still had their weapons drawn.

"We were told we had suspects who were armed and dangerous?", Frost apparently noticed it too, mentioning to the new man.

"Yes, sir", the man addressed Wesker back, "Seems to be a false alarm. As far as we can tell, that vehicle over there crashed through the front window of that bank and went halfway through its lobby".

He pointed to a dark red-colored car whose front half was invisible from their point of view as it was partially inside a building, while only its back tires and rear lights were still resting on the sidewalk amid broken glass and smoke.

"We think the driver mistook the accelerator for the brake as he was making a U-turn, sir", the officer at the scene explained.

"How does this translate into half the RPD being dispatched here?", Wesker asked in his usual suave fashion without looking at the man, but instead surveying the accident area with his eyes.

"See, then officer Gray there happened to be on foot patrol at the time", the man pointed at the wounded man who was being helped in the backseat of the police car, "He thought it was an attempted bank robbery and rushed towards the scene. But as he was withdrawing his gun, he undid the safety too fast and apparently shot himself in the foot".

"Wha...?", Frost was feeling incredulous.

"You're telling me that this entire call was a mistake?", Wesker's voice became slightly colder as he turned to the officer who was informing them of the situation, "Then who called in the presence of armed suspects??".

The man he was addressing swallowed hard, detesting the fixed stare he was getting from a superior who was much too calm for his liking. He knew he wasn't to blame for the erroneous call, but that didn't keep him from feeling chills down his spine and he tried hard to keep from shaking involuntarily.

"That would be an employee from that bank there, uh, sir", the nervous man pointed towards the building where the crash had occurred, "Someone from inside called 911 after they heard the gunshot and saw Gray on the sidewalk bleeding as the passengers were getting out of the car".

Wesker said nothing. He just continued locking eyes with the officer from behind his dark glasses. Frost was the only one who noticed that the captain's jaw was tightening, revealing how he felt. Although the other officer were aware of the captain's displeasure, Frost was alone in picking up the subtle facial changes which indicated that Wesker might be ready to blow. After all, the captain didn't like wasting time when there was more urgent work to be done elsewhere.

"I think Gray must've yelled out for the passengers to freeze before he shot himself", the unfortunate officer started stuttering, "So the... uh... employee thought he had been shot. Uh...".

The Umbrella spy's facial features finally relaxed.

"Has an emergency medical unit been summoned?", he then questioned.

"Y.. Yes, sir, it's on its way now", the man pointed behind him, not realizing his aim was directing at nowhere in specific.

"And the passengers of that vehicle. How are they?", the next question from his superior followed the first almost before he had finished talking as Wesker and Frost holstered their weapons.

"There were three of them. They're fine, just shaken up. Seatbelts saved 'em. That woman who's helping Gray is actually one of them. She's apparently a nurse at Raccoon City Hospital", the relieved man exhaled.

"Alright, officer...", Wesker leaned his face slightly forward to read the man's identification tag, "... Jenkins. Good work. Let's clear this mess off the street, then".

The captain turned around and looked towards his unmarked car that sat in the middle of the street among several patrol vehicles.

"Joseph, I've been working very hard 24/7 to keep our agency from being something more than a joke to the criminals on the streets. Why am I constantly hampered in my efforts?", he uttered to himself with a frustrated sigh, "Better free the street of this clutter before an ambulance crashes into it".


	8. Chapter 8 Umbrella's big picture

July 8th, 1995

It had been exactly thirty days since Mrs. Warren had surprised Shakahnna by paying the bail money, thus making it possible to avoid awaiting trial in the county jail. But now, the big day had finally arrived and the teenager was stuck in a proper suit which Penny had given her the night before. 

The clothes were so uncomfortable that it felt more like she was in the middle of a stranglehold. At best, it was like being strapped into a harness or something equally un-natural. But then again, she knew that if her appearance was going to help impress the judge who was in charge of deciding her guilt or innocence, along with whatever sentence she received if it was the latter, then one day of discomfort would definitely be a price worth paying. 

She attempted to do something with her hair. That went well, she noted to herself sarcastically as she stared into the mirror. So instead of wasting more time on this atrocity, she settled with the regular ponytail that she was used whenever she wanted to leave the red hair out of her face.

Shakahnna was also not surprised to hear that the mayor, and her adoptive father, was going to be the one who accompanied her to court as opposed to Penny. The teenager guessed that the Warrens wanted to have either the mayor or his wife be by her side whenever she was in the public eye and there was a chance a camera or reporter may be around. On the other hand, Penny was in charge of following her around whenever the redhead wasn't going to have her picture taken. So she saw Sean Meega for the second time in a month when she was informed that he would be driving her and Mr. Warren to court.

------------------------------------

"You look all professional in your suit, that's good", Michael Warren mentioned as the 4-door sedan was rolling towards their destination.

The mayor was in the front passenger seat while Sean was behind the wheel, always the silent man, as he seemed to not say a word unless he absolutely had to, opting to keep his eyes on the road only.

"Does that mean that I can't be rolling around in mud?", she smiled as she locked eyes with the middle-aged man in the rearview mirror. 

"Well, maybe later on today, _if_ things go as well as we hope in court", the mayor replied, "But first, I want you to know what to expect once we get there, OK?".

"Like what?", the redhead asked, seeing the first and only reaction on Sean's face as the driver chuckled at her question.

"Humor the dumb amnesiac on this one, please", she did her best to smile while starting to feel nervous about the day's plans for the first time.

"It's just that, because of who I am and who Elena is, the press is interested in following this story", the mayor explained.

She felt like asking him if that's the reason why he was accompanying her instead of Penny, but she decided to just be grateful for Penny not being there. Plus, the mayor seemed to be the only person who lived in the entire mansion that she actually had a somewhat positive rapport with, and she didn't wish to ruin that aspect of her temporary home life.

"A real media circus, huh?", she spoke out loud instead.

"There _may_ be a few reporters, yes, but don't worry, they only want to ask you a few questions, stuff like that", the much older man answered, "You really have nothing to worry about".

Shakahnna only looked out the passenger window, wishing she could take his word for it.

"I just be's a little nervous", she finally whispered.

"Approaching the courthouse now, sir", Sean Meega spoke up for the first time, though he was sure his front seat passenger knew where this place was, seeing how it was within close proximity of his office.

The mayor had hinted at a few reporters who would be asking some civilized questions. What the teenager saw, instead, was what she could only describe as a mob of approximately thirty people, some with cameras of various sizes, some with portable microphones. The large group was scattered in a semicircle right outside the main entrance of the criminal court branch of city hall, either seated on the sidewalk or standing on their feet as they sipped coffee or smoked a cigarette.

Meega parked the car in across the street from the building and climbed out of the driver's seat like he hadn't even noticed the dozens of eyes that were immediately cast on his visage. If Shakahnna hadn't been so surprised at the swarm of reporters who were now crossing the street to reach the parked car she was in, she would've realized that it was due to the employee's years of experience accompanying either the mayor himself or his wife. But she didn't care about that at the moment because, as she shut the car door after stepping outside the vehicle, she turned around and the scenery was reminiscent of a herd of buffalo stampeding towards her. She took a step back in utter horror, but then realized that her back was against the side of the car anyway, so unless she was thinking of missing her court date and having an arrest warrant out on her for doing so, she had to get past this mob to get inside. 

The teenager spotted Meega gracefully stepping by her right side, so as to fence her in while the mayor was to her left. Not having to be burdened by the reporters' unwanted attention, Meega was more able to remain composed and pave a way through the human blockade that had constructed around them.

The first of many journalists who reached the trio was a woman who shoved a microphone in her direction as she yelled out something that could've been ancient Sumerian for all Shakahnna understood. That first woman was quickly joined by many others like her who pushed similar speaking devices towards both her and the mayor's face. The shock was enough to drive her palms towards her face before she instinctively ducked her upper body towards the left, which happened to be the side where the mayor was. Unknown to her, Michael Warren positively beamed, placing his right arm around her shoulders.

"Mr. mayor, what do you expect to happen here today?", a journalist inquired in about as loud a manner as he could muster.

"People, people, please", Mr. Warren was busy with a shooing act of his left arm, "We're just here in the interest of justice because we want to see our child be treated in a fair way. Look at this lovely child, the claims against her are totally unfounded. Does this look like someone who could hurt a fly?".

Several more journalists asked questions at the same time, making it impossible to understand anything at the time, as the teenager found the will to lift her head back up and away from her own hands and the trio slowly made its way towards the main entrance.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please, no more questions for now", the mayor continued, constantly being the only one who was talking as Sean was concentrated on his job as the passengers' escort and Shakahnna was trying hard to not give in to the temptation of punching the next individual who invaded her personal space.

"We have faith in the great judges who are nobly defending the rights of every citizen in this fine city", Michael Warren continued as they came closer to their destination, "And I'm sure they'll make this situation right for our family just like they do for countless other families everywhere".

They must've finally reached the court building because Mr. Warren then opened the front door leading to the metal detectors in the lobby, guiding the spooked teen inside under his own arm. Sean quickly followed the pair, where as the reporters almost miraculously gave up on the short chase, preferring to pair up each radio, TV or newspaper camera operator to that one's announcer. Neither the mayor's small group nor the sheriff's deputies who were operating the metal detectors paid much attention to the introductions that each announcer was reciting once their own piece had finished.

The mayor's original plan had been to go through the general entrance just like all defendants, witnesses and attorneys who were set to be in court that day, if for no other reason than just to keep up appearances. But one look at the fifty-odd individuals who were standing in a line that moved very slowly convinced Mr. Warren to use the employee entrance instead, which was a second metal detector that was further from the front door. The middle-aged motioned for Shakahnna to follow him, which she did, even though she had no idea where the trio was headed, and wondered why they were going through an entrance that was clearly marked "Employees With ID".   
Regardless of the nagging questions in her mind, one nod from Sean towards the first Sheriff's deputy prompted the uniformed guard on duty to motion the trio towards the second, lesser-used detector. Mr. Warren and his assistant had ample knowledge of procedure, as they both nonchalantly withdrew keys, a lighter and a metal pen before placing them next in a small, plastic basket. All three then walked through it and, hearing no sound whatsoever, proceeded to the courtroom.

-------------------------------------

Courtroom 407 was packed, standing room only, though Shakahnna suspected it was due more to the middle-aged man who was sitting to her right, and less because everyone here had a hearing to appear in. But sitting on the first bench behind the railing that separated the audience from the district attorney and public defender desks, with her seated between her adoptive father and Sean Meega, she had to admit that she wasn't paying much attention to what the judge was saying on the bench. Instead, the teenager's face lit up and her attention was constantly fixed on the doorway to the side of the room. That's because that doorway was the one used to escort defendants who were brought in custody from the county jail and were waiting in the basement for their cases to be heard. And acting as those escorts for the day's trials were officers Chisholm and Donnelly from the RPD.

Chino seemed to be nervous as he continuously pushed locks of his hair away from his face. He appeared so edgy, in fact, that he didn't even notice the teenager's presence in the room until Donnelly nudged him in the ribs with his right elbow. Looking back at the older officer, Chino saw that his partner carried an annoyed look on his face as he gestured to a direction of the courtroom with his own head. The younger cop stared into that particular way and was delighted when he saw her seated next to the mayor.

The redhead smiled even wider when she realized that he had finally seen her, so she put her left hand next to her face and waved using only her fingers. She then followed through with a more serious nod as her eyes locked with Donnelly's facade, and returned to making faces to the younger officer himself.

"Case number one, your honor, the People Vs Shakahnna", the court employee announced to the overcrowded room.

The teenager herself didn't even hear the declaration, as she was still locking eyes with officer Chisholm when the young man did his best to nonverbally tell her that she needed to turn and face the front of the courtroom now. Shakahnna registered the message on her face as she spun her head around and did her best to pay attention to whatever was being said. Advice from Chino flooded her mind as she recounted what she was supposed to say when asked to testify on her own behalf. I couldn't understand what was said, I thought I was being attacked and my life was in danger, I was so happy when I heard that no one was seriously hurt, she listed the things she was supposed repeat.

To her surprise, public defender O'Donnell stood up from his chair and asked to address the court.

"Your honor, I've been given some very pertinent information regarding this case", the eager man spoke up as he reached into his briefcase to withdraw two pieces of paper, "Yesterday morning, this appeared on my desk from a member of the Raccoon City Police Department".

He handed the first of the two sheets of paper to the court clerk.

"This document, judge, was a report by that same RPD officer who apparently was sent to the outskirts of the Raccoon City forest to look over the accident site. Which is where a transport train being used by St. James Pharmaceuticals derailed the same night that the defendant in this case was found by the officers that she's charged with assaulting". The public defender stated as the court employee took a hold of the piece of paper and brought it to judge Jackson's attention so the magistrate could read it.

"I took the liberty of contacting that pharmaceutical company, and they were _very_ forthcoming about the fact that it was seratonin that was spilled by the hundreds of gallons. Now, I believe, or at least the theory that I'm putting out to this court today, your honor, is that it's this very same seratonin spill that caused erratic behavior in both my client _and_ the police officers, your honor". He continued. 

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on", district attorney Houssan stood up in his own turn, "Your honor, I haven't even read this report that Mr. O'Donnell keeps referring to. But is the public defender hinting that the officers are at fault here?".

"Not at fault, judge", O'Donnell replied, addressing the judge, "But my sources at St. James, which is this second document that I'm holding in my hand, have informed me that, while seratonin has absolutely no effect on the environment, it does have side effects on humans and animals. That's because if it's swallowed in small doses, it can reduce depression and help people who are suffering from bipolar disorders. However, taking into account the kind of dosage that _everybody_ there was made to breathe in, this would surely cause their aggression drive to go into overload. That's what this second document in my hand is informing me of. It was signed by a high-ranking executive from St. James Pharmaceuticals who believed that an increase in aggression _would_ make sense during such an event".

"OK, OK, this is surely a lot to swallow all at once, counselor", judge Jackson rubbed his own forehead as he finished reading the first piece of paper that was in front of him and looked out towards the audience in his courtroom, "But first off, is this defendant even here?".

"Uhuh, right here, your honor", Shakahnna stood up to get his attention.

"Ah, there you are", the magistrate went on, "Now Mr. O'Donnell, about this theory of yours".

"I don't think it's just a theory, judge", the public defender replied, holding the second sheet of paper towards him so the court employee could take it to the judge also, "I'm simply trying to save this court a lot of time because, if you read the statement from the officers present at the time, and I know that both I and Mr. Houssan have this, some officers at the scene reported feeling agitated both before and during the confrontation with the defendant. Even by the report of the actions they did take, one officer has twin daughters who are about the same age as the defendant, and he later reported being deeply unhappy with those events in the forest".

"Well, Mr. Houssan", judge Jackson addressed the assistant district attorney as he was reviewing the second surprise certificate from the public defender, "This does seem to confirm what Mr. O'Donnell is talking about. Feel free to take a look at it yourself".

"Another factor to add here is that the officer who's in charge of this incident, one Stephen Chisholm, has informed me when I interviewed him via telephone yesterday afternoon that the defendant has been a model citizen ever since she woke up after being subdued by the police. So why would she be violent in the forest but be so cooperative once she was taken out of the woods?".

"Do you have a request for us today, then", judge Jackson asked, wanting the public defender to get to the point.

"Your honor, I request at this time that the charges against this client are dropped", O'Donnell crossed his arms behind his lower back, "If neither she nor the officers there were acting in their right state of mind, then they should all be allowed to put this sad event behind them before they move on with their lives. We're all obviously glad that no one in that forest suffered serious injuries as a result of getting into that fight, but no one should be punished for what happened here. All parties have suffered way too much already, and dragging this out would only make things more complicated".

"Mr. Houssan?", the magistrate turned his attention to the prosecutor.

"In light of this new information, your honor, I can't object to the PD's request", the other attorney took his seat as he answered.

"In that case, the charges are dismissed", judge Jackson hit the surface of his desk with the gavel before addressing Shakahnna herself, "Young lady, you're free to go. Good luck out there and remember to not get into any more fights".

"What? I mean, that's it? Like just like that?", the teenager's facial expression changed as the girl's jaw dropped, "Oh I didn't mean that in a bad way. I mean just to reiterate, I'm wow I mean like I can go? I'm just so… And I'm gonna shut up now.".

She remained on her feet as she turned to the side of the courtroom, beaming a smile towards Chino. She was so busy doing so that she didn't notice Michael Warren standing up next to her as the mayor addressed the magistrate who was ahead of him.

"Judge Jackson, we're obviously glad with your decision to bring this case to a just conclusion. But I was wondering if, just while we were already here, it wouldn't be too much to ask this fine court for one more small matter that I'm sure could be resolved in a matter of minutes", the mayor spoke up, prompting whispers from the members of the audience who were paying attention to him.

"I don't like this", Chino whispered only loud enough for his partner to hear.

Donnelly winced in curiosity as he fought the temptation to look in Chino's direction, but ultimately kept his attention towards the majority of the spectators in front of him.

"Since nobody has come forward to claim the girl, we would like to adopt her into our household permanently, your honor", the mayor continued as he addressed Jackson.

"I suppose we _could_ do this young girl this favor, Mr. Warren", judge Jackson answered with a chuckle as he pointed towards Mr. Warren with a right index finger, "But you're lucky we have an unusually small caseload today. Otherwise, I'd have to decline your request and ask you to come back here in a few days to gain custody. But since we're already here, I do agree with you that maybe what she needs most of all now is a good home. And there's no one who'll make better parents than you and your wife, sir".

"WHAT?", Chino blurted out loud for the entire courtroom to hear and for the judge and mayor to sharply turn their attention towards him as their semi-humorous conversation was brought to an abrupt halt.

"This is supposed to be a court of law, but instead you're letting this guy use his political clout?", the young officer addressed the judge before turning his attention towards Michael Warren.

"She's not some PR stunt here, dude", Chino added towards the middle-aged man.

"Officer, what in the world are you so upset over? What's your interest in this case now that your investigation is over?", judge Jackson asked with his calm voice still intact.

"Goddamn it! Your honor, the best interest of this girl is also the objective of my investigation", the young man got less calm as he pointed at the mayor, "They're just using her as a political tool!".

Officer Chisholm stopped in his tracks, realizing that Donnelly's right grip was on his left elbow.

"Excuse me, your honor, we have to go", the older officer waved his left hand at the judge as he dragged Chino towards the side door that was used for bringing cuffed suspects up from the basement, "My friend here is in a bad mood since he missed his workout this morning. Once we calm him down, we'll both be back to help you with this room".

"I'm on to you!", the younger man ignored his partner's pull and kept barking as he pointed towards the mayor with his right index finger.

"Chino?", the teenager blurted out, feeling worried as she saw one officer being dragged out by another.

Her comment wasn't heard as louder conversations followed from members of the audience around her. She stepped away from the front row bench to follow the pair, but Donnelly had hauled Chino through the side door and closed it long before she could reach it.

Once outside the crowded room and standing behind the locked door, the older officer let go of Chino and stared at him with an incredulous look on his face.

"Never thought you'd cuss out a judge before me", Donnelly's voice was calm even as he wore a grin on his face, "But was nice to see you take the words outta my mouth when I've been wanting to tell those robed retards off for years". 

++++++++++++++++++

"Why are you still here?", Shakahnna tried to emphasize the fact that she didn't wish to be in the company of the person she was addressing.

"Because as long as you're part of this household, I get to have the pleasure of accompanying you", Penny gave a fake smile, "Until Mrs. Warren relieves me of this duty, that is. And I promise you that whatever annoyance you attempt to throw in my direction to keep me from executing those duties won't be nearly as bad as the downside of being in your stepmother's bad side, so _do_ please try and act like an adult by accepting the inevitable".

The teenager said nothing for an instant. Only her eyes shifted as the lids grew slightly wider.

"How old are you again?", Shakahnna finally asked as she headed towards the main living room.

"That has no relevance", the older chaperone followed, her voice remaining as steady as ever.

"I'm betting you're at least fifty", the teenager replied, finally causing a momentary show of disdain on the older woman's face, though it quickly dissipated, "So what are the odds that you'll be able to follow me if I don't want you there?".

Penny did not answer, but the younger woman knew that she had struck a nerve with the comment that described her much exaggerated age, so she grinned to herself as they both reached the destination.

"This is Ms. Joanne Warren, having just returned last night from her trip in France", Penny motioned towards the mayor's daughter with one hand and towards Shakahnna with the other, "Enjoy".

The fact that the mayor's employee had told her to enjoy the meeting told the teenager that the event would not go well at all, and Penny knew it. But she still had no choice but to keep an inquisitive look on her face and walk up to the blonde girl who seemed to be about her own age. It wasn't until Joanne stood up that Shakahnna realized how much taller than her the mayor's only child was. Standing just shy of six feet tall, Joanne looked down to lock eyes with the redhead, but the expression on the blonde's face was an indication that she was even less pleased than Penny to have Shakahnna there.

"Hey…", was all the redhead got to say before her words were cut short.

"No no", Joanne raised her forearm ahead of her, "You are in _my_ home. I don't wanna see you, I don't wanna hear you, I don't wanna be _aware_ of your presence. I don't know what they were thinking bringing a freak like you into the house, common criminal charity case, whatever's next? You stay away from my friends, you don't even _talk_ to anybody that I bring here. You're NOT part of this family, you're not my sister, they are not your parents. Do I make myself perfectly clear?".

"I can't imagine why you're an only child", the redhead countered, having already given up on the idea of making friends with her new sister, "After spawning the perfect little brat like you, can't imagine why that would make _anyone_ be put off child-bearing".

"Well, I hope you have a nice night", Joanne began to walk away from the living room, still eager to unpack everything she had brought from Europe, but she was stopped as Shakahnna slipped in front of her.

The teenager raised herself on her tiptoes so as to bring her face closer to the blonde's.

"Just remember to lock your bedroom door", the redhead whispered.

The only reaction that statement got from the teenaged Warren was that she raised her right arm in front of her torso, pointing the flat palm towards her current antagonist.

"Like, whatever", Joanne stated before actually heading towards the living room exit, leaving the redhead alone.

Once by herself, Shakahnna sat down on one of the many plush couches within the large, heavily decorated room. For some odd reason, she wasn't surprised that Joanne Warren reacted with such hostility towards her. Disappointed, but not at all taken aback. She sighed as she thought to herself that she just wished she knew why it was that the blonde girl's reaction was apparently behavior by default when it comes to most people and their attitude towards her.

++++++++++++++++++

"OK, so in theory I might like her", Stephen Chisholm stated as he fumbled for his door key, "But just a bit, is all. And so what? I still wish she'd been able to come out with us tonight though".

Before tonight, it had been a while since he had gotten together at his partner's favorite bar. But hanging out in any clothes that weren't the dark blue of the RPD uniform was always fun while he and Eric Donnelly were exchanging thoughts, some serious but most not, over beer, hard liquor and an array of sandwiches, pretzels and potato chips. Thus, it was a tradition that both men enjoyed keeping a hold of.

"Chino, dude, you are _beyond_ hope", Eric Donnelly sighed as he saw the younger man chuckling quietly to himself

It had constantly amazed Donnelly that he himself would drink at least twice as much alcohol as his younger partner, but Chino was usually the one who returned home drunk. 

At least he has several hours of sleep to go before he has to be anywhere the next morning, Donnelly thought as he watched Chino finally managing to slide the key into the locked door of his apartment. Except that the younger cop's face suddenly turned serious when he realized that his door wasn't locked at all, even though he distinctively made a habit of locking it every single time he left home.

"What is it?", Donnelly asked when he realized the change in his colleague's facial expression.

"Why isn't this thing locked?", Chino thought out loud without taking his eyes away from the doorknob.

"Maybe you forgot to lock it when you came to meet me and the guys", the more experienced officer suggested.

"No, no way", Chino shook his head as he turned his face towards Donnelly.

He had to call for assistance while investigating possible break-ins dozens of times before, even while knowing that at least half of those cases were a false alarm. But here he was standing at the threshold of his own home and he knew that he hadn't left the heavy wooden door unlocked by accident, which meant that whichever individuals had forced the door open could still be inside. 

Unfortunately, while he was sure of the urgency of his situation, he also did not have access to the radio or the 9 mm pistol that his job mandated he carry with him while on duty. So calling for help from this spot was impossible, even while confronting a possibly armed burglar, which was already to his disadvantage. Thus, the young man decided that the only option for him and his partner was to leave the area and find a phone to use so help from the RPD could be summoned.

Instead of that plan, though, Chino saw his partner reaching under his own shirt and towards his lower back. Without even saying a word, Donnelly withdrew the standard issue 9 mm semi-automatic handgun that every officer was issued at the first day of training.

"You have your gun? What are you doing with _that_ when not on the job?", the young man asked, still staring at the loaded firearm as his partner undid the safety mechanism.

"Beats standing in line and having to pay for stuff. I _told_ you many times _not_ to keep yours at your locker", Donnelly replied without a sarcastic grin, prompting Chino to wonder whether he was being serious or not.

Either way, he couldn't afford to spend any time thinking of that question now, as Donnelly next held the weapon in front of him with his right hand and signaled for his colleague to stand to the side of the doorway, just in case the possible trespasser was armed and watching the door as they opened it from outside. 

"I don't think that's such a good idea", Chino whispered, "We should report this".

"Show some creativity, Steve", Donnelly whispered back as he motioned towards the inside of the apartment, "Besides, imagine the fun we could have until a marked car gets here to pick this guy up if he's still in there".

Chino had to admit that his instinct was telling him to not go ahead with this plan, but he also knew that, between the two of them, Donnelly was the more experienced officer. So going against what he thought was his better judgment, he agreed to the plan as each man stood on one side of the closed entrance. Then using one hand, he slowly turned the doorknob and allowed the door to swing open with a slight push.

Donnelly crept into the apartment first, weapon at the ready and aimed at whatever may be in front of him. Making as little noise as possible, Chino followed him, both men visually combing the dark surroundings because none of the lights were on and the only source of illumination was from outside. 

Once having made sure that no one was in the short hallway after the entrance, they simply kept the door open as both officers found the kitchen and made their way further into the residence. Donnelly pointed towards Chino's living room to his left, indicating that he wanted his partner to investigate that part of the home while the older man would inspect the bedroom that was ahead and to his right. So Chino nodded and followed the few steps to get to his own small living room. 

He looked over every corner of the room first. Then made sure that someone wasn't trying to hide behind the couch or next to the television stand. Having seen no one, he was about to proceed towards the two closets to see if they were secure, but he first heard and then felt Donnelly tapping him on the shoulder.

"I found your intruder", Chino's partner stated in a normal tone as he put his handgun away, not bothering to keep his voice down all of a sudden. 

Donnelly motioned behind his own shoulder with a casual thumb before he turned around and walked back to the darkened kitchen, indicating that Chino should check out his own bedroom.

"What? What's in there?", the younger cop still whispered back.

"Something that I'm sure is for you", Donnelly replied, still in a normal tone of voice as he opened Chino's refrigerator and inspected the contents, "Don't worry, it's not a guillotine that's waiting for you to walk under it or anything".

With his face reflecting the confusion he felt, Chino turned the lights to the kitchen on before he headed towards his bedroom. Once there, he saw Shakahnna curled up asleep on top of the covers of his bed. Her red locks partially obscured her face, which rested atop both arms. 

He was pleasantly surprised to see her there. He just wasn't sure if he should wake her up or not, especially considering the various nightmare that he now knew the girl to be having. He hadn't realized how violent those dreams were until he was listening to her speak with the shrink. So it seemed to be a shame to wake her up when she was sleeping so peacefully.

++++++++++++++++++

  
The teenager groggily woke up in the shadowy bedroom to the sounds that seemed strange at first. But upon lifting her head off the pillow, it took her a few seconds to realize that a television set was on in another room. So it was only a matter of rolling off the bed and placing her bare feet on the wooden floor before she took slow, careful steps towards the doorway leading to the kitchen.

Once there, though, she finally saw that the source of the noise was Chino and Donnelly seated in separate couches that were close together as they were watching an old Chinese martial arts movie. Both men were so busy laughing at the choreography that neither noticed her approaching the living room. But after a few seconds, Eric Donnelly's attention was diverted by the change in the background, so the man's face instinctively turned toward her direction. Seeing her there, the older man tapped his partner on the arm and motioned towards her.

"Look. Sleeping beauty awakens", Donnelly chuckled as he returned his attention back to the TV set.

"Hey!", Chino smiled as he sprung up to his feet and walked towards her, though a bit unsteadily at first because he had been sitting down for about a couple of hours.

"I knew you wouldn't be angry", Shakahnna smiled back when she saw his initial reaction.

"How did you sleep?", the young man asked as he took a hold of her hand and invited her deeper into the living room.

"Pretty swell, it be'd comphy." She informed him as she took a seat next to him, with the smile still on her face.

"Just tell me this. How the hell did you break in here considering you didn't have a key?", Donnelly spoke up as he then turned towards Chino, "You didn't have a key, did you?".

"I can't open a lock with a touch any more, I kinda be'd able to do in that basement cell, when you thought you had left it open by accident", she grinned at the older cop, "I don't really know how I did it then or why I can't make it work now. Of course that doesn't be meaning I can't _pick_ locks. Apparently I can. Maybe I was a professional thief before I woked up in the woods, who knows?"

"That was _your_ doing?! But how the hell did you manage to do that?" Donnelly's voice was more shrill than usual.

"I don't know. It just works. Or at least it did. I touch the lock and it be'd opened. Although it doesn't work anymore and I manually have to pick the lock with a Kirby grip."

"You should put that on your resume, assuming that your new parents insist on you working", Donnelly added.

"They are _not_ my parents", she countered.

"Is that why you came here tonight?", Chino asked, "Were the Warrens acting in a way that made you not wanna be at the mansion?".

"Uhuh… Well not really considering the Warrens didn't even be there. The mayor disappeared after the court thingie this morning, Elena couldn't be bothered with the court at all", she informed both men, "No. It was running into my charming 'sister' Joanne that made the trip here be required".

"More charming than you? I find that hard to believe", Donnelly grinned, "But hey, since you wanna be here so much, we'll trade places. The mayors daughter and all. You stay with Stephen here and _I'll_ go keep little miss Joanne company. She _does_ sleep alone, right?".

"Yeah, she's a pretty little package until she opens her fucking mouth", the teenager informed him, "Would you know of anything you could shove into that mouth of hers to shut her up, Donnelly?".

"You kinda have to make sure she's at least sixteen before you ask me that, kiddo. That's something that my blood brother here isn't apparently as curious about in _his_ adventures", the cop pointed towards Chino.

"Are you two gonna be OK after what happened in court, yeah?", she asked both men next.

"What, for screaming out loud and using language in front of the audience?", Donnelly answered first "Hell, Steve will probably be getting pats on the back and handshakes from some of the same guys who'd been hassling him ever since we made the complaint about Merton and his lackeys. Police politics is a _strange_ bedfellow".

"Huh?", the teenager was bewildered, "You are sleeping with someone at work?".

"It's just an expression, Shak. Eric means that we'll both be fine", Chino brushed the subject off.

All three were looking towards the television screen for an instant, each individual wondering if it was appropriate to break the silence first.

"So what's in store as the mayor's new kid for you?", the younger officer spoke up first.

"I don't know. Just member though what I said before applies times two now. Am going to be permanently latched to your waist", she beamed a smile in his direction, "Assuming that be's OK?".

"Of course it is", Chino answered the silly question, "It's why I didn't like our 'esteemed' mayor to be adopting you to begin with – because it's just a media stunt to appear more in touch with the plight of the working class, nothing more".

"Michael's been the only one that be's OK since I met him, being honest", Shakahnna shrugged her shoulders, not sure what to make of the situation at her official home, "It'll be one of those things I can tell later on depending on how he be's when the cameras are in as opposed to when we be at home alone".

"But the more important question now on everyone's mind, I'm sure", Donnelly interjected, "How much more money are you making now that you're an official member of the Warren household?".

"Funnyyyyy", she replied with another smile, "So what did you guys be planning for the rest of tonight? And well am kinda hungry, didn't have time to grab anything before bolting from the Warrren's. Can I acquire something to munch on and a drink?".

"Ugh…", Chino groaned, "Don't mention the word 'drink' for at least a couple more hours, OK? Just help yourself to the kitchen for whatever's in there that's no longer moving".

"Dude, this always happens when we go out", Donnelly playfully chastised him, "Don't worry about me. I can handle a third glass of beer. The last hundred times were just a fluke and I _know_ I won't get pains in my gut this time".

"You're a real talent, dude", Chino countered at the older man's impression of him, "One has to wonder why you're wasting your time at your job instead of raking in millions in showbiz".

"Who would keep you safe, and out of prison, if I did?", Donnelly shot back.

"I would!", the redhead raised her hand into the air as if she was a student in a classroom, "Well the safe part, that is. As far as out of prison, that be's another issue entirely. I can at least _join_ him in jail if he ends up there, though".

------------------------------------

Having stayed at Chino's house was enjoyable, as expected, even if Shakahnna wasn't able to be alone with him. Instead, she and the two officers stayed up till about 1 AM before finally having to get some sleep by deciding who gets the bed and who gets to crash on the sofas. After all, the fact that the teenager hadn't told anyone at the mansion about where she was going was irrelevant, because both men had to be at work when the sun came up.

"You take the bed, it's your place, after all", Donnelly took charge as he pointed towards Chino, "She and I will take these two couches".

"Nah, it's fine", his partner countered, "_You_ relax in bed and we'll take the couches".

"Oooh no. I _don't_ want you two sleeping in the same place", the older man shook his head as he pointed towards the rookie cop first and the teenager next, "You through there, you stay here".

"Is that OK, Shak?", Chino turned towards the redhead.

"Oh, OK", Shakahnna lowered her head in mock submission as she put her chin down towards her chest and looked up at them with big doe eyes, "But I'm worried about after what he said he was gonna do to my innocent sister".

"Say _what_?!", Donnelly shot back, not realizing her teasing tone of voice, "You're the one who was bugging me about shoving stuff into her mouth because she wouldn't shut up!".

Shakahnna repressed the urge to smile as she tucked her body behind Chino, looking at Donnelly over the younger man's shoulder so that only her eyes could be seen while she clung to his upper arms from the young man's back.

"Chino, you have to protect me. What could ickle me do against big ferocious Donnelly?", she continued.

"This is just your ploy to get her alone, isn't it?", officer Chisholm added, having realized that his colleague just wasn't getting the joke.

"What the fuck are you two talking about?!", Donnelly was finally starting to lose his temper in the face of such accusations, "You already forgot what happened the _last_ time we tried to take her on? Something about a forest and a lot of us having to lean on other guys as we were leaving the scene?".

"Eric, Eric, relax", Chino finally smiled as he held his own hands up and pointed the palms towards him, "We're just pulling your leg, really".

"Of course, Donnelly", Shakahnna emerged from behind her supposed protector, "Come on, I hardly be the sort who needs to be taken care of. But tell me this - if I'm such a predator, what makes you think you're safe if you stay with me?".

"It's not _you_ I'm worried me, or me for that matter", the older man relaxed, "It's _him_".

"You don't trust me, Eric? I'm hurt", Chino smirked, "I thought we were supposed to trust each other with everything. We're partners, no?".

The younger man turned his right hand into a fist and hit himself on the left chest with it twice.

"Not with her, I don't", the older officer admitted, "Now it's for your own good. You go to bed and she stays here. During this weekend, if you two want, you can get together, as long as you're only doing it in public and call me when you go behind closed doors".

"Donnelly, we're not fucking", Shakahnna replied, unable to keep the grin on her face from getting wider as she spoke, "Just because you would take advantage of a young girl who was vulnerable, not all men are like you".

"Let's just get some damn shut-eye", the older man sighed, "I don't feel like falling asleep behind the wheel while we're on patrol at sun-up".

-----------------------------------

The only time that Eric Donnelly woke up was when the first glimpse of sunrise began to illuminate the inside of the living room via the two large windows. His internal clock having never failed him since he was a teenager, he knew that it was exactly 6 AM even though there were no clocks in the well-furnished room.

The officer first moaned lightly, rather proud that he had no problems waking up when he was going on less than five hours of sleep. But his attention was soon diverted because he could tell that something wasn't right in the room. Instead of the total quiet he expected to find, he heard a whimpering sound from some distance away.

Lifting his head off the cushion and turning towards the source of the noise, he realized that it was emanating from the couch where the teenager was lying. Shakahnna eye's were firmly wedged shut, but her delicate features were twisted to the point where the face no longer looked like the owner was sleeping, but rather was in pain. Tiny beads of sweat were gathered on her forehead before they slipped downwards on her face. Donnelly elevated his upper body, pushing the thin blanket off his torso as he paid closer attention to the redhead. He watched her struggle in her sleep for several seconds, and was considering the idea of going to wake up Chino.

He watched as the teenager whimpered and curled into a ball, acting as though something was seriously wrong with her sleep. Having finally made up his mind that his partner should be notified of this, Donnelly planted his bare feet on the floor. But as he stood up, he saw Shakahnna waking up as the teenager instinctively forced her own hand into her mouth so not to wake anyone else up with her screaming. She had conditioned herself to wake up in such a way so as not to alert anyone at the Warrens' mansion because of repeated nightmares that ended with her waking up with a yell.

The newly-awakened officer locked eyes with the teenager and, for a split second, saw the same look on her face that he had seen there once before in Raccoon City Forest. Shakahnna's eyes were white and bloodshot full of veins. It was deeply unpleasant to see those, almost enough to cause the young man to feel fear. But the wild look within them was gone after she blinked several times, and it was only then that her normal facial expression returned. Even though her body overall still shook a little bit, she soon resembled an ordinary person who just awoke from a bad dream. 

Donnelly gathered his wits and was about to ask what was going on and how the girl was feeling, even if the redhead originally appeared as if she might be locking eyes with him like he expected. But instead, she quickly stood up and bolted towards the bathroom. Not bothering to close the door, she was heard throwing up in the tiny white space.

It was only then that Donnelly finally discarded his blanket, got up from his own couch and walked towards the bedroom, even as he caught a glimpse of the open bathroom door on the way there. Shakahnna was on her knees as she continued throwing up in the lavatory, so the officer did not interrupt her, seeing as to how he didn't know how to react to such situations.   
She's just Chino's friend anyway, not mine, he rationalized to himself. Besides, his specialty was dealing with intruders and muggers, not kids who were losing yesterday's lunch in the bathroom. So he walked into his partner's bedroom, walking up to the younger man who was sound asleep in his own bed.

"Yo dude, wakey wakey!", the older man spoke up as he lightly slapped Chino on the cheek.

"Uuuuuugh?", the younger cop turned his face towards the source of the unwelcome intrusion as he tried, and failed, to slap his partner's hand away.

"Your girlfriend's talking to god on the big white telephone, dude", Donnelly added, slightly amused at the young man's reaction.

"Eric, fuck off!", Chino called out as he still wasn't fully awake.

"Chino, up, now", the older man ordered instead.

"What's going on?", his younger partner sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes with his right hand.

"Your little friend isn't feeling too good in the bathroom", Donnelly sat on the edge of the bed as he finally clued him in, "You may wanna go in there to see if you can help".

"Oh, shit!", Chino replied to no one in particular as he did his best to jump off the bed and half-staggered towards the bathroom, not having mastered the art of walking straight when he had just woken up.

Donnelly followed him at a slower pace as the young officer made it to the bathroom, not seeing Shakahnna when looking directly at the toilet. But on closer inspection around the door, she was sitting on the floor, back to the bathtub. His gaze was greeted with large green eyes. 

"Can I borrow your toothbrush please?", the girl asked as she kept looking at her friend, "My mouth feels yuck".

"Sure, as long as you keep it afterwards", Donnelly chuckled as he answered on Chino's behalf.

---------------------------------

It was morning before Shakahnna decided to return to the mayor's mansion, mainly because she had to, seeing as to how she hadn't told anyone there where she was going, and both men had to go to work. The walk from the guard station to the main door of the mansion was as brisk as she could expect it to be. She was pretty sure that she'd get into trouble for the previous night's actions, so much so that she might've even needed to either ask Chino if his offer to have her move in with him was still available or to see what local hospices would accept her.

She expected to see an environment that was hostile at worst or one that exhibited an uncomfortable silence at best. Not that it mattered that much, since she expected to go up to her bedroom and get some rest, whilst trying to avoid Penny as much as possible, seeing as to how her designated supervisor wouldn't have been happy after having been dodged for the second time. So she inhaled and exhaled slowly as she pushed the large mansion door open. But instead of the anticipated scenery, she only found an envelope which had her name on it and that was attached to the inside of the wooden door with adhesive. Taking the envelope off the vertical surface and opening it, she read the handwritten contents to herself.

Dearest Shakahnna

Since this is the first official day where we hope that you'll consider yourself our second child, I was hoping that you could join me for breakfast. If you have other plans then perhaps some other time but if you are to one day think of me as your father then we should begin to get to know each other. 

Love, Michael

"Wow", Shakahnna found herself uttering.

She didn't want to be disloyal to the family that she didn't remember. But even the basic attempt to try to remember those family members caused the familiar ricocheting in her head and still caused it to hurt. And what harm could breakfast do anyway, she asked.

The teenager wasn't even sure where the mayor would be having breakfast, assuming he was still there and hadn't left his home hours ago. It was still possible that he left the note, had breakfast for the day and headed out to work long before she arrived, or maybe he was working in his office at home today, but breakfast ended long ago anyway. But then again, the third possibility was that he was still in the kitchen eating the first meal of the day now. The note also hinted that perhaps Michael wasn't a nutcase like the Warren women, so Shakahnna made up her mind to at least stop by the kitchen to see if her adoptive father was there. If he wasn't, then she could just return to her room to get some rest before planning the remainder of her day. On the other hand, if the mayor was waiting, it could be nice. 

Mind made up, the newest addition to the household made her way to the dining room as she passed numerous pieces of artwork that were hung on the walls. One that she recognized was a Van Gough, so Shakahnna wondered if it was an original, as it would cost a small fortune if it was, and it wasn't even that appealing either. Well, each to their own, she thought to herself.

Like everything else, the dining room was grandiose. She hadn't noticed the polished oak tables and chairs carved with ornate patterns before because, despite having been there once during the first night she arrived, the desire to leave to reach Chino had been so strong that there had been little time to feast her senses with the décor.

"Good morning, Ms. Shakahnna", a voice echoed from the opposite room roughly thirty feet away.

"Erm, hey…", the young woman looked confused and hurried over to the source of the greeting. 

A man who was not that much taller than her stood in that area, wearing some kind of tailored suit. Noticing first that his hair was blond and fly-away, the teenager roughly approximated his age to have been between 30 and 40 years old. There weren't any wrinkles on his face, but it looked as though they were hiding just below the surface. 

"I don't believe we have been acquainted yet", he had a nice-sounding voice, one that was even elegant, "My name is Herman Bustleton, I am the Warren's personal live-in butler. Should you need anything, you can always summon me". 

"Hey Mr. Bustleton, how's you? And please just call me Shak. The whole formality thing just makes me kinda, well, you know".

"What can I do for you this morning?", his tone didn't change.

"Well, if it be's ok, do you know where Mr. Warren be's? Or did he already leave?".

"I believe he is in his office here at home today. I shall go inform him that you are ready to take breakfast".

"Nah really it's fine, sure you got better things to do than run about for me, if you could just point me in the general direction", she didn't want him to go through any trouble.

------------------------------------

"Mr. mayor, Ms. Shakahnna is here to see you", Leslie pressed on an intercom at her desk to contact Michael Warren because the door to her adoptive father's office was closed, "She says she doesn't need an appointment".

The secretary gave the teenager a slight grin as she finished making the statement and then waited for Michael to inform her that the redhead was allowed to come inside. Shakahnna wasn't sure if the older woman was smirking because she thought it was needless to have mentioned that she didn't need an appointment to see the mayor since she could see him whenever she wanted or because it was naïve of her to think she could. Either way, she would find out soon enough depending on what Michael's behavior was like when he greeted her. So she walked past Leslie's desk and gripped the doorknob to the mayor's office, hoping it wasn't locked as she was going to feel unintelligent if it was.

Fortunately, the knob turned under her grasp and she was able to push the office door open without any difficulty. She then saw Michael standing up from behind his desk as he put a fancy, metallic pen back in its holder.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm glad you're back home", the mayor smiled as he stepped around the writing table to walk in her direction and she closed the door behind her, "I was wondering if you were mad at me after yesterday's court hearing, the way you disappeared once we were home".

"No! I didn't be mad at you, Mr. Warren!", she shook her head, still surprised at his friendly demeanor, "I just think, well know that some people be pretty unhappy at my existence."

"Ah, it's difficult for Joanne", he already knew who she was referring to, "She's been an only child all of her life, and she's not used to having someone else about. But that will come in time, I promise. It's much more healthy for her to have someone else here, but it's just going to take quite a while for her to realize that because she's quite set in her ways.

"I guess so", she sighed, still not sure how her first real conversation with the most powerful person in Raccoon City would go.

"But we can discuss that more over breakfast if you'd like", he placed an amicable palm on her upper back as he motioned her towards the only door to the office with his other hand, "Have you had anything to eat today yet?".

"Nu uh", she replied with a smile as she hugged herself, wanting to let him lead the way to wherever he planned to have the first meal of the day.

"Neither have I", Michael lied even though he was full from a breakfast he had less than an hour ago, "So care to join me? We can maybe sort out whatever's going on here at home over pancakes and eggs".

"Yeah, that really would be nice", her smile only grew wider.

--------------------------------------

"How would you like the eggs, miss, and how many of them?", Bustleton asked Shakahnna as she was seated around a square-shaped table with the mayor of Raccoon City, feeling overwhelmed at the choices that were available for breakfast alone.

"Uh, just whatever with water is fine, thankies", she answered as she looked up at the butler, "But I'd still rather get it myself, Mr. Bustleton".

"Oh, don't even think that", the older man brushed off with his left hand, "And how many?".

"Umm… Three please?", she asked.

"Coming up", Mr. Bustleton replied, "And sir?".

"Two pancakes with coffee will be fine, Herman", the mayor went on.

"I still think it's a waste of silver to be having all this cutlery for any meal, never mind just breakfast, huh?", the teenager asked her new adoptive father as the butler left to prepare the orders and she surveyed the three forks, two spoons and one knife that was placed in front of each chair.

"I take it that you don't know the use for those utensils?", Michael chuckled as he placed both elbows on the tabletop.

"Uhuh I do but just don't see the point of having three forks, well you know unless I'm backed into a corner surrounded by monsters. Then having anything sharp to stick into their eyes would be a good thing", she smiled back.

"What monsters are you talking about, sweetie?", Mr. Warren inquired with a more serious tone.

"Nothing real, at least I hope not", she shook her head, "Just whatever there is that lives inside my head. Real or not, keeps me being scared of the real horrors of the world, I guess.'

"Oh, right", the older man smiled again, "So do you want to tell me what went wrong yesterday when we came home?".

"Well, not that I be'd in anyway adverse to what happened in court, of course, because I totally wasn't", she started explaining, enjoying the fact that here was someone who wanted to listen to her opinion instead of trying to tell her what to do, however unsuccessfully, "And I really _did_ appreciate what you wanted to do after those charges be'd dropped. But once we came back here, I guess I just didn't know what happened since you disappeared and fucking stoopid _Penny_ took over, and she brought me right into Joanne, who be'd majorly pissed off even before I had a chance to do anything wrong. It just didn't seem to make sense to stay here when all I did was bother people and there was some place else could go and have them be pleased".

"I _am_ sorry about not being here when you were still not feeling comfortable with staying in our home, sweetheart", the mayor added, "It's only because I had to take all of yesterday morning off when I went to court with you and Mr. Meega, so once court was over and our adoption was approved, I had to return to work at city hall since it's very hard to take any time off in my line of work. Whatever time I take off, even if it's just half a day, ends up with work piling up very quickly when I return to either one of my offices".

"Oh, I understand.", she had to admit.

"Though I hear what you're saying about Penny too", the mayor remembered, "She's only employed by us because my wife likes the job she does. But I do know Penny was mad because she reported that you had gone missing for the second time last night without mentioning where you went".

"I'm really not doing anything wrong though", she countered on her own behalf, "I'm with police officers and how much trouble could I get into with them to keep me right?".

"That's a good point, I suppose", Mr. Warren went on as Bustleton returned and placed two plates, one in front of each individual at the table, before filling two glasses with cold water.

"Thank you", the teenager looked up at the butler, who only smiled before leaving the kitchen.

"Would that be the same young man who made his opinion known in such a loud manner when we were in court?", the mayor addressed his adoptive daughter again once they were alone.

"Uhuh, that's him. Although he had some pretty strong things to say about this entire family, he really is, except for you of course, the only person who's been really good to me. Chino be's a rare find", Shakahnna tried to use her words carefully.

"You mean about how he thinks we're doing all this with you only because we want to look good in front of the press?", Michael took a sip of water.

"Well, yeah, that's the gist of it", she smiled as she looked down at her plate rather than at him, "And to be honest, I'm just not sure if you and your wife _have_ gotted me here cause of that. And if it _did_ be the only reason, Mr. mayor, then you know what? That's fine. You guys took me into your home, gave me a bed to sleep in and all the food I could munch and a ton of stuff that girls my age would die for. I'm SO grateful for all that. But if the reasons for it be just what Chino said, then I'm not gonna be mad or anything, but I'd rather know what hand I'm playing with instead of trying to forge relationships when am not really here to do that".

"I'm very aware that from certain perspectives, that might appear to be the case, sweetie", the mayor put his glass down, "But if that was true, would we be having this now after I postponed my breakfast to have it with you, or be talking about why you weren't home last night? I think that part of the reason both Elena and I are doing this is because we weren't there as much as we should've been for Joanne, and part of the reason we think you'd be so good here is because our Joanne doesn't see as much of us because to maintain the place we're living, we both have to work a lot more than forty hours a week, both me and my wife. We would very much like you to join our family".

"Well, seems at least one of you does", she grinned back, a certain degree of pleasure showing on the youthful face, but it soon faltered and the child looked concerned. "I still don't know if and when my real family will appear, though".

She stopped as the beginning of a headache began forming in her forehead, so she had to rub the top of her face with the right hand. Such was the price of trying to remember anything about her past, as she had found out from too many painful attempts in the last few weeks.

"I meant, my biological family", she rephrased for Mr. Warren's behalf as the pain subsided, "I _do_ appreciate everything you've done for me. Is what family is supposed to do".

"Sweetie, if and when your parents show up and you can be reunited with them, no one will be happier for you than Elena and me. I'd just rather that it was us who looked after you _until_ that happens", the mayor continued, wanting something less serious to talk about, if only for a little while, "So how's the eggs?".

"They're fine", she replied as she took a bite, "Actually better than fine, in fact. They're amazing".

"Herman _is_ arguably the best cook you'll ever run into, whether in Raccoon or anywhere else", her adoptive father gave credit where it was due, "But from what I'm seeing, I think you're the kind of girl who isn't going to be happy just sitting around here at home all day".

"Your instincts are indeed very sharp", she grinned.

"Have you thought about anything you'd like to do to pass the time while you're with us? Go to school, perhaps?", he followed through.

"I don't really have urges to be stuck in a classroom and discussing the many hidden 'meanings' of a stoopid Shakespeare story, to be honest, at least not if I get an option about whether or not I have to go", she had to admit, "But working at the RPD would definitely make me be pleased. Besides, I'd be able to make my own money instead of having to pester you or Mrs. Warren".

"You can't be an officer, though, not with how you are now", the older man explained, "You'd need to be a high school graduate before you applied to be in uniform, not to mention the minimum age limit that all applicants need to be, and with you not having any known past at this time, we don't have either criteria, I'm afraid".

"Don't have to be a cop. Just any job where I get to be at the R.P.D.", she was willing to compromise, "I'm guessing that there must be something that I can do without the missing… stuff. ".

"That's true enough", the mayor finished his second breakfast of the morning, "One can be a secretary without a high school degree".

"So when can I start?", she chuckled, knowing full well that she needed to be more patient.

"Well, first, we need to get you a social security number", Michael added, "I'll have Leslie put in the application and once that comes back, you'll have a card and be able to go apply for the job".

"OK, well then for the second order of the day", she followed through with a sarcastic smile, "When do you think that me and Joanne will share a room and be discussing make-up and boys?".

++++++++++++++++++

"Good evening from our staff tonight, I'm Emily Corrie-Smith", the news reporter improvised the greeting as she was staring into the lens of an active camera before she was due to read the headlines for the night.

"Tonight, our station has come across some vital information about an accident that had apparently taken place within Raccoon City about a month ago, but whose long-term consequences were felt by dozens of people back then, even though they did not know of it", the relatively young reporter began reading from the large cards that were finally held underneath the camera itself, "It seems that a train carrying a huge amount of the neuro-transmitter seratonin for a local company, that being St. James Pharmaceuticals, had derailed approximately five weeks ago. What we have _just_ learned, though, was that this seratonin apparently affected the mindset of people who came upon it and breathed in its fumes. For more on this story and its possible long-term side effects, some that may even affect people today, we go to our correspondent Peter Jacobs, who's in place outside St. James Pharmaceuticals. Peter?".

"Thank you Emily", the second male reporter talked into his own manned and mounted camera as he stood outside on the sidewalk across the street from a corporate building, "I'm standing outside St. James now, as you can see it behind me".

Jacobs partly pointed behind him with a right thumb as he used his left hand to show off a piece of paper for the camera.

"It's where today an admission was made by a director of consumer safety, Dr. Henry Sarton, that a spill of this neuro-transmitter had indeed taken place in this city last month, which, we now know, apparently led to many cases of unusual behavior among Racccoon's citizens", Jacobs went on, "Those changes were described as making citizens more aggressive, more reckless and thus more susceptible to injury. What we _don't_ know for sure, Emily, is whether the side effect of exposure to seratonin is only temporary or lasts a long time. Preliminary reports _do_ seem to indicate that those negative effects had disappeared after a day or so, but the question always remains in the minds of concerned citizens everywhere".

The news footage switched from showing Peter Jacobs to a previously-made recording of Henry Sarton exiting a police station with one uniformed officer serving as an escort while he was followed by about ten news reporters, with Jacobs being one of his trailers.

"Mr. Sarton, how did your interview with the police brass go?", one journalist asked the scientist as he hastily walked towards a waiting vehicle.

"I told the truth, that's all I could do", Sarton quickly replied without looking towards the person who stated the question.

"Why would everyone else in your company deny that the train carrying the seratonin belonged to St. James Pharmaceuticals?", Jacobs himself raised his voice to be heard over his colleagues.

"Because they're afraid of the truth", Sarton gave his second reply, "It was an unfortunate accident that shouldn't be covered up with more lies. I'm tired of lying, and I hope that one day they'll admit to the truth also because the people deserve to know. We all took an oath to help people, but I feel like I'm the only one who's even trying to make life better for those who are wronged. We're supposed to be doctors, goddamnit".

With that, Dr. Sarton reached his car and used a key to open the front driver's side door. It was then that the uniformed officer who was walking very close by placed himself between the scientist and the small group of reporters.

"That's all for now, folks. Let the man have his room", the officer made sure none of the journalists were hindering the path of the car as Sarton started the engine and then slowly drove off.

The news footage returned to the image of Peter Jacobs standing by himself outside the pharmaceutical company.

"As you've seen, everyone else at St. James still vehemently denies that the spill was the fault of this company", the journalist continued after the film footage ended, "Dr. Sarton is still the only one who's on this quest for the truth, revealing what appears to be a lot of effort on the part of St. James Pharmaceuticals to cover up this incident, as the sheet of paper that I showed you earlier clearly shows a receipt for the transport of seratonin on the very night that the spill happened at Raccoon Forest. Despite the repeated denials, though, the government has promised to investigate the company's involvement with this accident and its cover-up of it".

"What measures do you know of that the government could be taking, Peter?", Corrie-Smith asked as her camera took over the screen for a few seconds.

"For starters, the contract that St. James had with the government is on hold, as far as I was told, and my sources have informed me that St. James will not be given any more deals until this investigation is over", Jacobs explained, "How long that investigation will take is anybody's guess. But as a result, the stock price for St. James Pharmaceuticals has plummeted, Emily, from 84 dollars a share down to 27. Also, we may see layoffs at St. James in the next few days that will lead...".

Albert Wesker used a remote control to shut off the television set that was in the back of his private office. While he was seated on a revolving chair, he then turned around to face the front of his private chamber before addressing the man who was seated across the desk from him.

"Well, Mr. Sarton, quite the hero, aren't we?", the shaded individual smiled, "Welcome to Umbrella Inc. You'll find a lot of heroes here. None the less, I think that your new job at our Arkney Facility will prove to be more than satisfactory". 

+++++++++++++++++++++

"Since Birkin has moved exclusively to the facility he had Umbrella create underneath the art museum, my own development is progressing at a constant, yet un-stimulating rate", Albert Wesker spoke into his personal Dictaphone as he was alone in his chamber, "And despite the near completion of the MA-121's, or as the lab staff refer to them, the hunters, I find my interest being diverted elsewhere. The preliminary runs of our first batch of MA-121's is showing them to be highly fruitful. Their loyalty only to me will prove to be highly useful when it comes to my negotiations with Umbrella, or whoever else, should I choose".

He paused for an instant.

"They are very intelligent for creatures that are usually brain-dead and only motivated to feed", the scientist couldn't resist a slight smile as he resumed, "Unlike the previous subjects, these MA-121's do not show restraint when it comes to deciding which creatures to attack. People who've become hosts to the T-virus, the so-called 'zombies', prefer to dine on live victims, resorting to feeding on dead flesh only when their body begins to metabolize itself. MA-121's, on the other hand, will attack whatever is closest to it. This was proven by several experiments held a week ago where an MA-121 was released in the yard and given the freedom to dispose either of a live human or a zombie. In every occasion, the MA-121 opted to dismantle both the human _and_ the zombie, starting with whichever creature was closer to it, before feeding on the corpse of whatever victim was near its reach. This is in contrast to a zombie which, it has been shown, will always kill and eat a live human, even if the said human is farther away from it than a fellow zombie is. Seems that these zombies prefer the meat of a recently killed animal as opposed to the meat of an associate that had been decaying for days or even hours".

Wesker stopped talking as he paused the Dictaphone and took a sip of cool water before restarting the gadget and continuing his verbal notes.

"After all the work put into the MA project, mostly by me, we now know how these impressive creatures operate", Wesker followed through, "Which is to say, how they do _exactly_ what they were meant to do. _My_ MA-121's kill everything that moves, no less, no more. Once they realize that all humans and animals that are within their range of smell, which is about 500 to 1000 meters, have been disposed of, they will then conserve their energy".

The Umbrella scientist stopped the Dictaphone again.

"You've really outdone yourself this time, Wes", he talked to himself, "I just wish my other half could be here to see this now".

The last phrase brought a grin that was wider than he expected.

"They are also programmed to make sure they do not kill one person, and one person only, in the entire world, that being me", he resumed talking after turning the miniature machine back on, "The way this was ensured was by copying the parenting habits of many animals in the wild, whereas the first creature seen by an animal is immediately assumed to be its parent and since they never physically mature, they will always follow and depend on me from then on. This instinct was programmed within every MA-121, and of course I made sure to be there when they first opened their eyes, thus making sure I never have to worry about my own back when dealing with these fine creatures. Finally, they only have to eat about once every two weeks, with an average meal consisting of an adult human or an adult-sized zombie. Being their father, they also only eat food when I am present within their visual vicinity. So finally, any MA-121 is programmed to seek me out, using its sense of smell again, whenever it is extremely hungry or injured".

With that, Albert Wesker turned the Dictaphone off again. He was feeling his sense of pride and accomplishment be clouded by a sudden influx of anger as a new thought entered his mind.

"Unlike Birkin and his G-virus", the scientist pointed out his colleague's work with the cynicism he felt after making sure the recording device was back on, "My recent accomplishments are now, instead of merely projected for a future date. But I just _can't_ enjoy them because I can't stop thinking about this new specimen!".

He got angrier as he kept talking, not even noticing that he was beginning to talk through clenched teeth.

"Birkin, as always, degenerated into his own little world where there's him, Annette and his virus, and that is really all. I bet his own brat doesn't even remember what he looks like! And _nobody_ seems to be doing anything about getting this subject into a damn lab! It speaks, it thinks, it acts, it even has a sex! It's impossible for a tyrant! Tyrants are asexual and thus aren't able to reproduce. Only a handful of people in the whole of United States can even _be_ one, and here we have one that _no one_ can remember working on, there's no information or documentation on it. And they won't let me have her!".

Wesker stood up without realizing it and slammed his closed right fist on the surface of his desk.

"I would love to be able to dissect this tyrant to see how she can exist. Hell, even better because it doesn't have to be dead to be dissected, as with its regenerative qualities she would easily be able to survive a routine autopsy. And that way, we'd be able to see how she has a sex, and thus how maybe she can breed. So few people have the correct DNA match, if we could impregnate it, if she is capable of producing offspring, it would be the most significant development since the first tyrant was created. I would give my soul to work with it", he calmed somewhat as he sat back down, "At least I would, if I hadn't given it to work with Umbrella many, many years ago".

He laughed out, not even caring that the Dictaphone was on and still recording every second of it.


	9. Chapter 9 Getting STARS 1 way or another

This GED thing is going to last the whole day, Shakahnna thought to herself as she was seated in the back of a classroom on the first floor of Raccoon City High School. In the room that had approximately thirty chairs, each with a folding writing area for it, about half of them had a person taking the test just like she was. She did notice that most of those individuals were ten to thirty years older than her. But she didn't spend too much time thinking of it because she was feeling that there were better things she'd rather be doing rather than having to spend almost all day with the current test. Although conversely, there were also allot worse things that could be wasting her time, like being in the presence of Penny. That would definitely be much less enjoyable. 

Although if the information hadn't floated into her mind, similarly to how the facts had back when she was being transported to court in the car with Chino and Donnelly, then she'd have been struggling with how difficult this exam was, rather than being bored. But the answers were entering the girl's mind almost right after she was done reading the questions, so they basically wrote themselves. And while this would've been a good thing if she had been allowed to leave the classroom once every part was finished, the reality was that she couldn't leave the area regardless of how quickly she reached the end of each section. So after the fifteen to twenty minutes she needed to finish every part of the exam was done, she eventually found it pleasant to simply lean back on the timber chair and watched the world go by as she enjoyed the silence. 

Shakahnna knew that, although one had to legally be 18 years old to take this test, an exception was made in her case. She just wasn't sure whether that was due to her having no personal memory of her age or because the mayor's family had adopted her. 

Either way, peaceful silence lasted for the first two sections, but upon the end of the third one, the teenager ended up looking outside the nearest window to keep boredom away. The act of trying to imagine the daily lives of every person she saw there was an interesting endeavor, especially since she started wondering what kind of background each individual was coming from.

It was only a few seconds after she first began looking outdoors that she heard a low, moaning sound emanating from outside the classroom. So she turned her head around in curiosity of what it was, only to be surprised when she saw that she was suddenly alone in the square-shaped room.

"What the fuck…?", she heard herself whispering as her eyes widened and she was suddenly not bored any more.

"Where is everyone?", Shakahnna next thought out loud as she stood out of her chair and cautiously made her way towards one of the two doors to get out of the classroom.

She did not know what had happened, but couldn't think of anything to do except to check outside in the corridor, to both the school in particular and the neighborhood around it in general to hopefully answer some of her questions. The teenager didn't realize she was holding her breath as she opened the door, placing herself in a ready stance in an attempt to break in half anything that might be lurking behind it.

There was no sign of life in the dark hallways that greeted her, but the fact that it was dimly-lit alone was a problem to be noticed. It had been daytime just a couple of minutes ago, but now it was suddenly nighttime instead. There were also no lights operating within this building, the only source of illumination coming through the few windows from the nearly-full moon outside.

"OK, if I fell asleep during that stoopid, boring test, fair enough. That's understandable", she uttered to herself as she left the classroom behind and ventured into the hallway, "But couldn't someone have woken me up?".

Shakahnna didn't have long to ponder why she had apparently fallen asleep in a classroom while surrounded by dozens of strangers. Added to that was the fact that she knew she was never able to sleep for more than a few, short hours at a time at most, and this was when she was in an environment that was as safe as possible. But now, she had slept for what appeared to be ten straight hours, through the evening and into tonight. With this being the summer season, there was some amount of daylight outside even as late as 8:30 PM, so the dark sky outside meant that it must've been at least 9 PM at the present time.

And why the hell hadn't anyone woken her up before everybody left to go home?

"So now I get to be lectured on how it's a sin just cause came home late even _without_ the pleasure of being with Chino", she sighed to herself in frustration.

Getting angry wasn't going to help her situation, so she intentionally calmed herself down as she walked down the hall and towards the nearest exit.

The teenager stayed as quiet as possible, the better to hear anyone else who was still moving within this school. So she made it a point to not think about how far her home or Chino's apartment were until she was safely outside, and only then would she figure out if she was close enough walk to either place or if Raccoon City High School was too far away. If it was the latter, then she needed to make a collect phone call from a public booth to try to find a ride. Besides, Chino was probably wondering where she is by now, considering she always called him at least once a day.

She got to take exactly three steps forward before she heard a scream emanating from another part of the floor she was on. It seemed to belong to an adult male, and he was in a lot of pain or experiencing much fear, or both. The redhead didn't think of a plan of action. Instead, she instinctively bolted towards the source of the noise which she estimated to be down the long hallway, past several closed classroom doors, and then around the left corner. 

Shakahnna reached her destination within a few moments, as expected, except she hurried past the left corner and stopped cold when she realized that no one was there. She inhaled and exhaled once, simultaneously wondering what in the world was happening, before she heard the same voice yelling out the same scream, except this time it came from the floor above hers.

In another place and another time, the girl would've stopped to think about how the current situation wasn't making sense. She had no idea who was screaming out in pain or fear, nor how that person had been moved, against his will, to the second floor of this establishment by the time she ran towards the original source of the noise. But this wasn't the time for such questions, as a follow-up yell was heard from the second floor, telling her that whatever was causing that person such anguish was still there, and still very active. So Shakahnna was on her way to the nearest staircase before she bolted through the metal doors and ran up two zigzagging flights of stairs.

Finally emerging through another set of doors as she reached the second floor, the redhead looked around frantically as the entrance to the staircase slowly swung closed behind the girl. She covered every possible corner in the equally-dark hallway here, but to no avail as she was alone yet again. Not a single sign of people or a struggle could be found, despite her being sure that the second and third screams had emanated from this very spot.

"This is too weird even for my taste", she whispered to herself as she continued turning around on the spot where she stood, wanting to make sure no one was hiding in the shadows and planning to ambush her.

She was considering the option of either continuing her search or just leaving the school altogether and calling for help, that most likely being Chino and Donnelly as opposed to any members of the RPD who were on duty at this time. She hadn't decided which choice to pick when the girl felt what she could only describe as pressure on the back of her head. Inhaling, Shakahnna turned her head around, looking over her left shoulder, not sure why she thought she would see someone behind her. 

She felt a mixture of anxiety and confusion when she still felt no one there.

"Oh, fuck this! I'm so sick of this bullsh…", she stopped in the middle of her louder complaint when she caught sight of an individual who was standing about thirty steps away, halfway down the hall.

The redhead did her best to quickly analyze this man, as even the way he calmly stood and watched her was unusual. He said nothing, and didn't walk towards her, or try to hide or run away. He instead remained standing in place, most likely studying her the same way she was doing to him.

It was only then that Shakahnna noticed something truly worrying about this person. While he stood next to a window that allowed the moonlight to shine through, he himself did not cast any shadows whatsoever on either the walls or the floor. In fact, she couldn't see his physical form at all, as his entire body itself appeared to be one large shadow.

"What the fuck…", she started before she stopped herself, thinking of a better way to address this mysterious person, "Are you… feeling alright?".

She never got a reply from him. Instead, her hearing capacity was tested as an earsplitting scream was heard simultaneously from every direction. It was impossible to tell if the previous three yells she had taken notice of was part of them, but this current sound seemed to be emanated from dozens or even hundreds of screamers, as opposed from just one.

The teenager didn't even have the time to cover her ears with each hand because the walls around her and the floor beneath her feet began to shift, only adding to the current confusion. 

The brief distraction from the shadow-like man had cost Shakahnna valuable seconds which could have otherwise been used to pay attention the sea of clawing hands which had burst forth from both the floors and the walls. Hundreds of hands from the floor alone tried to latch onto the girl's ankles while others from the wall used skeletal fingers to dig into her shoulder, trying to keep the teenager immobile. 

Deciding that she definitely wasn't going to hang around to see how the entire scenery folded out, the young woman didn't waste time before turning back towards the doorway that led to the second floor and forcing the doors open by throwing her shoulder into them. 

She rushed down the stairs one or two steps at a time, even as dozens of more hands tried to make a grab for her through the staircase. She did her best to ignore them as she tried to not trip on her own two feet while heading back to the first floor because, even in her current mindset, she realized the irony of escaping the clutches of these hands only to break her neck by tumbling.

Shakahnna finally made it back to the previous area by pushing the doors open and finding the ground floor there, but then found the shadow-man casually standing on the other side of the metal doors. The momentum of the run made her stumble forward for two more steps as she was unable to immediately stop in her tracks. But finally standing still, she looked into the man's face, still unsure who or what he was. The only aspect of him that she could see was his twin blue eyes that shone amid a body that was otherwise pitch black from head to toe. 

She didn't try to say anything, not that she would know what words to speak anyway. Instead, the teenager slowly lifted her right hand towards the inexplicable creature who still stood in front of her. He didn't budge as her hand approached his torso, and even remained still when the tip of her fingers went through the shade that was his body.

The redhead's jaw dropped when she realized what was happening, as someone who simply should not have been able to exist was standing only a step in front of her. But her awe didn't last long because she next felt two giant hands grabbing her shoulders from behind before she was pinned against the very same doors that she had used to enter the first floor hallway. 

Shakahnna opened her eyes as she felt herself struggling against the inhuman restraints that kept her back pinned against metal, except she found herself seated back in the classroom where she had been taking the GED test earlier in the day. Bolting up in her seat, she looked around to see that the dozens of students were still there as most of them had finished their section and were simply waiting for the next part of the test to begin. Quickly looking out the window, the girl also saw that it was still in the middle of the day as the afternoon sun shown through it.

"I am _really_ losing it", she sighed to herself as she rubbed the haze out of both eyes.

She wasn't sure what the true meaning of any dream was, whether it was an attempt by the subconscious to communicate with the conscious mind or just a random array of voices and images that weren't ever supposed to make any sense. But whichever option sounded more correct, Shakahnna didn't have much time to think about how it related to the blue-eyed shadow that masqueraded as a person because the next section of the GED test was about to start in another minute. And she had to admit that it would be nicer on her already loose grip on reality if she opted to dismiss the entire dream as another weird dream, just like all the others she's had since waking up in the jailcell.

++++++++++++++++++++

"I don't know where you expect to be able to find half a mil for the railcar within this month's budget, Sean", Michael Warren was looking over the financial report that sat on his desk as he was seated behind the desk itself and speaking to Mr. Meega via a speaker phone.

"Unless you _want_ to let the RPT increase fares, we have to, Mr. mayor", Meega's voice replied from the phone speaker itself, "Increases in the prices of cigarettes is the first option, followed by increases for sporting events if the first doesn't cover $500,000 in the next five weeks. It's either that or you allow the public transportation system to anger riders by increasing fares for the second time in under a year. Think of the image that would give of _you_ if you allowed that to happen, sir".

"I suppose you're correct", the mayor sighed, "But how much of a rise in the price of tobacco are we talking about? And I still don't like the idea of hearing my name on the news because I approved the raising of ticket prices when it comes to watching sports live, Sean. We have enough of a problem getting ten thousand people to show up during a typical football game when the Raccoon City Hunters are playing as is. I'm not in the mood to decrease the number of spectators even more by raising their ticket fee".

"If you say so, mayor Warren", the younger man followed through, "Then I'll instruct the cabinet to concentrate on getting all the needed revenue from tobacco sales alone. Cigarette or cigar buyers don't complain much anyway because their product is already taboo. But if the half a million isn't reached within the next fiscal month, we may have to consider taxing alcohol also".

"Sounds good, Sean. How big an increase are we talking about initially? I'm hoping it won't be big enough to even make it on the news", Mr. Warren asked.

"Let's see…", Meega answered from the other end as he could be heard shuffling through several pieces of paper to find the right information.

Before the mayor's associate could come up with the answer, though, Michael Warren noticed he was being watched. It was the first time he had even realized that the door leading into his home office wasn't completely closed, but ajar. From the narrow opening, he saw a blotch of fuzzy red and two emeralds staring at him.

"Uh, Sean, let's continue this in a bit when I call you back, OK? Something just came up here that may require my full attention now", Michael turned his concentration back to the speaker when he realized that Shakahnna was waiting for him to finish the meeting over the phone before she disturbed him.

"No problem, sir. I'll definitely have the figures ready for you then", Meega said from the other end.

"Thanks a lot", the mayor replied before pressing one button and cutting the connection.

It was only then that he saw his adopted daughter slide into the office between the opening of the door without pushing it too much further out. She made her way as far as the first table in his office while she was carrying a tray with two dishes that were covered with a metal lid each. She placed the tray on the small table before turning to address him.

"Hi, Mr. Warr…", she started speaking, but then interrupted herself, "Uh, dad. I made us some breakfast".

She noticed the visible reaction he instantly showed on his face as he seemed overjoyed that she took his suggestion to refer to him as her father.

"Oh, Shakahnna, sweetie, that was such a nice thing to do", he stood up from behind his desk, "I've really been enjoying our taking meals together over the last few weeks. Joanne was always much happier in the company of her friends rather than us. It's so nice that you've made the effort".

"So where would you like it?", she asked with a smile on her face.

Her adoptive father stifled for a split second at the double entendre, but also recognized that she was obviously only talking about the tray itself.

"Hm, well, on the desk would be fine, sweetie", he stifled again, this time followed by a short laugh as the teenager looked at him with a perplexed look on her face.

Shakahnna picked up the tray again before placing it on the surface of the desk that had the least clutter.

"Pull up a chair, please", the older man generally pointed at one of the many seats that were in his bureau.

"So how did the test go last week? I know I had asked you about it before, but are you feeling nervous about getting the results sometime next week?", the mayor continued as she brought a leather chair to within a step of the other side of the desk, so that they were both facing each other.

"Well, not really, it's done now. Nothing I can do is gonna change the result now, so what be's the point of worrying about it?", she shrugged as she sat down and removed one of the lids off the tray to reveal four French toasts with four pieces of sausage and two poached eggs.

"Oh, that looks lovely", Michael exclaimed as he saw the food.

"Herman's has been teaching me a few tricks in the kitchen", she was glad to see that he liked the breakfast as she then removed the second lid that covered her dish.

"The adoption papers should be finalized by next week also", he informed her as he started slicing a sausage while she reached for her own plate and took one of the two bagels that were covered with cream cheese.

"That's still assuming that no one comes forward with information regarding your biological parents, of course", the mayor continued, "But if that does not happen, we'll of course be happy to keep you as a permanent member of our family".

"No one be's coming to claim me", she shook her head as she took a bite of the bagel.

"What makes you say that, sweetie?".

"I can just tell", she sounded somber, "I think you're stuck with me".

"Oh yes, I think it's utterly awful to have a daughter in the household who learns how to cook so she can have breakfast with me", he chuckled, "Joanne would sooner be dead than do domestic chores like that, much less do them to spend time with her parents".

It took him a few seconds to finish swallowing the bit of meat and eggs he had in his mouth.

"Speaking of Joanne, how are you getting along with her?", he asked next as he added a new piece of sausage to the toast.

"I've passed her a few times between rooms here at home. I think she may have grunted a couple of those times. So we can assume that there be'd some form of primitive communication there. Although come to think of it, she probably didn't like all those blonde comments I made", she recollected with a cheeky grin.

"Joanne is perfectly behaved here, as well as when she's attending social events with us", Michael was disappointed to hear her version of that relationship, "But I _do_ think she's a bit spoiled. At the same time, though, she gets along with her mother much better than with me".

"I don't be worried about her, though. If she doesn't like me, then I'll just have to torment her all the more. She's so easy to wind up", she went on as she finished the first bagel with a grin, "I'm just be concerned about what's gonna happen when I acquire the test results next week. If I passed it and everything then how soon do I get to go play with the policemen and start working at the RPD as a secretary, Mr..W… erm… dad?".

Shakahnna knew that she should at least try to get used to the idea of referring to the older man as her father.

"Well, your age, or should I say, your lack of one, would still be a problem as far as you trying to go to the RC police academy just yet, sweetie", her adoptive father replied.

"No, but see, I _do_ know that", she explained, "I member you telling me that I may have problems with becoming an officer cause of my lackage of age, M… dad." Shakahnna verbally stumbled briefly, "That's why I had asked how long till I get to be a secretary".

"Oh, I'm sorry. Must've misheard you", Michael rubbed his forehead with his left hand while he was still holding a fork in his right one, "Being employed as a secretary should be fine. Most of the time, you'd have to fill out an application at city hall and wait for an interview and such, but I'm sure I could bypass that and have you working in that place within a couple of days if you'd like".

"Really? So I could just skip everyone else who's waiting? I mean it's not fair but it's not fair in my favor, thus I approve", she was dead serious, "But how's _your_ day been going so far?".

Michael Warren cleared his throat in anticipation of his own reply to that question. He had gotten used to the idea of not being able to answer such questions from his adoptive daughter with one-word replied such as 'fine', as Shakahnna would always prod at him when he didn't give detailed descriptions of how he felt. 

"Well, unfortunately, right now we're having a budget crunch where the city's funds are being depleted", he told her the truth, "When you came in, I was having a discussion on how to keep the city's public transportation costs from going up even further than they already are".

"You could always legalize brothels", she laughed lightly as she remembered the question she had asked Donnelly when the older man had driven her and Chino home many nights ago, "If you taxed it, you'd then make a fortune".

"I think the ramifications of me suggesting that idea would cost me many more votes during the next election", he was surprised at her suggestion, even if he couldn't be totally sure whether she was being serious or not.

Then again, he also didn't wish to satisfy his curiosity when it came to that question.

"My cabinet guesses that we'll lose the minimum amount of votes by taxing things like tobacco and alcohol", he explained further as he took another bite of breakfast, "But many more votes than that if we increase the price of our railcars. Now, as far as suggesting that brothels should be added…".

The older man laughed at the mental image of himself saying that to the entire city via a press conference.

"Let's just say that whoever ran against me would be able to win regardless of what issues he stood for during the next election. He'd just have to accuse me of being anti-family", he went on once he was done chuckling.

"But it makes sense!", the teenager insisted, "Why does it be a crime or even being against families when someone who's not married wants to pay money for sex? Look at Amsterdam. They made it be legal and it lowered violent and sex crimes. Is that not pro-family? Am I the only one who's confuzzled by that?".

"No, I suppose not, sweetie, but politics isn't about what makes sense. It's about image first and trying to make a difference second, and the image in this day and age, at least, is one where voters want leaders who believe in the husband and wife along with 2.3 kids only", the mayor went on as he was finishing up the food on his plate.

"Well mind me to never run for any office, then", his adopted daughter sighed, "Not that I think I'd have gotted elected anyway, not with that mugshot of me after I got dragged out of the woods still being about".

+++++++++++++++++++++

"So when are you gonna sing for me, Chino?", she latched onto the young man's right arm while in his living room, squeezed tight and placed her cheek on his shoulder, "Pleeeaaase?".

"I haven't sung in front of anyone since… Ever, Shak", he countered as he pleaded with her.

"You don't love me", she pouted, knowing it was the best way to get someone to do what she wanted.

"Is that like the catchphrase to be used every time you don't get what you want?", he questioned.

"That depends", she raised her eyes to look up at him, "Is it working?".

"No", was his frank answer, though he knew that his defenses were broken down.

Instead of relying on a verbal response, Shakahnna stuck out her bottom lip so it protruded beyond her upper one. At the same time, her eyes grew wider as she lowered her head and kept looking up at him. 

"Alright, alright! Just stop with the lip, OK?", he gave mock annoyance.

"Still love Shak?", she had to ask before granting that request.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. But no more lip for the next 24 hours if you get what you want here", he sighed.

"Sure, if you give me what I want in the next 24 hours", she pointed out as she instantly appeared to be feeling better, as expected, "So where does the guitar be?".

"I know where's it's buried in the bedroom closet, I'll get it", he stated.

"Would you be interested in coming over and staying at the Warrens' with me over this weekend that's coming up?", she called out from the sofa as she watched him leave, "I'll even make you dinner. Plus, best of all, if you don't like my cooking, there's a butler there who can make _the_ most incredible dishes you've ever had".

"I'm sure the stay will be great whether we have 24-hour maid service or not, Shak", Chino went on as he returned with the guitar in his hand, "You know I love your company. Besides, I'm also sure that your cooking is better than you give it credit for".

"You're just bias because of your… whatever it be's that we got going here", Shakahnna laughed gently, "Do you be OK if I crash here tonight as well?".

"Of course. Whatever happened to that old hag who was tailing you all the time? Does she still insist on following you around?", the officer replied.

The girl grinned and raised her eyebrows up twice in quick succession. 

"Michael asked Elena to call her dog off, I think. That and the fact I never leave by the front door and so far have only seen her like once this week", she informed him, "The Warrens have her give me my allowance until I get an actual account. Plus seems she's quite sensitive about her age".

"I don't know whether to keep disliking her or feel sorry for her, then", the young man sat down on the sofa next to her and placed the guitar on his lap.

"So what do you feel like playing?", the redhead grinned as she happily moved closer to sit right next to him.

"First, you get to hang on to a pair of these before you pick a song, preferably one that requires a lot of music and not much voice from me", Chino reached into the only pocket that was on his shirt.

"What do you got there? A picture of Donnelly in an 'adult' situation that I can photo-copy for everyone at the RPD once I be working there?", she lightly clapped her hands together in anticipation.

"Nooo, I'm sure you'll be too busy to pull such pranks when you're employed in our building, Shak", he gave a sarcastic sigh, "As cool as it's gonna be to have you working there with us, we can use you as an instructor especially since that new captain is really pushing for more hand to hand combat as well as firearm training. Which doesn't make much sense considering the crime rate in Raccoon's virtually not there. If they do recruit you, I doubt you'll have the time making Eric's life a living hell".

"Chino, if you guys be depending on ickle old me to act as a sensei, then we all are truly lost", she laughed as she placed an arm around his shoulders, "Besides if they be doing all that extra stuff with the guns, don't know why they are bothering with the little stuff. You guys are always armed."

"Why? Don't tell me that those incredible fighting skills that you were showing off in Raccoon Forest were lost like your ability to open locks by simply touching them?", he inquired, "I _still_ have no idea how you did either one, by the way, but that's besides the point".

"Nu uh, can still take a punch with the rest of them. At least I think so", the redhead shook her head as she talked in a more serious tone while taking back the arm that had been on the young man's shoulder. 

"Been doing allot of shadow boxing and practice sets in the back garden of the Warren's place. The area is totally perfect for it. Got nothing to do when not with you, so figured might as well put it to good use. Best part is, found an ickle bit where it's basically impossible for people to see me. But can't see myself making much of a teacher. I have no patience" .

She sighed once as she only looked ahead.

"Oh! What the hell am I even bothering about this. Is not like the police chief even knows who I am. Never mind getting me in there where I can legally beat up Donnelly", Shakahnna waved her arm as she smiled again, "Might as well worry about what we'd do if we woke up tomorrow morning and we be'd as big as ants".

"Then here's something to celebrate occasions that, thankfully for Eric, may never come to pass in the real world", Chino smiled back as he withdrew the object that had been in his shirt pocket. 

He withdrew two keys of different size that were attached to each other with a metallic ring.

"The big one's the key to my place here, the smaller key's the one to my desk at work", the officer explained as he brought them closer to her face, "The only other person who's got a copy of them is Eric, so that makes you the third person who has them now anywhere".

"Ooooh!" Shakahnna gasped with pleasure and a smile lit up her entire face. "Chino, that's so sweet!".

The teenager's face was graced with a wider smile than before, "So, about my song?".

+++++++++++++++++++++

"Penny, where's Shakahnna?", Elena Warren did not look happy.

The older woman who she was addressing was sure that the answer to that question wasn't going to help improve her employer's mood.

"I have no idea, Mrs. Warren. She slipped out of the mansion once again, all without my permission or know-how", Penny told her, "Your husband's been mollycoddling that girl and lets her do whatever she wants, even if what she wants to do is totally ignore the directions I've given her from you".

"Oh, that girl!", the mayor's wife sighed in an exhausted tone of voice as she headed towards her bedroom after a long day at work, "Why can't she be more like Joanne and act like the perfect child once she gets her mandatory vacation every season?".

"I expected problems, but not the type that we're running into, madam", Penny added, silently glad that her boss was annoyed at the teenager and not at her, "With what she is, whatever that may be, you'd have thought there would be more violence".

"You know something, Penny? I don't think Umbrella's right in this instance", the younger employer replied, "The vice president did say there was the possibility that this was just a freak accident, maybe her parents were taken into the lab or something, and she got a blow to the head which knocked her out. The details are irrelevant. But they _did_ send a group of those disgusting cleaners after her, you know".

"Then how can she still be alive? Much less be alive and be just a regular person, madam?", Penny asked with genuine curiosity.

"I don't know. Maybe that idiot of a vice president sent those cleaners to the wrong address, and now those brainless creatures are lost and wandering the city aimlessly", Elena didn't try to hide her opinion on how stupid she thought the average cleaner team was, "But anyway. Have you taken care of the our 'donation' to the director of the board of education?".

"I thought I was to do that only after the girl's GED test comes back and her scores are whatever you instructed them to be", the employee recalled.

"No, no, Penny, the donation must be made now", Elena shook her head, "I want her scores to be high, but don't put her in the top score bracket, that's too expensive and will cost thousands more than Michael wants to pay. Just make sure her grades are above average, but not _the_ highest in the city. We're not shelling out all that money like we did for Joanne".

"OK, madam, I'll take care of that today. But what should I do about the girl constantly eluding me?".

"Well, within the next few weeks, the result of the physical test she took along with those psych evaluations should be here, along with the blood test she got", Mrs. Warren explained, "Once I have the results, I write up the report for WU. And if I'm right, I can get those damn idiots in their labs off my case _and_ get rid of our red-haired pest too".

Elena sighed again. It had been too long a day, and dinner and a warm sofa simply couldn't be scheduled quickly enough.

++++++++++++++++++++

It was a glorious summer day in Raccoon City. Although the sun was shining brightly in the early afternoon, it wasn't glaring enough to require most people to wear sunglasses. 

"No, it's not too good a day to be in here, so do stop whining, dude", officer Donnelly addressed his younger partner as he was staring through the targeting system of his pistol and taking aim at a cardboard target that resembled the rough outline of a man and stood fifty feet away.

"I didn't say anything, get off my damn back, dude", officer Chisholm countered as he fed a fresh clip into the handle of his own weapon.

Both men were about to place a headset to cover their ears, but Donnelly stopped short of doing so. Instead, he kept his own headset in a left grip while the handgun rested in his right hand. He then looked over to where his field partner stood just a few steps away.

"What? Why're you looking at me like that for?", the young man replied, disliking the silent stare he was receiving.

"You were thinking it, though", the more experienced officer grinned back, "I _know_ you're wishing you were somewhere other than here, in a particular mansion, perhaps? Have you even _thought_ of your job at all in the last couple of weeks?".

"I wish she wasn't living there, that's all. It's not like I think of her all the time", Chino took the bait without even realizing it.

"Dude, you are _so_ obvious!", Donnelly laughed as he returned his attention to the target in front of him, "See, a more intelligent reply would've been to deny that she's on your mind even now. At least then I would've let you spend the rest of today without constantly reminding you of it".

"Hey, _you're_ the one who just gave me a lecture about having my mind on the job", the rookie countered as he returned his concentration ahead of him also, "So if you're here to train instead of acting like we're teenagers at a bar, then we should just do that". 

"Now you're gonna imagine my face on that cardboard as you keep firing, aren't you?", his partner asked as they both placed the headsets on.

Chino didn't reply verbally, opting to only take careful aim before both men let dozens of rounds loose into the cardboard men.

"Ooh, damn! That must be the best accuracy I've ever seen from you", Donnelly broke the silence as he removed his headset and pressed a button next to him to automatically bring both targets closer to them, "Now I know what to use to help with your aim, dude".

"Very funny", Chino smiled back, "But what makes you think this is the first time I'm imagining you there?".

"So, my son, talk to me here", the more experienced officer gave a sarcastic impression of a therapist, "Where do you see yourself in ten years time?".

"You sound just like my school counselor before he read my file and suggested the only thing I'd be good for after graduation was cannon fodder or a porn star", his colleague countered as he was checking out the holes his weapon had left in his target.

"Well, you _do_ work for the RPD, and you _are_ getting a lot of action of the horizontal variety while on the job thanks to your little red-headed friend. He was right on both counts!", Donnelly slapped him on the arm.

"Dude, that hasn't happened!", Chino snapped back.

"What, the former or the latter? Because if you think that the powers that be don't see us as just cannon fodder, then you really _are_ a rookie", his co-worker went on, enjoying the conversation more than Chino thought he should.

"Dude, no one here is cannon fod…", the younger man started to say.

"But then again, the frustration in your voice seemed to indicate that you really _are_ talking about the latter, aren't you?", Donnelly interrupted, "So what _were_ you two doing all night at the mansion after I drove you there?".

"We spent most of the night negotiating who would take your apartment and who would take your car if your Kevlar _accidentally_ malfunctioned one day", Chino told him, "It was decided that I knew you the most, so I should get your place and she'd settle for your wheels. Dude, contrary to how you live your life, some men don't see all women as nothing more than a conquest to see if they can nail'em in the sack or not. Shak's a great person overall, even when we're just hanging out".

"Hey, whatever makes you happy. All I can say is that, if you wanna make your move, do it fast, Steve. You don't wanna lose out to someone else in here because you took too long. But anyway...", Donnelly shrugged as he turned his attention back to examining to bullet holes left in the target that had been standing in front of him, "You think you did better than me here? I have three that hit the bull's eye, but you have five. But I also have two that hit the outermost ring here, but you have three there for you".

"Wha... What? Wadda you mean by that?", Chino's head shook in confusion as he looked over towards his partner without looking over the results of his own shooting test.

"Look there, dude, you have five holes that hit the bull's eye and three that hit the most outer ring", Donnelly pointed towards the target that was within an arm's reach of the young man.

"Not that!", Chino brushed off the subject of their shooting accuracy by waving his left hand, "What did you mean by me losing out because I took too long?".

"What, you mean with the redhead?", the older man appeared confused.

"Yeah, of course. What're you talking about?", the rookie continued pressing on.

"Dude, you mean you don't know what's going on with her and another guy from our precinct?", Donnelly explained, "There's this guy, officer Joey Frost. He's relatively new to the department, but not quite as new as you, though he should be approximately the same age as you. Must've gotten here a year or so ago, I think".

The older cop laughed a bit at his recollections.

"You know, it's funny. Frost's definitely been here for way longer than that new captain who I heard got promoted, the weird guy with the shades? I know I've seen them hanging out every once in a while", he remembered, "It's amazing how little experience you need to get promoted in here, I suppose. The weird guy must be a nephew of Irons' or something, was probably even having a family feud with him when we saw him leaving the chief's office after Irons was yelling nonstop. But how good can he be that the brass figured he'd make a good captain with so little time on the force?".

"Eric, can you tell me what any of this has to do with what you were talking about as far as Shak and this Joe guy?", Chino was running out of patience as his curiosity was left with his imagination.

"Oh, just that I've seen them hanging out since the guy with the shades became captain. He must've lost out on time with the new captain, so they've been spending time at his desk or going out to lunch when he's at base all day", Donnelly finally explained.

"For real??", Chino's face contained a mixture of surprise and sadness, "She didn't tell me that. Why would she tell me that she's only coming to see me when she's not at the Warrens' if she's got someone else on the side?".

"I dunno. But what does it matter?", the older man returned his attention back ahead of him as he replaced the used cardboard cutout with a fresh one.

"But that means she lied to me, dude", the rookie rubbed the hair on top of his head with both hands without bothering to replace the target in front of him, "When she said it was only me she was coming here to see, it wasn't true. I thought she was just with me all the time".

"But again, what does it matter when you don't think of her in that way because she's just fun to hang out with?", Donnelly turned his face to partly look at his partner. 

The hint of a grin showed on his face despite him doing his best to suppress it.

"Wait a second!", Chino pointed at the older man with an accusing right index finger.

"Dude, you are SO apparent!", the more experienced officer finally laughed out loud, "I don't think of her that way. Women aren't just for sex, you know".

The last impression he had done of his partner was followed by another round of laughter as Chino suppressed the temptation to slap him in the back of the head.

"Dude, one day I'm gonna pay you back for this, and when it happens, I'm gonna ask that you remember this time so you'll know exactly why something bad is happening to you by yours truly", the rookie promised even as he felt a sense of relief. 

Neither man paid any attention to the new officer who was approaching them until that third individual tapped on the younger man's left shoulder from behind.

"You Stephen Chisholm?", the cop asked.

"Yeah", Chino answered as he turned around.

It was only then that he saw the rank of the person who was addressing him.

"Yes, sir", Chino answered more formally as he realized he was talking to a sergeant.

"The chief wants to see you in his office now, officer", the stone-faced sergeant replied, "You're to accompany me there forthwith".

The look on his superior's face indicated that he was delivering some sort of bad news to the young man, so Chino found himself feeling anxious as he packed his firearm away in a belt holster.

"Right away, sir", he went on as he instinctively looked over his shoulder at his partner, who carried just as confused a look on his own face.

"I'll be outside the office", Donnelly visually whispered, his laughing demeanor being quickly replaced by a serious one. 

The older man watched his partner leave with the sergeant as he loaded a fresh clip into his pistol before holstering the weapon also.

"This better not be about what I think it is", he shook his head.

++++++++++++++++++++

Shakahnna hurried to unlock the new voice verification box that was situated outside the main door of the mansion. Once the steel cover was removed and the gadget was available to be used, she brought her face to within a foot of it before speaking up so her voice could be recognized by it.

"Open up because I _really_ don't have time for this", she talked out loud a moment before the electronic system confirmed that she was identified.

Hearing that the door was now unlocked, the teenager rushed through it. Seeing no one in the living room, she ran upstairs as fast as she could and didn't slow down till she reached the door to her bedroom.

Once inside the room itself, she could finally check her voicemail, which she'd been inpatient to do ever since an hour ago when she realized that Chino wasn't showing up to pick her up like they were scheduled to meet after the long and boring SAT test was over. She had waited about forty minutes before truly worrying about where he was and what was keeping him from getting to her. She had then found a payphone and called his desk first and his apartment second, both attempts rang out. So the only other option was to hurry home to find out if there was any information that shed light on the situation there because the mansion was much closer than RPD headquarters.

Shakahnna was not much of a runner, however, and she had made a huge effort to rush over to her destination. She was now being rewarded for that endeavor by what felt like a vacuum inside her chest that sucked the contents of her ribcage. But doing her best to ignore the burning sensation, she ran to check the personal phone that was in her room, as she was very eager to find out if the answering machine had a message waiting for her.

She was disappointed when she saw that the number of messages was a steady zero.

The teenager had to think of a plan, so she made one up in her mind that she wanted to call for a taxi cab to take her to the police headquarters first and Chino's apartment second, as that would be a quicker way of getting around than the city's railcar. So while still trying to catch her breath, she checked to make sure she had enough money for a long cab ride and then headed back downstairs.

The first and only person she ran into was the butler, Mr. Bustleton, so she took a hold of his sleeve between her right thumb and index fingers to get his attention.

"Herman, do you have being seen Chino, or has he called here while I was out?", she wheezed. 

"You mean the young man who was here with you a few times before, the one with the sandy colored hair?", the older man replied, "No, I'm afraid he hasn't been here. And no one called for you that I know of".

"I need to leave for a while, Herman. Could you please butter up Penny because she's gonna wanna kick my ass and…", Shakahnna stopped herself in mid-sentence even as she was flashing a smile that indicated she was in trouble and she knew it.

"But before I do, could I be using the phone that's here?", she made an adjustment to her plans at this moment.

"Of course", the butler nodded, "It's right in the next room".

"Thankies", she replied as she quickly walked over to where he had indicated.

The teenager wanted to try to call the place of employment and the apartment before heading out, so she dialed the number to his desk again. Not getting an answer after the tenth ring, she hung up and dialed the number to his apartment.

She breathed a surprised sigh of relief when she heard the phone being picked up after the third ring.

"Chino?", the redhead happily called his name.

"Shak?", answered a lifeless voice even though she recognized that it was his.

"What's wrong? Where are you? What happened?", she instantly noticed that something was wrong with the way he was answering.

"I… Uh… I was… The police station… And the targets… Three on the outside…", the officer murmured back, "Bull's eye and Frost… And I didn't, but they…".

"Who's on the phone, Steve?", Shakahnna heard a voice so angry from the background that it could only be Donnelly's as he addressed Chino, "Is it her? Is it that fucking little witch? Put the damn phone down".

"Chino, what…", was all the teenager got to say before the phone went dead from the other end.

"Just when I thought I couldn't get any more worried, here we are", she sighed as she hung up the phone and hurried to redial the same number.

She only got an automated message telling her that the line was disconnected. Having had enough of this mystery, she hurried out of the mansion to find a taxi cab as soon as possible.

---------------------------------

The cab just couldn't move quickly enough. The girl made her best attempt to keep up with small talk given by the female driver, but the conversation with her closest companion from a few minutes ago weighed heavily on the teenager's mind. That led to her mostly nodding or agreeing to whatever the driver's said without paying attention to it most of the time. Despite driving at roughly 30 mph, though, Shakahnna almost felt like the vehicle was moving at a snail's pace.

Upon finally having reached the spot outside officer Chisholm's apartment, she leapt out of the backseat of the car and hastily threw several bills through the open front passenger window. She didn't even stop when the driver called out from behind her.

"Miss, one of these is a fifty", the cabbie yelled to get the redhead's attention.

"Keep it", Shakahnna replied with a wave of her left arm, still without looking back.

She headed towards the front door of the apartment as the cab first stayed in place, but she then heard the car driving off at last by the time she reached the locked entrance. She eagerly placed the key that had been given to her earlier into the keyhole and noticed herself breathing for the first time when she felt the door unlocking.

Shakahnna still had her head partially lowered as she pushed the door open and entered the apartment. Thus she didn't see the obstacle she lightly collided with as she had pushed the door closed behind her with her left palm. Looking up, she saw that it was a very annoyed Eric Donnelly who was standing just beyond the closed door. She was expecting that he'd be angry after the way she heard the way he was talking on the phone a short while ago, but she hadn't thought she'd see the giant purple vein that ran vertically down the side of his forehead.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?!", the older man hissed between clenched teeth, "You wanna get your grubby little paws into the house too?".

"Donnelly, you've been snorting the evidence again?", the teenager locked eyes with him, still wondering what he was talking about.

"He's gonna see through you sooner or later", the officer continued, "You're nothing but a fucking parasite, turning everything that you touch into shit. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if your parents left you in the woods to die on purpose".

Shakahnna's mouth was temporarily open at what she was hearing. But she managed to regain her train of thought as she intentionally came closer to him.

"You wanna go for round two, Donnelly? You know, it's not my fault that your hookers refuse to suck on you", she countered, "But you _won't_ talk to me like that again".

"I'd love to, because you're not getting to screw up his life again after this", the cop used both his arms to push her backwards in an attempt to cause her to lose her balance.

The teenager took two sudden steps backwards before her back slammed into the closed door. She was getting ready to introduce her foot to the area in between her opponent's legs when she saw a dazed Chino staggering from behind the older man.

"What's going on?", the younger man inquired in a dazed tone, as if he had just woken up.

"Nothing, little miss shit-for-brains here was just leaving after not having gotten the message over the phone that she wasn't wanted", Donnelly answered without turning around to look at him.

"Chino, are you OK?", the girl ignored the comment and addressed the rookie cop also, noticing that his appearance reflected how he was talking on the phone.

"Come on, Eric, we've had enough strife for today", Chino finally spoke up, his voice sounding more sore as he continued, "It's nothing to do with her".

"How the hell can you say that, dude?!", Donnelly partly turned his face to look at him over his shoulder, already confident that his female antagonist wasn't going to take him up on his acceptance of the offer to go for another round of fisticuffs.

"She didn't do anything wrong!", the young man waved with his right arm, "If anything, it's my fault for not listening to you that night".

"Chino, what's happened?", Shakahnna finally interjected, knowing she wasn't going to like the answer to the question.

"Your little stunt a few weeks ago where you insisted he comes along to that damn mansion that you…", Donnelly started on what promised to be a long rant as he turned back to face her.

"I got suspended for sleeping over at the mansion the night you got jumped", Chino interrupted, knowing he could give a summary version of the events, "And I don't think my comments later on in court helped either after you were discharged. But either way, it's a suspension with intent to dismiss".

The rookie officer looked like he might cry as he gripped the hair at the top of his head with both hands.

"I don't even know what I'm gonna tell my parents", his voice started to shake, "After all that time and money they spent on me to get this far, to tell them that it's all over and why. I don't even have any degrees after high school to do anything else. Not like I can say I quit on purpose because I wanted another job".

"And there was only three of us who knew he was there. And I sure as hell didn't say anything to anyone, and neither did Steve", Donnelly interjected as he pointed an accusing left index finger towards her, "So that only leaves you. You must've slipped this to someone".

"But I _didn't_, nu uh, not on purpose, not by accident", the teenager shook her head as she saw Chino turning around and heading back towards his living room.

Donnelly eventually followed the younger man also, leaving her alone to do the same. She spotted Chino seated on one sofa with his elbows resting on his knees and his face lowered towards the floor as his more collected partner sat quietly on a chair a few feet away. She wasn't sure if the less experienced officer had left the hallway because he was in a daze or because he hadn't believed what she was saying and thus couldn't bear the sight of her at the moment. And if suspecting such an idea wasn't upsetting enough, seeing him in such a state was all that was needed to create a tightness in her chest.

Shakahnna had to think of something to say and, more importantly, something to do.

She knew for sure that the information hadn't been divulged on her part. So that left only her adoptive parents, Penny and the guard at the front booth of the mansion who had seen the officer there on the night in question. At the same time, though, she had to remember that Elena Warren was only working in the private sector, as her husband was the mayor of the city and thus the one with the real power in the household. Penny and the guard at the front gate were merely employees, and thus had nothing to gain by having Chino fired.

Also, the teenager gasped slightly when she recalled the only two individuals who were present to witness Chino's outburst in court after the charges were dropped against her. One of them was Sean Meega, who as far as she could tell, was only an aide to the mayor's office, while the other was the Michael Warren himself. So the only person who had the power to order the young man to be fired, the information to justify it and the position to gain something from Chino's removal was her adoptive father. After all, if what Chino had exclaimed in open court had been true and the entire adoption was only a media stunt, then discrediting an avid critic like him for such a seemingly criminal act would surely be useful.

"Chino, sweetie, I know you're upset with me, but I'm gonna go sort this out", she spoke up after several seconds of quietly deliberating her options, "I'll come back, but if you decide you don't want me to be here, just leave a note and I'll slip my keys under the door".

Without saying anything else, and also without waiting for a response from the young man that she feared may be a confirmation of how she suspected he felt, she turned around and bolted out the apartment. Neither man had said anything up until the time she closed the door behind her.

Hoping that she still had a home to return to in the future, Shakahnna walked away as she started to formulate a plan in her mind, allowing the anger to take over so as to make it easier to carry out what needed to be done.

+++++++++++++++++++++

While the mayor kept an office both in Raccoon City hall as well as his home, he actually preferred the latter as the clientele was more filtered than in his regular, daytime work environment. Almost anyone could at least bother him in the city hall workplace as people simply had to request admittance, and those who were polite to his staff received it. The numerous complaints got on the mayor's nerves, as did the overly polite responses engineered by his employees to hand out to those who nagged, responses that promised to have those individuals' problems addressed on paper, but almost never in practice. But still, if Michael Warren did not have his home office to conduct his most important occupation, that being his services to Umbrella Inc, then he suspected he'd be on Prozac even before he was 50 years old. Most individuals did not know where he lived, and even fewer had any idea that he worked in that home at every given opportunity. 

Outside the 400-foot squared secondary headquarters was one desk occupied by a lone secretary, as opposed to an entire barrage of irritating yes-men. Also, his personal assistant was able to concentrate on the much smaller group of people who were first privileged enough to know of his secret sanctuary, and secondly admitted through the front gate of the mansion by a member of the live-in security staff. The service here was always impeccable, as the personnel was handsomely paid for by White Umbrella, as opposed to the City Hall employees who were merely paid by the taxpayers. That made his professional experiences at home more pleasant since the clientele was monitored. 

But unfortunately, not today.

The intercom buzzed, informing mayor Warren that he had company. The first visitor of the night was a captain from the RPD who had left countless email and voicemail messages for him through his intermediaries. Since his desk was connected to his secretary's work station via an intercom, he tried hard to not sigh, as to avoid giving his visitor the notion that the individual's presence was bothersome. But Warren would've actually preferred to see an IRS auditor instead.

"Please send him in, Leslie", he wished that he could add the words 'if you must' at the end of his statement, but knew that he couldn't due to his inability to make enemies from Umbrella's rank.

Captain Wesker strutted into the richly-decorated office room as soon as the mayor's secretary had opened the door and held it open. The 24-year old assistant promptly closed the door behind them as the uniformed RPD officer did not take his sunglasses off. Unknown to the mayor, the younger officer locked the door behind him from inside before he turned to his right towards one of the two plush chairs that faced the mayor's desk. He ignored the bright light from the chandelier that sparkled overhead like thousands of diamonds.

The captain made himself quite at home on the chair that was furthest from the door but closest to the desk, comfortably crossing one leg over the other and locking eyes with the older politician. He knew that the mayor would be squirming at his presence and basked in the man's obvious anxiety as well as his own feelings of superiority towards him. Granted they were both technically moles for the same organization, but the high-ranking police officer also knew that Warren was by nature a very timid man, and had only been handed such a lofty position within the city because of his wife's standing within White Umbrella. This was the part of his job, real or undercover, that Wesker loved.

"So, Michael, aren't you even going to offer me coffee?", the captain first questioned with a smirk on his face, his even stare constantly drilling into the older man's face, making that one more worried over time.

"O… Of course. I'll get Leslie to… I mean, what kind of coffee would you like?", Warren started to reach for the switch to contact his secretary.

"I don't drink coffee", Wesker's smile vanished, leaving only an ice-cold gaze that refused to leave the unfortunate mayor alone.

"Cap… Captain, I really _am_ very busy here", mayor Warren struggled to keep his voice from shaking while in the presence of his larger antagonist as well as the weapon that the officer carried as part of his uniform. He'd have to demand why his staff let the visitor keep a weapon while in his home.

"Do I _appear_ to care, mister mayor?", the captain replied, seeming to get angrier, "Why have you been ignoring my requests to create a STARS branch to the RPD?".

"You… You have to understand, Albert, this isn't as simple as you're…".

"It's Wesker, first. Secondly, whatever bullshit reason you _think_ you have for turning down my application for the STARS team, which I assure you is wrong, should have been sent to me in response to my phone calls. Do you think you're above returning your calls to me, mister mayor?", any hint that Wesker might've had some respect for Warren's authority was gone by the tone of voice he used.

"Well, then, Alb… I mean, Wesker", the mayor swallowed a lump in his throat as he quickly stumbled through the mistake in his statement, "You know I'm up for re-election, and White Umbrella has not explicitly allowed for the funding for such a large undertaking within the RPD. STARS doesn't come cheap, and you know that".

The captain said nothing, just kept staring at the older gentleman.

"Right?", Warren's voice shook just enough to be noticeable at the lack of reply, "So until I _do_ hear from our respective employers, how can I possibly justify alienating them by approving such a project? I won't go behind Umbrella's back by biting the hand that feeds me".

"Do you have ANY idea how incompetent those so-called officers from the RPD are?!", Wesker snarled, a twisted expression on his lips revealing the combination of anger and outrage that he felt, "I have special plans for our boys and girls in blue, but NOT the way they're trained now. The RPD as it is now is too busy literally shooting itself in the foot to be of any use to me, and you're worried about losing your position as head bitch of White Umbrella?".

"I hardly think that resorting to name-calling is appropriate during this discussion, captain", Warren's facial expression hardened in turn, his tone of voice becoming more strict and less afraid due to the insult.

The RPD captain found himself being surprised at the man's bravery, even if it was only for a short time.

"You listen to me, little man", the officer's astonishment melted away within seconds to reveal his usual demeanor, "I want STARS here in Raccoon. And so does my, how you say, good friend".

Wesker's lips parted into a wicked smile.

"Granted his reasons for wanting STARS here is different. _He_ thinks he's improving the RPD, making it more ready to serve as back-up for Umbrella Security in case of an accident. That's why he's the useless idiot who needs me to do his work for him, because he can never do it by using his own methods. Useless fuck…".

The captain sighed.

"But I digress, he's not important now. What _is_ important is that I get STARS here under my command, and _you_, mister mayor, are going to make it happen for me".

"Then you get the official approval from your superiors, captain, and I don't mean Irons", mayor Warren shot back, showing more backbone than the RPD officer would've preferred him to have.

Wesker's entire face wrenched in a knot of fury that distorted his features and made him appear to be a vulgar caricature of his usually handsome face. Warren's body shivered involuntarily.

"You got some BALLS talking to _me_ that way, considering you're nothing but your wife's little bitch!", the captain sprung up to his feet, leaning forward on the mayor's desk and bringing his face to within a foot of the older man's head, "You're the only man in power who's too much of a pussy to even have an affair. You're scared of a _woman_. Your secretary out there, why the FUCK aren't you banging her?! I could've fucked her before I even came in here, she's _that_ gagging and YOU, you're not even a man! You have the AUDACITY to say 'no' to me?!".

This side of Wesker didn't like it when he didn't get his way.

Warren was shaking violently in fear by now, as if he was outdoors in the middle of a snowstorm without any heavy clothes on. He instinctively reached towards the intercom button to reach his secretary, not that he believed she could do anything against the armed RPD officer, but simply to have another person in the room. He reasoned that the presence of a third individual in the office would at least keep the enraged captain from committing bodily harm. But before his hand could even find the switch to press it, Wesker's demeanor calmed down, the younger man's rage disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

The blonde-haired officer exhaled once and relaxed as he sat back down on the large chair that was facing the mayor's desk. He cracked his knuckles as he stretched his hands at an arm's length directly in front of his chest and returned to his previous, calm conduct, as if his outburst had never happened.

"So, mister mayor, am I to assume from that odor that you shat yourself?", he laughed heartily to himself for a moment before his facial expression was serious again.

Warren was in no position to answer, gripping the edges of his desk to the point where his knuckles were white.

"Tell you what, then", the captain's tranquil voice continued, "You know what they say a parent's worst nightmare is?".

Mayor Warren didn't answer at first, but eventually shook his head quietly when he realized that his antagonist was intentionally waiting for his reply before carrying on with the planned statement.

"A parent's worst nightmare is to outlive his or her children, or so I'm told", Wesker informed him, "So tell you what. You do as you're fucking told, else I'm going to take that pretty little daughter of yours, inject her with the virus, or maybe something else, if you catch my drift".

He paused to grin.

"And then I'm going to send her home one rotting piece at a time", the officer finished before leaning back on his chair and folding his arms, promising the mayor that he was not bluffing.

Before mayor Warren had time to pretend to know what to say, the intercom came back on, with Leslie's voice sounding from outside the locked office.

"Sir, it's…", the secretary started to inform him.

"Not now!", the mayor hissed into the receiver.

"But sir, it's…", his assistant tried to notify him.

"Send them away! I'm not seeing anyone else!", Warren abruptly shut the intercom off, making it impossible for his secretary to say anything else.

An aggressive shaking of the doorknob followed, indicating that someone from outside the office was trying to come inside. He could not tell whether it was his secretary who was trying to enter the room or not, but both men then heard an angry female making demands from behind the locked door. Wesker could not identify who the voice belonged to, but he was able to see that Warren got a knot in his throat and recognized who it was.

A thundering bang echoed throughout the office as the locked door burst open from outside, sending pieces of wood and metal flying in every direction. An obviously female figure walked through the open doorway.

The girl appeared to be in her late teens due to the skin-tight green vest and black jeans that showed off adult curves in her body, but the youthful complexion made her look younger. She was followed by a trail of red hair that almost reached down to her waistline and as the light from the chandelier shone down, it made the hair appear as if it was on fire. Her emerald green eyes sparkled in a livid fury that was directed towards the mayor.

"You think THAT would keep me out?!", Shakahnna barked at her adoptive father.

She stormed forward, marching towards his desk as Warren found himself standing up, while she walked past Wesker without even acknowledging his presence.

"Shakahnna, honey, please, not now", the mayor pleaded, worried more about her than about himself due to the company of the other Umbrella operative.

She, in her turn, did not even seem to notice Wesker standing up.

"Actually, _no_, I think that now is the perfect time!", she hissed back.

The captain was amused by the spectacular interruption despite his desire to have Warren agree to his terms before he left the mayor's home. But he did know that it was the creature who had been the center of such controversy and debate among White Umbrella's upper echelon. Not to mention how badly he wanted to get his hands on this particular specimen. Of all places to run into her, he didn't think she'd be home when he was harassing Mr. Warren about his STARS team.

Her ability to easily break the door down certainly seemed to confirm his suspicions and fit in with his theory. Too bad he had been unable to get his proverbial talons on such a potentially intricate tyrant. If she wasn't a genetic experiment, Wesker thought he'd get on with her rather well because she was more interesting than most people, as proven by her desire to break a door down before beating someone up. That was contrary to most people who'd just send someone else to do that task for them.

The fact that his employer's politics prevented him from any kind of experimentation on her, instead allowing her to run around like a typical teenager, only added fuel to the fire of his resentment after having his STARS request be delayed.

"Ah, Shakahnna, is it?", Wesker was barely on his feet in a standing position when he saw her right palm slamming into his shoulder and forcing him back hard into the chair. Before the surprise had time to register on his face, he also felt her left knee being pushed between his legs in order to keep him from standing back up. Simultaneously, her right hand gripped his throat and the right thumb curled so as to be pressed against Wesker's adam's apple.

"Shut the fuck up!! Did anybody ASK you?? If I wanted the opinion of one of daddy's dogs, I would've thrown you a bone!", her voice dripped with stinging sarcasm, "Did I throw you a bone, doggy??".

Wesker's mind was absorbing so much new information that it was all he could do to keep still. For starters, he was getting tired of repeatedly being referred to as a dog. But for now, he knew he had to assess the situation. 

He had never even considered the possibility that Shakahnna might've been part of the Warren household, but the fact that Mr. Warren was worried about her showed that there was some kind of bond between him and the girl, which was perfect. He had always thought that mayor Michael Warren had one daughter, that being Joanne, but here was this tyrant who, granted was more to his taste, seemed to claim that the mayor was her father too. 

He knew he could use this situation to his best interest by using her as both a bargaining chip and for experimental reasons. He got the chance to do just that when the one that the mayor called Shakahnna released the grip on his throat and removed her knee from between his legs before turning around to face her supposed father again.

"Shakahnna, baby, honey, _please_ you have to go now", Warren was pleading at this point, more scared by the captain's lack of action as he saw the younger operative surveying the situation rather than reacting angrily and countering from behind her when he had the chance. The only thing more dangerous than Wesker being irate was Wesker being calm and calculating when he was displeased. 

The officer's mind was racing with the choices that were available to him. He ultimately decided to put together a new, spur-of-the-moment experiment to test her reflexes, just to make sure that she truly was the same specimen who was locked up in the RPD basement and who had killed the cleaners sent by White Umbrella.

The captain moved up from his seated position and swiftly reached for the teenager from behind with a right arm. His movement was quicker than all except the most elite eyes to follow. But in this case, his right wrist was smoothly gripped as the young woman spun on her heel in anticipation. Shakahnna twisted his wrist with her left hand until his palm was facing the ceiling before using her right hand to deliver pressure underneath his elbow, pushing it against its natural direction. Her reaction resulted in his face being brought to within a few inches of hers.

"I wouldn't bother if I were you", she hissed into his face and pushed the officer back into the chair, "Stay".

"And as for YOU", Shakahnna turned back around and pointed at the older man, "I can't believe you did this! What kind of father ARE you?? I'm supposed to be your child, your youngest child, and you fucking snake, how could you do that to my best friend?? My _only_ friend??".

"Sweetie, what are you _talking_ about?", the mayor could see he wasn't going to be able to persuade her to leave until he calmed her down, and getting her to exit this hostile situation, and leaving the RPD officer, was the most important issue at this time.

"Steve Chisholm", she growled, "_Officer_ Steve Chisholm. You know, that guy you had suspended because he cautioned you against using me as a political tool. You remember him. You… You ASSHOLE! He's the only one who speaks to me and doesn't look at me like I'm a freak. You're punishing him for trying to defend me. What the hell kind of a man does that?! Now he hates me and it be's ALL YOUR FAULT!! And mine for every falling for your BULLSHIT!".

Her voice finally leveled out after that last outburst.

"And you know what? Maybe he's right. If this doesn't prove that this was all just a publicity stunt, I don't know what does. I don't know what fucking does".

She stopped, but only long enough to catch her breath.

"I'm sure our good friend Ben from the Raccoon City Press would be really interested in this. Maybe I'll pay him a visit. Some fucking parent you be. With family like this, who needs enemies?".

Warren opened his mouth to protest, knowing well that he needed to lie to get what he wanted.

"I didn't know, honey. I didn't know that Chisholm was suspended", he pleaded.

"You'd better fix it within the week, fuck you better fix it by tomorrow, because if you don't, then I'm going elsewhere, which I'm sure to you doesn't sound so bad, BUT I'm gonna make sure that EVERYONE knows why. Think of the PR nightmare then, _dad_. I'm NOT gonna be played by someone like you".

She was done screaming. She turned to leave, walking towards the broken doorway and the worried secretary who looked into the room from just outside it.

"I hope that one day you earn the right to be called 'dad'", she said with a hint of sadness, "I thought I was gonna have a home here. Apparently not".

With that, she was past the mayor's assistant, out of the office and gone.

Mayor Warren sighed with exhaustion, his heart still pounding in his chest. He rubbed both his palms vertically across his face, trying in vain to make the stress that he felt disappear, before lowering his arms. He gave his secretary a fake smile, knowing he had to have his priorities straight, all the while under the constant watch of that detested stare by the younger Umbrella operative.

"It's OK, Leslie, everything's fine", Warren told her before she had a chance to ask, "No need to worry. I'll call someone from the city to have this door fixed tomorrow".

"Are you sure, sir? Would you like me to see if…", his assistant tried to offer help.

"No, really, no need for you to do anything. I'd just appreciate you not mentioning this to anyone, if you could", the mayor smiled a second time despite not wanting to.

"Of course, sir", Leslie sighed in her own turn, unsure of what to say or do.

"And take off early tonight. There's nothing else here for today", Warren went on, "The captain here will be leaving soon enough and I'm gonna call it a day".

"All right, sir. Please call me if anything new comes up", the secretary nodded and, ever so hesitantly, packed her few belongings.

She was on her way out the main door of the mansion when Wesker finally broke the silence between himself and the older man.

"So anyway, about my STARS", he started talking as if nothing had interrupted their conversation.

"Even if I were to approve your request, it's going to take at least a year for the red tape, you know that, right?", the mayor's shoulders slumped as he sat back down on his chair, wishing more than anything that the officer would leave his home.

Wesker leaned back in the chair as he fixed his hair with both hands, making sure that the recent encounter with the young intruder had not ruined his perfect representation. He then crossed his arms in front of his chest and grinned.

"I'm patient. I can wait", he replied.

+++++++++++++++++++++


	10. Chapter 10 A day in the life of a socio...

Authors note: I know you be reading this… so how comes not getting reviews? Reviews make me happy, would be nice if you are enjoying this then would take the time to let me know. Also any questions or comments. To those people who already did leave something, thankies guys :) Chapter 10 for your pleasure… 

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Shakahnna's eyes were red and bloodshot and because they were so dry, the irritation in them rose to a highly uncomfortable level after she had rubbed them raw. She grabbed what little possessions the Warrens had given her that she deemed fit to take away, as well as the money that had been part of the allowance. As far as Michael and Elena knew, the money was already gone, and thus she reasoned that they would not miss it. 

The teenager left via the bedroom window once again and was sure it would be the last time that such an act would need to be done. Although taking the cable car would have taken a lot less time to get to Chino's place, Shakahnna decided to walk as it would delay the inevitable conversation with what was possibly a former friend by now. There had been less of a sense of foreboding with barging into the Mayor's office than with the dread of imagining what Chino would say once she got back to his apartment. After all, she had to be ready for the likelihood that he was never going to want to see her again.

She didn't have a watch on her, and didn't pay much attention to whatever clocks she might've ran into on the way, but the teenager guessed that it took her between one and two hours to reach her destination. Seeing that the door to Chino's apartment was closed, as expected, she began debating the idea of knocking on it one more time to see him in person and hear whatever he had to say.

Unable to make the decision, she sat down outside on the sidewalk, finally realizing how tired her feet were. 

It was ultimately decided that she wasn't feeling brave enough to stand in place and listen to him tell her that he no longer wanted her in his life, that he was sorry they ever met as the long-term results of their relationship had all been negative ones. Besides, she reasoned, trying to talk to him now might cause him to say something he didn't mean because of the emotional state he was in. On the other hand, if she gave him a few days or weeks to calm down, he might not hate her and there may be something here that can be salvaged for the future. 

So making up her mind, her eyes started to film over again, but the teenager was determined to not cry any more. Thus, she swallowed the lump in her throat and withdrew a blank envelope and a pen along with all the money she had on her from the weeks of allowance that had accrued in her bedroom desk at the mansion. Shakahnna then roughly counted how much the cash was before she placed about three quarters of it inside the envelope itself and the last quarter back inside her pocket, just in case Chino didn't have enough money to make the next month's rent.

The next step was to use the pen to leave a note on the back of the envelope, so she started writing down what she thought could be used to explain against the allegations that Donnelly had made earlier in the day. But Shakahnna soon realized that the flat side of the wrapper wasn't nearly long enough to write the kind of message she wanted. So she eventually stopped trying to come up with a long and elaborate explanation and only marked the words 'I'm sorry' on the envelope itself. The only thing left to do afterwards was to reach into another pocket and withdraw the keys to his door and his desk at work before placing the metallic objects next to the money within the envelope also.

Shakahnna discarded the pen on the ground next to her as she stood up while licking the envelope in order to seal it shut. Then, walking back towards the door to the well-known apartment, she quietly placed the small package within the mail slot that was located at the bottom of the door itself.

The teenager felt miserable as she turned around and began walking away. She got about twenty steps away when she heard a male voice calling her name. It didn't sound like Chino's, but she turned her head around to see who it was as she continued plodding away.

Her eyes widened when she realized it was the young man who was calling for her. She hadn't heard the door being opened, or even recognized his voice considering it had changed in the last several hours, but he was most definitely standing in the open doorway as the envelope rested next to his feet.

"Shak, where're you going?", Chino called again, "Are you leaving me on my own?".

"I…", she started replying as she turned her entire body around to face his direction before realizing she didn't know how to finish that statement.

Shakahnna's head sunk down so as to not make eye contact.

"Where were you? I've been trying to call you at home for ages", the older man continued, "Hell, you left here so fast I didn't even have time to get myself out of the daze I was in to tell you to stay".

"I only'd left to make this be better, I thought I could fix this for you", she began telling him as she partly raised her face, looking almost as forlorn as he had previously, "I'm not sure if I did anything. But it be'd my fault this is happening to you! Donnelly was right, I shouldn't have never asked you to come over that night".

"Come on inside, will you?", Chino kept the door open and walked the several steps towards her until he took her hand in his and tugged her back towards the apartment entrance.

"Are you sure you two want me in there?", she had to make sure even though she was already starting to feel better deep down.

"Eric's not even here", he informed her as he continued leading her past the open doorway.

Chino let go of her hand when they were both in the small hallway and then closed the door behind them.

"And even if he was, I would _still_ want you here", he added as he bent down to pick up the envelope that was still resting on the floor, "And what's this?".

"It's keys, rent money and an apology", she replied, "I didn't think you'd wanna talk to me. I was hoping that you'd want to again some point in the future maybe if I kept outta your way for a bit. Then maybe I could've be calling you in a few weeks to see if you were feeling better and didn't hated me".

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, of course I wanna be with you, Shakky", he reassured her as he placed both arms around her shoulders in an embrace.

"Sorry this happened", she whispered back as she placed her head on his shoulder while hugging him back.

"Hey, worst comes to worst, I can join the army or flip burgers to make ends meet", she parted from the hug and watched him give a smile that was more confident than she knew he felt, "I'm just glad you're here to see me through this, first and foremost".

"You're welcome to everything I've got, Chino", she had to let him know, "But downside there is that I won't be getting any new money from the Warrens. I kinda broke down Michael's door and almost castrated some blonde bimbo that I could swear I've seen before, just don't know. But I _do_ think I passed that GED thing a while ago. I'll find work, contribute to the household here to make things easier".

"Shak, we'll worry about all those details when the smoke clears with the RPD, I'm not too worried about rent because, one, I _do_ have a bit of money saved up and, two, I'll just get another job that has me working with part-time teenagers. That's the only suggestion that Eric could make for now, anyway", he continued, "Hell, we may even end up working _together_ at Burger Kong or something".

"Where _is_ Donnelly?", she inquired while following his lead towards the living room.

"He left just a little while ago", Chino recalled, "Dude made me promise that I wouldn't do anything rash until he came by to check up on me tomorrow after work and then said he'll help me find a place that'll hire me once I either find my old resume or just make up a new one".

"You might not lose your job, you know", Shakahnna countered.

"And politicians might not lie to get elected", the officer grinned as he crashed down on the couch.

"Speaking of which, they'd do anything to protect their reputation, right?", the teenager sat down close by on the same sofa and leaned her arms on top of him, "So you're either gonna get your suspension lifted _or_ there's a squad of assassins coming here to shut me up. But I'm not letting the Warrens do this to you".

"What're you talking about?", a confused and tired Chino lifted his head to make eye contact with her.

"Just tell me this – do you still have your gun here?", she asked with a smirk on her face.

"No, they made me turn it in when they told me what was going on. Why do you need that?".

"Oh, no reason. Just means I'll have to depend on everyday items to stab or hit with in case they rely on the latter instead of the former, is all", she continued grinning.

"Huh?", the young man was confused even further.

"Just trust me on this", her tone became more serious, "But you know I didn't say anything, right?".

"Yeah, Shak, I know that", he replied.

"That's all that matters to me for now", she was glad.

"Then what was going on when I interrupted you and Eric earlier today?", Chino moved on with the topic at hand, "You two looked like you were about to go at it again".

"Oh, nothing major. I just can't seem to keep my hands off Donnelly, is all", Shakahnna gave a full smile for the first time in what felt like was ages.

At least the lump in her throat was gone. It was a start to making things right.

+++++++++++++++++++++

The day was unusual from Chino's point of view because he was suddenly not required to be at police headquarters, nor was he taking a day off because he was ill or because he had to go somewhere or do something specific. Instead, he slowly woke up in the morning without the aid of an alarm clock to suddenly jerk him out of his bed when he had been unconscious after several hours of sleep.

The young man was initially lying on his back when he groggily opened his eyes first and then rubbed them with his right hand. He then woozily turned his body on its right side and thus was leaning towards the side of the bed that was opposite from the wall. But rather than see the empty bedroom that he expected, he gasped and slightly jumped back when he spotted two big green eyes looking at him. That's because Shakahnna was sitting on the floor and next to the side of his bed with only the upper half of her face visible above the level of the mattress.

"Jeez, I didn't think I looked _that_ bad in the morning", the teenager greeted him.

The officer sighed in relief as he slowly sat up on the mattress.

"How long have you been waiting for me to wake up? Is something wrong with the couch in the living room?", he asked as he rubbed his eyes for the second time, "You should've taken the bed, you know. It's _why_ I told you to that so last night".

"Nu uh, couch be'd fine", she shook her head as she stood up on her bare feet, "Woke up about a few hours ago and couldn't get back to sleep, wanted some company, so came here to wait for you".

"Ooh, that was nice. But are you sure you're OK there? I mean, you sat there for how long?" Chino smiled as he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress before planting his feet on the floor, "I mean, it would've been a great way to wake up if I had known you were waiting for me, Shak. You really should've given me a nudge or spoken up to let me know you were here and awake".

"If you get dressed, I could make breakfast for us in the kitchen, assuming you _want_ to get dressed", she giggled, "What would you like?".

"Whatever you can make with the least amount of effort and time from whatever I got in the kitchen will be fine", he replied as he stood up in his own turn and stretched his arms behind his back.

"Do I get cuddles?", she smiled while extending her arms towards him.

"Only after _you_ change from that nightdress", the officer answered, "If Eric comes in and sees us doing anything, I'll be in trouble for even _seeing_ you like that, much less doing anything while here".

"Does that mean I'm gonna have to see Donnelly again sometime later, like ever?", she gave a mock version of a pout.

"Well, yeah, Eric's coming over to first tell me what he's heard from base and, if things go as planned, he and I are going over my best option to find future employment", he let her know, "And I'm guessing after what you told me that working for the mayor's office of public relations ain't an option".

"I should probably go out for a walk or something when he's here", Shakahnna thought out loud as she headed to get a change of clothes before planning to investigate the contents of the refrigerator.

It was then that they both heard the only phone in the apartment ringing in the bedroom, so Chino went to pick it up a few seconds after she had already gone into the living room. He wasn't sure who would be calling him just after 9 AM, but he wasn't about to forgo the possibility of finding out recent news about his situation.

"Hello?", he greeted the caller after he picked up the receiver.

"Is this Steven Chisholm?", a female voice asked.

"Yes, who's this?", the officer replied.

"This is Elena Warren, is my daughter there with you?".

"Yeah, she is", Chino sighed when he realized who he was talking to and quietly wondered why she was calling.

"I wish to speak with her, young man. Please put her on the phone", Mrs. Warren continued in a tone of voice that sounded more like an order than a request.

"I'll see if she wants to talk to you", the officer replied.

"Young man, if you wish to get your job back, then you _will_ put my daughter on the phone", Elena hissed.

Chino placed the receiver next to the phone without answering as he wasn't sure how to handle this situation. On one hand, it's not like he wasn't on his way to being fired already, so being threatened with the loss of his job wouldn't be something new. On the other hand, the woman had hinted that there was at least the possibility that her husband was solely responsible for this mess and he could thus undo the whole thing.

After thinking about his situation for a few seconds, Chino followed Shakahnna into the living room and saw her seated on the couch and going through the few pieces of clothes she had brought with her while deciding which to wear for the day.

"Whatever you did yesterday _might've_ had a big impact, because your so-called mother is on the phone wanting to talk to you", he informed her as she looked up towards him, "She said that I should let her talk to you if I want my job back. Question is, do you _wanna_ talk to this bitch?".

"If it'll help you get your job back, of course, sunshine", she jumped on her feet, "Where be's the phone?".

"In the bedroom, on the table", he let her know before she headed towards that room.

----------------------------------

"Shakahnna Warren, what are you playing at? Do you know how long it's taken us to get in contact with you? Your father and I have been up ALL night because of what you did!", Mrs. Warren started on the phone as soon as the teenager had picked up the receiver.

"Hey, Michael pushed my hand on this", Shakahnna replied in a calmer voice, "You people gave me a place to stay, but I _know_ Chino got fired because of what he said to Michael in court".

"Whatever would make you come to such a conclusion?!", Elena shot back, "Michael's been taking time every morning to have breakfast with you whenever you bothered being there. He's done all your paperwork for you. And this is the thanks he gets?".

"Hey, NO ONE else knew about Chino staying at the house except you two and the people who work for you like the iron man you got who's following me about", the redhead countered.

"I presume you're talking about Penny", the mayor's wife went on, "And if she was asked questions, could you blame her for telling the truth?".

"Then why is she following me about to begin with?! Fair enough when you thought I was a criminal but even now?", the teenager was getting sucked into an argument and losing sight of the most important demand she had on her mind, "And who exactly _asked_ Penny about…".

"You're being paranoid. This is not about who Penny was talking to as far as…", Mrs. Warren tried to interject.

"Elena, I wasn't done!", Shakahnna interrupted back, "Who exactly asked Penny about Chino's being at the mansion? You can't expect anyone to believe that someone from the RPD asked the mayor's employee about the cop who was investigating the case of the adopted daughter at random, and Penny just _had_ to tell the truth? Do you really think that anyone's naïve enough to believe that story?".

"It's mother! I think I have earned that right by now, young lady", Mrs. Warren shot back.

"GIVE CHINO HIS JOB BACK!", the redhead screamed into the receiver, having already forgotten about the use of terms even as officer Chisholm placed one of his hands on her shoulder to try to calm her down, "THIS ISN'T RIGHT! OVER ONE COMMENT?! IF YOU'D CARED ABOUT ME AT ALL, YOU WOULDN'T HAVE DONE THIS!".

She stopped screaming long enough to realize that she might've just answered her own question by the last statement she made. Truth is that what Chino had warned her as far as her adoptive parents' true intentions for bringing her to their home was probably accurate. The sooner she accepted that fact and stopped living in the fantasy world that included loving parents, the sooner she could then work with the rules at hand and try to help Chino to the best of her abilities.

Besides, she could always try to find her identity and her biological parents another way.

"If you listen to what I've been trying to tell you, Shakahnna Warren, I think it'll be to both our advantage", the mayor's wife finally replied after several seconds of silence, "Michael has gone out on a limb because this has upset you so much and called in personal favors. Do you realize how bad this is going to look for him? But he's done it anyway. We just want you to come home and this entire problem can go away".

The teenager sighed at the new information that was presented to her on the phone. She had to take the time and respond to this situation carefully. So she looked over towards Chino to read his facial expression.

"As soon as we finish talking here and you're coming home, I'll put in the call to get that friend of yours re-instated by tomorrow if need be", Elena continued talking when she heard nothing on the other end.

"_You'll_ put in the call? Whatever happened to Michael being the one who was gonna fix this?", the teenager pointed out the discrepancy in whatever she was saying.

"I mean that I'll be calling the chief on Michael's behalf", Mrs. Warren quickly corrected herself, "So when can we expect you back home?".

Shakahnna placed her free palm over the lower half of the receiver as she addressed Chino.

"She says she can get you back on the job as quick as tomorrow, all she wants in return is for me to go back to their home", she whispered to him, "Wadda you think I should do?".

"Do you trust her?", the young man asked.

"To keep her word? Yeah, I do. Would I turn my back to her? Notta hope, I wouldn't", Shakahnna added, "After how bad I busted up Michael's office, I'm surprised that they contacted me at all. They're up to something and they require me to be there. But they can get you your job back".

"It _does_ maybe mean that you not being in the mansion goes against their plans to use you in the mayor's re-election photo ops", Chino reasoned, "If they're so desperate to get you back, and they'll make this whole mess go away after they were the ones who did it to begin with, then this could be your trump card to use against them. But there's another issue here, Shak, and that is are _you_ OK with dealing with those people again?".

Shakahnna only took her hand off the receiver instead of replying to his question.

"Uh, mother?", she sarcastically addressed the older woman on the other end, "I'll be home later tonight _if_ Chino gets that call saying he's back at work. If not, then this will be just another thing to discuss over coffee with Ben. Oh, and I'm sure the social worker would be interested to hear about how I was only adopted to make the family look better".

She smiled as she intentionally took the tone of a younger child.

"And how much that messed with my head", she held her own forehead as she spoke, "It makes my brain hurt".

Shakahnna hung up the phone after not having heard any answers from the older woman.

"What in the world was that?", Chino asked of the last statements she had made.

"Just my way of letting her know I'm not playing", the teenager blinked her right eye, "I just can't imagine what it's gonna be like seeing anyone in there after what I said and done. But first things first. They get you your job back, and then you get to have me here for visits six nights out of the week while I'm bitching about the one night I need to be there out of seven".

Chino said nothing, only appeared anxious about the idea of her going back.

"And you can bet it'll be the one night when Donnelly's here, just so you know", she added with a smirk.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"First off, hand that thing over, because we're not talking about anything till you do", Elena Warren pointed at Albert Wesker's sidearm as she was seated behind the desk in one of the mansion's conference rooms.

Across the desk, captain Wesker remained seated a dozen feet away while he was dressed in casual clothes. He looked up at the wall to see what time it was. Reading 8:07PM, Elena's colleague from White Umbrella winced from behind his shades as he stared back at her.

"Even if you have my gun, I could still break your neck long before you react", the man replied, "Besides, isn't it too late for theatrics?".

"Not with my Smith & Wesson aimed at you from under the desk, you won't. And no, it's not", the mayor's wife coldly countered.

"You don't have a piece under that desk of yours", Wesker smiled back, "You're probably too dependent on the WU security system that's everywhere in this place. It never occurred to you that anyone or anything could get past the sentries that are all over. Besides, if anything _was_ strong enough to get past your armed goons, then one more handgun sure as hell isn't going to tip the scale in your favor, thus the idea of your standby helicopter that's on duty 24/7. Am I correct?".

"Albert, just hand the damn gun over. No way am I trusting your temper when it gets to take out its aggression via a cannon like yours", Mrs. Warren sighed, "And no, you're not correct. Would you like me to pull the trigger and see exactly _where_ my gun is aimed at? It may be between your shins or above your head instead of at your kneecap or chest".

Captain Wesker groaned as he finally reached for his belt holster and removed his handgun before casually tossing it in the woman's direction. Elena pushed her head out of the way as she roughly caught the weapon between both her hands and rested it on the surface of the desk in front of her.

"So, about this specimen that you need to talk to me about…", the mayor's wife started the discussion as she sat back on her revolving chair.

"When the hell are we getting her into a lab?", the officer asked, his tone revealing the lack of patience he felt.

"Now, now, Albert, what's the rush?", Mrs. Warren countered, knowing full well what his response would be.

"Stop playing games!", her colleague slammed his open right palm on the armrest, "I want that thing strapped down and me holding the scalpel over her by the end of this week".

"And I want a husband who's got one bone in his back and one in his pants, except here we are", the mayor's wife countered.

"Are you going to cooperate or do you want me to go over your head, either figuratively with our employer or literally after I cut it off and _then_ get my hands on that specimen", the man didn't see her point of view as being funny, "Which do you prefer?".

"Can't do any of those three options, Albert", Elena shook her head, "I'm White Umbrella also, thus you can imagine the backlash if one of us does anything against another without proper authorization first. And considering they gave the girl to _me_ for evaluation, I think they'd be against your idea without first asking for my input. And in your arrogance, Albert, you forget something – you and your little creepy scientists buddies are wrong. That's just an overly testosterone-filled girl".

"Are you insane?!", the officer partly rose out of his chair in angst before sitting back down, "_That's_ gonna be your recommendation when Claymont asks?".

"I'm certainly considering it", Elena remained calmer than her husband would under the same circumstances.

"This girl wiped out an entire group of cleaners, you moron!", Wesker was finding it difficult to remain seated, but still managed to do so, "And I _saw_ her take down an enforced door with one kick, and you think she's a human?!".

"Look at these, dear captain", the woman tossed a closed folder in his direction, which lightly struck his stomach before he took a hold of it.

"What the hell's this?", he asked as he opened the document.

"GED and SAT results", Elena pointed towards the pieces of paper that he was reviewing, "If you can read through those glasses of yours, you'll see that she scored higher than even you and your little freaks could. We paid several thousands of dollars for Joanne and still didn't get anything like this, and this girl gets these even before our check had cleared with the board of education. Now, I ask you, how many tyrants can you think of that could score that high on a written test?".

"And all this means exactly nothing considering you just admitted you were trying to change her scores", Wesker countered, "And how many high school nerds do _you_ know of who can wipe out a group of half a dozen cleaners? Just how intensive _is_ that physical education program that each student must go through if it makes it possible for them to pull off such feats?".

"Those stupid cleaners probably never even reached the RPD, you prick!", Elena growled, the twelve hours she had been working finally getting on her nerves.

"That theory of the cleaners having missed her as a target again?", Wesker moaned, "If they did and have never returned to WU, it means they're out there somewhere even now, which would make them be on the news by now. I can see the headline – local couple attacked by non-english speaking frogmen, Mexican and French immigrants arrested and questioned as a result".

"Regardless, Claymont and company placed me in charge rather than you, so guess whose opinion counts more when it comes to this particular question", the mayor's wife went on, "And once I hand in my report, she'll legally just be our little brat".

"You and your puppet are nowhere as important to WU as I am, bitch, so _don't_ be getting cocky on me", the captain icily replied as his hand instinctively went for his holster, only to then realize that he wasn't armed and thus couldn't use his main firearm to threaten anyone just yet.

He angrily stood up from the plush chair, making the mayor's wife wish that she truly had a Smith and Wesson handgun under her desk. Instead, she only had access to her antagonist's Desert Eagle, whose safety mechanism she still wasn't sure how to undo due to a total lack of experience when it came to using firearms.

"Albert, how far do you think your work antics will get you when you're in _my_ home?", his female colleague asked with more confidence than she felt through her ability to keep her voice under control, "You're not surrounded by a bunch of half-assed scientists who are impressed by your macho façade here, so cool it and sit back down".

Mrs. Warren anxiously waited to see the irate colleague's reaction since her left index finger was touching the surface of the hidden panic button underneath her desk. Pressing it once would've informed ten different armed security personnel that there was an emergency, as well as the exact location of that crisis.   
Before either her or the officer had a chance to act, though, the intercom on her desk buzzed, indicating someone wanted to get in touch with her. Keeping her left hand under her desk, she used the right hand to answer the intercom.

"Yeah?", she greeted the other person even as she kept one eye on the other person in the room.

"Ma'am, your daughter is here to see you", the security guard at the front gate informed her, "Should I tell her to report to you?".

"Please do", Elena replied before she signed off the intercom.

She locked eyes with her colleague in an effort to ascertain the current situation and knew that she'd be able to relax, even a bit, when she saw the wide grin on his face.

"For me? You shouldn't have!", her colleague seemed to be like the proverbial kid in a candy store.

"So do I have to open it here or do I get to take it home with me?", the officer was calmer as he sat back down on his chair and interlocked his fingers while he continued watching her.

"Neither, because once you see who you're dealing with, you'll realize how ludicrous this idea of yours sounds and maybe, just maybe, you'll get a life and return to your human guinea pigs and leave me alone with my projects", Mrs. Warren shot back.

"Why are you so adamant on getting away from my attention, Elena?", Wesker asked as his face twisted to an expression that was suddenly no longer sarcastically amused or smiling, "Is it because you're afraid that WU will one day find _me_ more valuable an asset and let me do what I want?".

Wesker placed his left palm on his chest as he continued talking.

"And when that happens, I could get my hands on your loving mouse of a husband and daughter, turn them into experiments that make them _wish_ they were dead up until the very last moment they stop being self-aware?".

He brought his face closer to her desk as he leaned forward in his chair.

"The trick to being good at this is not how quickly you can kill someone, as you probably already suspect. It's how long you can keep them alive", the officer hissed, barely able to keep his hatred of the woman under control, "And dear Michael and Joanne would make _such_ valuable test subjects. And even if they didn't, the mere JOY of seeing your face when you're underground and realize that the body parts you're sorting through used to be your own family would still make the act of cutting them open worth it".

Having ranted all that, captain Wesker relaxed back to an upright position.

"Then again, I've never heard of Elena 'the icebitch' Warren actually caring about anyone other than herself and her quest for the highest position attainable in WU", he grinned out of the corner of his mouth as he kept his eyes on her face from behind the shades, "So maybe me doing this or that to your family isn't what worries you at all. Maybe it's the fact that I'll one day personally do all that to you. Just how satisfying do you think my 'little creepy scientists buddies' and I would find that?".

The grin on his face widened a fraction of an inch.

"But I wouldn't worry, Mrs. Warren", he added, feeling proud that she didn't have one of her patented comebacks, "It's not like we're already placing bets on how many days we can keep you sane when you're underground and alone in a dark corner of Arkney".

A soft knock was heard from outside the door to the conference room, simultaneously making him suppress the maniacal smile on his face and also bringing her out of the way she was intently staring at him. It was only then that Elena realized that her left hand had been putting more pressure the panic button while he had been talking, so she made a conscious effort to bring her left arm towards the surface of the desk.

"Enter", the mayor's wife raised her voice to address whoever was outside.

The door to the conference room was pushed open from outside before Shakahnna peeked through the gap to see who was inside. In an instantaneous display of two-faced behavior, the uniformed officer stood up and turned towards the teenager with a warm and friendly smile on his face. His demeanor didn't change when he saw the redhead's eyes widening due to her having recognized him from Michael's office the day before.

"If you be having company, I… I'll just come back later", Shakahnna waved her hand in front of her face as she wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible, all while hoping that her face wasn't scarlet.

Ideally, she wanted to find a rock to crawl under, preferably for either the rest of her life or at least until the blonde-haired man left the mansion.

"No need", Wesker kept the smile on his face as he approached her and extended his right hand, "It's Shakahnna, right? Problems at home are never good, but it's better if you have some place to come to at night. Trust me, no matter how bad things are at home, they're always worse on the streets. Though, after what I've seen you do last night, I bet you can handle yourself rather well no matter what you run across".

"You… You're not mad at me or anything?", the girl uttered as she was stunned at his pleasant demeanor, though she was still partly standing at a defensive position.

"No", the officer brushed the air ahead of him with his left hand as he took her own right hand in his, "I got surprised at what happened last night during that meeting with Michael. It has been a long time since I was on the receiving end of being restrained, but if anything, I wish all my men had such good reflexes as you".

The older man slowly pulled her right hand towards his face and lightly kissed the knuckles even as Shakahnna turned her face towards Elena, her aghast expression asking her adoptive mother what was going on.

"There really is no point in you leaving just because we are having another meeting", Wesker continued keeping the hold of her hand and moved his face closer to hers, even as the teenager was instinctively pulling hers away, "Conferences like this always bore me anyway, except they _have_ to be held. I'd much rather be having lunch and discussing the latest movies we've seen rather than be reviewing which section of the city should receive an increase in patrols. But like I said, it can always wait. You have more important things to deal with". 

The older gentleman gave a reassuring and warm smile. With that, he then let go of her hand and turned towards Elena's desk.

"Mrs. Warren, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather continue our meeting till tomorrow perhaps", he addressed the female colleague who hadn't stood up from her revolving chair, "We were almost done our discussion for now anyway. And it'll give you the chance to patch things up with your daughter here. Whatever we were discussing can be concluded by tomorrow or any other day this week".

"Nu uh", Shakahnna shook her head, getting the man's attention, "I already owe you for how I acted last night. You stay here and do what you came here to do. Besides, I live here".

"Well, if you're so determined to make it up to me, then why don't you come to the party that your parents are throwing. We've known each other quite awhile you know, me and Elena go waaay back. I presume you've never had the pleasure of one of the Warrens' famous formals".

"Oh, I already have plans", she lied, telling herself that plans will be made on purpose just to keep her from experiencing more times with Joanne.

"Cancel them", Wesker winked back as he turned his attention back towards the mayor's wife, "I can promise that we'll have allot more fun than whatever you have planned. Isn't that right, Elena?".

"Oh, absolutely", Mrs. Warren smiled back as she stood up, telling herself that she needed to keep an extra eye on this man after having seen the underhanded fashion he charmed others to be on his side, "So maybe you should come, sweetie".

"Maybe, I'll see if Chino wants to come with", the teenager realized she had to relent a bit.

"Well, even if your friends aren't allured with the idea of free food, am sure you'll use some of your famous charisma", the Umbrella scientist added, "But again I promise even if you come alone, it will be a night to remember".

"OK, you kinda make it hard to say 'no'", Shakahnna found herself smiling back.

"That's wonderful, really", Wesker answered before walking towards Elena's desk, "But Mrs. Warren, I'm sure your day has been as long as mine, so I _am_ going to have to insist that we continue this at another date. I just wouldn't feel right if I made you wait to talk to your daughter, not over a routine exchange of information like this. So, can I take back the weapon I was showing you before the young lady came in?".

He stood at the opposite side of the desk and extended his right hand towards the mayor's wife, even as his sunglasses bore a mental hole in her face while he remained still. His mouth twisted in a menacing coil, momentarily giving her a reminder of the true person that she was addressing.

"Excuse me, do you be a politician?", Shakahnna asked in as innocent a tone as she could muster while she walked further into the large room, letting the door close behind her.

"Politician? Oh hell no!", Wesker's face turned back towards the teenager as he brought the smile back on it, "I'm a captain with the RPD, Ms. Warren. Right before you came in, I was showing your mother here an update that's being made on all our sidearms".

"RPD? For real?", she was surprised, even as she saw the confirmation of what he said when he was offered a Desert Eagle handgun back by her adoptive mother and casually holstered it under his shirt, "Then please put in a good word for me because I may one day be joining you ranks, assuming I don't end up back in jail".

"I'm sure that won't happen, Ms. Warren", Wesker walked back towards her, "Especially with our boys in blue and myself keeping an eye on Raccoon city. With our help, I'm sure you can do something productive with yourself". 

Having reached the teenager, the older man turned back around to face the mayor's wife.

"Mrs. Warren, always a pleasure", he gave an acknowledgement in her direction and then placed his attention on Shakahnna again.

"I'll see you at the party next week", he lightly placed his right hand on her left shoulder while having his face only inches away from hers before exiting via the only door to the conference room.

Once the door was closed behind him, Shakahnna finally locked eyes with Elena again.

"Tell you what – I make sure to smile at all the family photos, and you don't fire any of my friends. Fair enough?", the teenager offered.

"If it wasn't so late and I wasn't so tired, I'd give you a lecture, but fine, sounds good to me. Just don't run into me until we're all greeting visitors to that party next week", Mrs. Warren sighed as she walked around her desk and headed past the redhead before exiting the conference room also.

"Feels good to be home", the teenager cynically thought out loud as she then went straight to her room to call Chino's apartment to make plans for tomorrow.

--------------------------------------

Outside, Albert Wesker headed towards the front guard tower on his way out of the mansion's front yard. He withdrew a pocket radio and pressed two buttons on it with his left hand, waiting several seconds for the person on the other end to be linked with its transmission.

"It's me", he spoke into it, "Get the lab ready for an analysis of something I'm bringing in now. I'll be there in twenty".

"What do you have there?", a male voice asked on the other end of the radio signal.

"You'll see", Wesker smiled, "Just make sure you don't take a dinner break".

In his right hand, the Umbrella employee had one long strand of red hair that he held up against the light from a lamp post.

--------------------------------------

Once he was seated behind the wheel of the vehicle that was allotted to him via Umbrella Inc, Wesker placed the seatbelt around himself first while he made sure the light remained on. The shiny BMW was the latest model for this year, with leather seats and upholstery that gave off a smell which only brand new cars could carry. It was the kind of machinery that would make most politicians blush, but it only seemed to be just another mode of transportation to him.

So ignoring the lavish interior, he reached for and then opened the glove compartment as his second action. Feeling the extra clips of ammunition of his handgun, he ignored them and kept looking for the miniature microscope instead. Finally knowing that he placed his fingers around the object, he withdrew the metallic item that increased magnification by 200 times and then closed the compartment.

Wesker temporarily took his sunglasses off as he adjusted the microscope in front of his face with his left hand and the strand of hair with his right one. Staring through the looking glass, the scientist moaned in satisfaction as he saw that the cells within the hair were mutating into something else. As importantly, whatever the hair had been earlier, it didn't belong on a human head. It was a basic fact that human cells were made up of a nucleus which was surrounded by a plasma membrane. But instead of that, the girl's cells that he was staring at had a nucleus that was encircled with several rings of mitochondria with no sign of cell plasma. Wesker thought he could see a hint of Filovirus-esque structures, but he couldn't be sure under the very limited scale that this magnification was affording him.

The scientist placed the tiny microscope with the hair sample inside on the front passenger seat before he started the engine. He couldn't wait to get to his personal lab to put the good equipment to use when it came to observing this specimen.

---------------------------------------

"Mr. Ross, _do_ make sure you put this under one of the new Priscons", Albert Wesker carefully handed the test tube that contained the strand of red hair to one of his colleagues before he began placing a white lab coat on.

"What's this?", the scientist he was addressing used a pair of tweezers to withdraw the hair and then placed it in between two thin, flat pieces of glass.

"You'll have to see it to believe it, Ross", Wesker stated as he was straightening the back of his coat while returning to the primary microscope that his fellow scientist was looking down at.

"Albert, I do _not_ have time for this!", the other man exclaimed with an expression on his face which was a mixture of confusion and disappointment.

"You're real funny, Ross. You can't tell me you've seen anything like that even here", the shaded scientist lifted his bent right arm and pointed that index finger towards his colleague's chin.

"I'd say this was your hair if you ever got it dyed red", Ross placed his hands into his coat pocket as he looked into his coworker's sunglasses, "Have you been experimenting with hair colors, Albert?".

"Yes, it's red, that's NOT the part you're looking at!", Wesker snapped back, "How did you get to work here when you can't even see something that incredible that's right in front of your eyes? Does it have to jump out of the Priscon and bite you in the face before you realize what you have?".

"I have synthesizing to do. I can't stand here and waste time", Ross sighed as he turned away from the advanced microscope and walked towards an adjacent white room, leaving the other man alone.

"Must have all the brain of a gnat", Wesker let the man go as he raised the shades so they rested on his forehead and then placed his right eye against the lens after closing the left eye.

The scientist's left eye opened in surprise as he realized he was now staring at a regular human hair. He first decreased the magnification to approximately the same amount that his portable microscope had made it possible, then saw that the strand now had a nucleus which was surrounded by a plasma membrane.

"Not possible", the Umbrella employee thought out loud as he withdrew his face from the Priscon microscope.

There were only two possibilities that could explain the situation. One was that he wanted the sample in the car to be different so much that he saw something that wasn't there. The other was that whatever virus was in the redhead's veins was so evolved that, once it was removed from the carrier, it stabilized to make the host look like a regular version of whatever it used to be.

Either way, he still had no proof that the teenager who was under the Warrens' roof was anything more than a regular person. He tried hard to suppress the rage that was quickly rising in his mind, with no success

"THIS CAN'T BE!!!", Wesker screamed at no one in particular.

He angrily pulled out his loaded Desert Eagle and kept it facing down towards the floor as he walked away from his current position. A handful of his colleagues saw him marching past them with the weapon in his right hand, but from their point of view, the sight wasn't a totally unusual one.

Wesker kept going until he finally reached Area 157, which was the one where failed test subjects were brought before they were sent into the incinerator. Security for this place was one of the reasons why there was only one door to enter or exit the vicinity, and the entrance was always watched by at least two uniformed security guards who were armed with an assault submachine gun. Approaching the first armed sentry, the armed scientist met an upraised palm that was facing towards him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wesker, sir, but it's unstable, and the creatures have been acting up, and the disposable system isn't working at the same rate that the bodies are being brought in", the security guard told him.

The scientist replied by lifting his right arm and pressing the muzzle of the Desert Eagle into the uniformed man's chin.

"I have no problem with who I shoot, so I either go in there and clean up or I take out every last bit of frustration on you and your friend there", the Umbrella employee with the white lab coat countered, "So shut up and get out of my way".

The guard hesitated for an instant before slowly looking over to his partner, who nodded his head even as he undid the safety mechanism on his submachine gun. The scientist might've been allowed to have a lot of freedom in these underground facilities, but he would not be allowed to use deadly force against a member of Umbrella Security. Seeing that nonverbal response, the first guard stepped slightly aside to allow Wesker access to the door to Area 157.

"You really should watch who you threaten with that, sir", the sentinel stood next to his partner, "But sure, go right ahead. Just remember that our ability to protect you will be severely limited if you're in there and the creatures corner you".

"Don't waste time telling me things I already know", the scientist sneered as he walked past both men to reach the door, "I do your jobs even after my overtime here is over".

Without saying anything else, Wesker withdrew a plastic ID card from his lab coat with the left hand and used it to unlock the metal door. He then replaced the card into his pocket and used the same hand to open the door while he retained the firearm in his right hand. 

The moans from within the large room greeted him as he was making his way inside. Once there, the scientist closed the door behind him and felt a genuine smile creep on his face for the first time while underground.

The next sound that both security guards heard from outside the area was the repeated firing of the Desert Eagle.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"How many are there?", Wesker asked as he casually looked over the clipboard from behind the shades.

"Only two for tonight", Ross replied as he was rubbing his own forehead while both men were dressed in while lab coats before they even met.

"They're having so many problems getting the number of people I want", the first scientist grumbled under his breath, "When are they going to let us bring in our own test subjects?".

"When you convince way too many people that doing so won't attract too much attention", Ross smiled as he was glad his colleague was feeling calmer after the last time he was seen shooting zombies to vent off some frustration.

"So which is it this time? Immigrants, criminals, street trash or our former friends here who messed up their chance to climb the corporate ladder?", Wesker put the clipboard down as he headed towards the testing area.

"How the hell would I know?", his colleague sighed as he followed him down a short corridor.

Both scientists turned left and stopped when they came across two parallel steel tables that carried one adult male and one adult female on each. Both individuals were strapped down by their wrists, elbows, shoulders, neck, waist, knees and ankles, but were also ignored by the scientists as Wesker and Ross were more concerned with the readouts from cardiographs that showed their heartbeat.

"Do we have enough bags over there?", Wesker casually pointed towards the wall that was to his left.

"Hold on, I'll have to check", his co-worker paced to that same wall and disappeared around it.

He then came back a few seconds later.

"Yeah, fresh supply waiting from this morning", Ross continued as he approached the table that had the man on it.

"A bit too well-fed to be immigrants or street trash", Wesker thought out loud as he remained standing amid both tables, looking back and forth between both experiments, "And not clean enough to be ex-employees. I'm guessing criminals?".

"Albert, I got more important things on my mind", his associate replied, "What are we testing for here?".

"I have people who know me! You don't know who you're fucking with here!", the man who was strapped to the table tried to unsuccessfully raise his head as he exclaimed.

"You're sure you don't want to gag them or just put them under?", Ross asked his colleague without looking down at the man.

"I can hook you up with drugs, money, whatever you're after! I'll talk, I'll name names! Just… Just don't kill me!", the male experiment continued with a louder tone of voice when he knew that he wasn't being listened to.

"Please! I'm pregnant! I have kids at home!", the woman interjected, her face showing much more fear than the man's did.

"Funny, that's not what this says", Wesker grinned down towards her as he lifted a piece of paper, "Ms. Alissa Jones, lives on Ebeirt Street, no husband, no kids, and you haven't spoken to your mother for ages except when it comes to annoying her for money. In fact, Ms. Jones, it may interest you to know that it was your mother who was contacting the Raccoon Probation Department to inform on your whereabouts after you absconded. She was _so_ tired of you. But I digress. Suffice it to say that, a year from now, we don't expect anyone to be concerned that such an absconder hasn't been heard from".

The woman started crying as she was looking up at him, starting first with quiet sobs which eventually continued into louder bawling.

"I didn't do anything wrong!", she uttered between cries.

"What the hell _are_ you people?", the man's facial expression began revealing the fear and worry he was most likely feeling all along, "What are we here for?".

"Well, it's a matter of turning you into a mindless flesh-eating beast, but that's not our preferred outcome", Wesker replied almost as if he was talking to the pair of experiments during a casual get-together, "Our main ambition is to have you acting as a talking, living biological weapon".

It was after hearing his last statement that Jones began screaming incoherently, hoping that she could be heard by anyone outside of whatever area she was restrained in.

"OK, she gets it first", Wesker withdrew a syringe full of a mysterious purple liquid from a metal box whose outline was full of liquid nitrogen to keep its contents liquid.

The scientist took the three steps necessary to reach the table that Jones was lying on and then injected the contents of the needle into her neck.

"I wonder how my sweet little redhead will be acting. I wonder if she's a screamer", Wesker spoke to himself as he was ignoring the woman's pleas.

"Are you still thinking about that?", Ross chastised without looking at his fellow scientist because he was too busy injecting the same type of serum into the neck of the man who was strapped down a few steps away.

"Although, to be honest, that one you've got may be the pregnant prototype that we had been promised a month ago", Ross added as he then turned around to look in Wesker's direction, having to raise his voice because of the screams of hysteria that were emanating from the lips of both experiments, "If so, it'll be very interesting to see how the virus affects the mother and the fetus".

The shrieks soon shifted where the man was yelling out in pain, but the woman's voice was becoming lower. Checking both their heart rates, the scientists found that the man's rate increased while the woman's rate slowed down significantly. The discrepancy was also proven because the man continued screaming as always while Ms. Jones soon quieted down, only moaning uncontrollably instead.

The scene lasted for about an hour as both Umbrella employees monitored the vital signs for the two individuals who were being used as experiments. Several vials of blood were withdrawn from the man and the woman, even when the former's voice eventually sank lower due to him acquiring a sore throat, while the latter continued to moan only.

It was only after the hour was over that the diagnosis was complete and Wesker walked up to the man who was strapped down.

"It seems that we can't use you as you're immune to our virus, so you're free to go", he informed the man while placing his hand on the human guinea pig's right shoulder.

The male experiment looked back at him through his sunglasses, and almost appeared as if he may be about to be crying tears of joy.

"R… Really?", was all he got to say as he was out of breath.

"No, of course not", Wesker answered as he temporarily looked away from the man while withdrawing the holstered Desert Eagle pistol from under his lab coat.

Looking back towards the human experiment, the scientist aimed the weapon down at his target for a fraction of a second before pulling the trigger once.

The man's head exploded before Wesker placed the firearm back in its holster.

"We have the blood samples to examine, if we have enough time to investigate why he was immune", he informed Ross, "Just keep watching her and get someone to place this body here on ice to be used for spare parts".

"No problem", his colleague nodded as he was still checking on Ms. Jones' heart rate.

"I just have enough time to get a drink at my office before my day job starts", Wesker sighed, "I hope this gives us something useful".

He thought to himself that his expectations of a chilled bottle of Johnny Walkers waiting in his private quarters better be met after the drink was allegedly brought up from the bar at the guardhouse.


	11. Chapter 11 Simple social function

The sun outside was embracing the horizon as it became enveloped into the darkening sky. Despite the lack of daylight, though, there was a surreal cascade of artificial light which created the illusion that it was still midday. It allowed Shakahnna the chance to count the sheer number of people who were suddenly swarming by the droves into the Warrens' palace. Even though she was currently in her bedroom, she could see from that window that approximately one hundred people, all of them dressed in clothes that were much too fancy for the teenager's taste, were both inside the large home as well as outside. In addition to that, at least a dozen employees parked the numerous cars after the guests arrived.

She still did not know how many more guests were due to arrive in the next hour or two, as she had been told that the party didn't officially start till 8 PM. And to make this situation truly bad for her, the teenager knew that she would have to smile and be friendly towards every one of them until the party was over long after midnight.

"Oh, god…", the girl sighed to herself as she thought that last fact. 

Just to add a big fat jewel to the crown that was Shakahnna's mood, Joanne marched in via the open door with all the charm of an S.S. Storm-trooper. Despite the recent ceasefire between the two parties, the odd round of outbursts was not unheard of.

"OK, I'm doing you a favor here. I'm going to help you get dressed so you don't show me up", the taller girl mentioned.

"How does that be a favor for _me_?", Shakahnna countered, actually waiting for her adoptive sister to answer.

Either Joanne didn't hear her question, or she wasn't in the mood to hear such queries. Whichever the reason, the blonde continued with her current mindset.

"Anyway, so what were you gonna do with your hair?", the older Warren girl asked.

Before the redhead even had a chance to come up with an answer, Joanne continued talking.

"Well, forget that, because I've decided I'm leaving it down for tonight, but I'll have to tease it out a bit first", the Warren's original daughter added before stopping.

Whether she had finished talking because she wanted to hear what Shakahnna had in mind or because she had to breathe, the redhead couldn't say for sure.

"And as for make-up, I presume you don't have any, so you'll just have to use mine", the older girl went on, making Shakahnna realize that her reason for stopping was the latter, "Although I don't know if I have any colors that will go with your complexion. Although if you cleansed, toned or moisturized, just once or twice a day, used a little concealer here and there, and some mascara and lipstick wouldn't hurt either, you wouldn't actually be that bad. Then we could find you some nice, proper man instead of that boy from the RPD who's always at the house".

"Huh?", was as far as Shakahnna got.

"Come on", Joanne grabbed her left wrist and pulled her deeper towards the mansion, "I got a dress plus all my stuff's in my room and we need to get you sitting down and, oh god, we start in _an hour_, I got only an hour to get both of us ready".

The redhead quickly pulled her left wrist in an upward arc motion so the older teenager was forced to let go.

"OK, I do _not_ be wearing a dress, Chino's fine, I sure as hell am not putting any of that gunk on my face. Jeans be fine and so is my ponytail", Shakahnna finally got to speak up, "Now you run along and make yourself pretty. We both know who's the muscle and who's the looker in the family".

The expression on Joanne's face indicated that her adoptive younger sister might've gotten her way, except that a light rap was heard on the edge of the door itself.

Both teenagers turned their face in that direction to find Mr. Warren dressed in a tuxedo as he standing there a moment before he walked into the bedroom.

"Hey girls, I hope you enjoy yourself tonight. I know this is the first time that Shak will be experiencing one of these parties, so it's a big event for her tonight, Joanne", Michael smiled, still unsure as to how he should act towards the redhead.

"Oh daddy, it's _so_ totally great! We were just gonna go over to my room and then I'm gonna help Shak because she has absolutely no sense of fashion, style or flare", the taller daughter replied first, "And I have this rustic plum lipstick, and when I got it at the cosmetic store, where they _swore_ it was my color, but I totally KNEW it wasn't because I always KNOW my color. But anyway, it came free with my new purse. But it will _totally_ go with your hair, Shak".

"I've died and gone to hell", the redhead thought out loud as she gripped the hair at the top of her own head with both hands, "I be'd committed a cardinal sin and am going to be stucked with this for all of eternity".

"I should hope not", Michael chuckled, "I'm pretty sure that hell at least makes everyone sleep on bunkbeds _and_ puts two people to a room".

"Dad, enough, you're scaring me", Shakahnna answered, pleasing the mayor with the way she addressed him, "I don't require to be having that image, thank you".

"Your mother and I thought that, you know, with this being a special occasion, we should mark it as such", Mr. Warren went on with a smile.

"Are we going to France again?", a wide smile appeared on Joanne's face as she excitedly asked.

"Yes, Joanne, honey, in October, but you already knew that", her father tried to sound as stern as he could due to the circumstances, "But anyway, we got you both something".

Michael reached into his black jacket and withdrew two small, rectangular-shaped boxes, one was green while the other was purple.

"Shak, honey, we all noticed your affiliation with the color green, so it was only appropriate that you get this", he handed the green box to the redhead before turning to Joanne with the second small package, "And of course, purple for the princess".

"Oooh, what is this?", his older daughter kept the wide smile on her face as she took a hold of the box and quickly began unwrapping it first.

She gasped as she saw a solid gold locket that was in the middle of the package, and kept her mouth open in amazement as she carefully lifted it out of the box to admire it close-up.

"Shak, open yours, open yours", Joanne urged as she kept the piece of jewelry and its container in the left hand while she patted her sister on the arm with her right one.

"I was hoping you'd wear that", Michael added, making the redhead notice that two pairs of eyes were resting on her, so the option of opening it later in private wasn't available.

So she gave the best smile she could come up with while looking down at the green box.

It didn't take long to open it, as expected, and the teenager then found herself being surprised at seeing a black choker with an emerald in the middle. 

"Oh dear", she looked back up to the mayor, her forced smile having been replaced with genuine astonishment, "You didn't have to be doing this, you know. You could've just popped in and said 'hi'. I didn't like not being having breakfast for the last week as much as you".

"Well, this is something we wanted to do anyway", Michael was very glad that the problem with his adopted daughter from a week ago was on its way to be resolved, "I know you're a bit of a tomboy, but Joanne and I got something special for you to wear. Maybe you could just try it on?".

The teenager's initial knee-jerk reaction was to point out that she merely wanted to remain in the same clothes that she had on now. But the fact that she and her current father were just starting to talk normally again prompted her to try to do things his way, if for nothing else then to continue with the friendly conversation.

"OK", she lifted her left hand in front of her face with pointing the index finger towards the ceiling, "Just this once, I guess… I can take a bullet for the team".

"Great!", Michael smiled again as he began walking backwards towards the open doorway, "Your mother will be pleased. Then I'll leave you two here and we'll see you both downstairs?".

"See you in an hour, daddy", Joanne waved in a bubbly fashion before she closed the door.

The older girl was excited at the prospect of experimenting her fashion sense on someone who would otherwise be hopeless, even as Shakahnna asked herself why an hour was necessary for anything.

------------------------------------

It was only a few minutes after the mayor left that Shakahnna had felt sorry she ever agreed to this test, as her eyes itched due to the massive amount of make-up that was covering her face. But half an hour passed before the redhead was finally able to open the door to her bedroom and finally walked out of it, even as Joanne was calling after her because she hadn't completed every instruction given. The teenager had to ignore whatever her older sister was saying, simply because it was the only way to guarantee that she wouldn't make the blonde pay for everything she had been through in the last thirty minutes. 

"Eyelash curlers", she muttered to herself as she headed towards the stairs that led to the first floor lobby, "What the hell be's the point of that? Who's gonna notice whether my eyelashes be curled or not? And what be's the point of putting on that stoopid foundation stuff to hide the redness of cheeks when she's then gonna fucking add blush?!".

"Would I tell you how to gouge someone's eyes out? No!", Joanne rushed to follow her outside of room, "Because I don't know and don't _wanna_ know how to do that. But you should listen to me before you rush off unprepared because I know about this stuff, Shak!".

The redhead turned her face towards the blonde and stuck her tongue out as she neared the beginning of the stairs. She was finding it awkward to walk in the green dress that was held up at her shoulders with spaghetti straps, so she had bastardized her style as it was.

"I feel like the grotesque mockery of a barbie doll", she finally stated as she took a gentle hold of the banister to go downstairs.

"Well, you're not as pretty as me, but then again, who is?", Joanne stopped at the edge of the staircase instead of following her downstairs.

"I never contested that fact", Shakahnna replied as she began stepping down, "As I keep be saying, you're the looker of the family".

She saw the blonde giving one of those patented smiles that she always managed to come up with whenever she heard something she really liked.

"Now remember, lean on your back foot, and try to hold your chest up and your shoulders back, and remember to _smile_", the older girl kept advising from the top of the stairs, "You're going down to an audience".

"Maybe I'll get lucky and falled and breaked my neck", the redhead uttered to herself, "That should be a good show for the audience".

Shakahnna took about a two dozen steps before she started seeing the scores of people who were gathering in the lobby. She recognized her parents talking to police chief Irons, as she remembered his face from television. The fourth person she identified was captain Wesker, who was still wearing sunglasses, oddly enough. She smiled to herself because she knew she'd have to borrow those shades at some point, even as the older man looked up in her direction as she was the only person who was coming downstairs.

She could tell that approximately half of the people in the lobby had their attention turned towards her. Most of them were just curious as she was the new daughter in the Warrens' home and the only other time they had seen her face was in the newspaper. Still, though, there were a few, isolated stares from individuals that made her downright uncomfortable. She could not be sure whether this was due to the intentions behind the stares or she was just reading too much into the situation. 

The scenario soon changed, however, when she was halfway down the staircase and she could sense that Joanne must've started coming downstairs also because the atmosphere changed completely. The reaction to the blonde bombshell was much more intense as it appeared that the attention of every person on the first floor turned to look up at the Warrens' older child. The redhead saw that Joanne caused three different kinds of effect on her audience, as she had described it. The first was casual interest by both men and women as they glanced upwards to see who the second person was before resuming their conversation or their attack on the buffet table. The second was the expression on some men which would suggest that they'd like to be left alone with her and everyone else in the house to disappear after they took the blonde's dress with them. Finally, the third effect was a disgusted sneer on the face of some women who, even though Shakahnna couldn't hear what they were saying, seemed to be wishing the blonde wasn't here at all or suddenly attacked by a plague of acne.

It was then that another thought entered Shakahnna's mind, that being the look that captain Wesker was still giving her while he seemed to be the only person in the lobby who continued staring at her after Joanne made her presence known. The redhead realized that she had asked the older man to vouch for her to the chief of police, though considering how Irons was gazing at her older sister, she mused that she should ask Joanne to talk to the chief on her behalf instead. But regardless, here she was stuck in a dress which made her feel cheap, and if Irons looked at her, all he was going to see was someone who appeared to be a delicate girl instead of the kind if image she wanted to give off in her effort to be hired by the RPD. This was especially true when considering that nothing could be further from the truth when it came to how she appeared just now.

The redhead had enough. She turned around and began heading back upstairs towards her bedroom, and more specifically, towards the pile of shoes, black jeans and T-shirt that she had on earlier. She decided not to wear the ripped jeans for tact's sake, but no way was she continuing to wear this for the next several hours.

"Where're you going?!", Joanne asked with her eyes wide open as the shorter girl passed her on the staircase.

"I'm don't be a doll or a fairy tale princess living in a fucking castle, Joanne. Screw this", she whispered loudly as she kept traveling upstairs.

"What about the party?", the blonde stopped on the steps and turned to keep looking up at her back.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, but I do NOT be wearing this", Shakahnna replied as she reached the top of the stairs, "Some bloody use I'd be if the monsters came. I'd be too busy worrying about popping out of my top. Look at this! If it be'd any lower, you'd see my nipples!".

The redhead stomped off into her bedroom before closing the door behind her and leaving the older girl alone. Joanne sighed first in disappointment at her sister's behavior after all the effort that had been spent so far to make her have a nice night, and then shrugged and continued going downstairs alone as she lavished in the attention that was spent on her.

Once alone in the temporary silence of her room, Shakahnna knew that she would only be able to stay there for a short time before having to return to the noise pollution that was the mansion lobby. So she took her time changing from the green dress to the usual black jeans and white sneakers, but also added a black blouse instead of a regular T-shirt in an effort to somewhat appease the conservative majority in the household. She also kept the choker on, just for tonight, at least. But she still wished to avoid the same entrance that her taller sister seemed to crave, so the teenager decided to make use of her bedroom window by carefully climbing out of it and taking a hold of the nearest tree that was a short distance away. 

Climbing down, she was a bit surprised, though glad, that no one noticed her. That's because the few employees who were outside were busy putting the finishing touches on the many tables in the backyard that carried different styles of food and drink, as well as installing a handful of movable lampposts. So upon planting her feet onto the grass, the redhead made her way around the mansion till she got to the front door, and then finally made her way to the lobby like the dozens of people who were still coming inside for the first time. It just so happened that her sense of fashion made her stick out among the crowd, but it was better to stand out than to be painfully uncomfortable all night long.

----------------------------------

The teenager found that she wasn't drawing any of the attention that she did a short time ago when she was on the staircase, and that suited her just fine. So she headed towards the main hall and helped herself to a few servings of crackers with pate, some fried shrimp, a couple of ham and turkey sandwiches, and then concluded the current raid on the food tables by dipping an empty glass into the punch bowl. She also decided to try to find captain Wesker in the large crowd, so she made her way past strangers as she was chewing the last bite of a sandwich and simultaneously drinking the glass of pink liquid. 

But instead of finding the mysterious officer with the sunglasses, she ran into her sister talking to chief Irons. She walked up to the pair in time to hear what the blonde was mentioning to the head of the RPD.

"Uncle Brian, look what daddy got me", Joanne was pointing at the locket that rested on her upper chest. 

The chief of police was staring down at the blonde girl's torso and having a good look, though Shakahnna was sure he wasn't admiring the locket.

"Please, don't let him touch it", the redhead thought to herself as she came closer to the duo.

It was then that Joanne noticed that the shorter girl was there, so she partly turned in her direction as she began introducing one person to the other. But she soon stopped with the formalities when she saw that the redhead's clothes were different.

"Where's your dress?", the older sibling asked out loud, temporarily forgetting about her conversation with Irons.

"It be's in the same place as my waist size in single digits and you working in Burger Kong.", Shakahnna scoffed sarcastically, "In the drawer marked it doesn't be going to happen".

"You're not funny", Joanne shot back.

"Ladies, ladies…", Irons spoke up with the hint of a smile on his chubby face that he was unsuccessfully trying to suppress. 

The teenager already knew that she probably wouldn't like this man, but she also had to acknowledge that this was the favor that the Warrens called in to get Chino re-instated, plus she needed his approval before starting work at the RPD. She had already made peace with the idea that she would have to suck up, but just being here with Joanne meant she had a better chance of getting what she wanted because the head of police was so happily involved with her older sister.

"Uncle Brian, this is my _uncouth_ sibling", Joanne spoke up before the redhead had figured out what to say.

"Ah, it's Shakahnna, right?", Irons offered his right hand.

"Hello, Mr. Irons", Shakahnna politely shook it.

"No, no, no need for such formalities when it's between family", the chief chuckled, "Call me 'uncle Brian'".

The teenager got a puzzled look on her face, even if it only lasted for a moment. If this guy was related to Joanne, it would take things to a whole new level of gross.

"Oh, are you related to Mr. or Mrs. Warren?", she asked as she let go of his hand.

"No, silly", her older sister interjected.

"Not biologically, no", Irons shook his head, "But I've known Michael ever since he first arrived here in Raccoon. In fact, I was the one who introduced him to his wife".

Shakahnna repressed the urge to sarcastically point out that she bet Michael was still thanking him for that.

"I _do_ remember what I heard happened to you, Shakahnna", the chief continued, "I was horrified at what those officers had done while you were at the precinct. I assure you that every one of them was punished by loss of rank and a cut in salary after they were suspended and then transferred to another district".

"Have you been fighting again?", Joanne asked her sister as she turned and looked down at her.

"No, this was forever ago", the redhead explained as she kept her attention on Irons, "And thank you for looking out for me that way, uncle Brian".

She had to force herself to say the last two words, as if referring to Michael and Elena as 'dad' and 'mom' wasn't bad enough.

"Ooh, there's the Meegas!", Joanne pointed behind Irons, almost as if she was making an announcement that both he and her younger sister were interested in, "And yeah, _Sean's_ with them!".

Her smile widened when she made the second half of that statement, prompting Shakahnna to sigh and roll her eyes when she saw the older girl dart in the general direction that she had previously pointed. The blonde didn't even say anything to either her or Irons before she left to get Sean's attention, leaving the redhead all alone with the older man and making Shakahnna promise to herself that she would leave black dye in the older girl's shampoo soon as payback.

"Your parents were just telling me about your test scores after you took the GED and SAT's", Irons didn't seem to mind too much as he easily shifted his whole attention on her, "So what are you planning to do with yourself?".

She wasn't sure if he was truly interested in her ideas for the future or was just making small-talk because he was bored, but she realized that Joanne had handed her a present on a silver platter without knowing it.

"Well, actually, now that you be mentioning it, I wanted to acquire a job in the RPD", she informed him.

"Aren't you a bit young to a be a police officer, dear?", Irons asked.

"I be open to that possibility but that's why I was just going to do some secretarial work, get some experience in and about the building and then hopefully apply for a police position when I be older. Maybe in a couple of years", Shakahnna continued.

"I don't think there'll be any problem with that", the chief went on, "Why don't you come and see me at my office on Monday and we'll see what we can work out. You remember where my precinct is located?".

"Uhuh ", she chuckled, recalling the many times she had been there in the last month to visit Chino.

"Just ask anyone there where my office is and they'll point it out to you", the older man told her, "And we'll get you situated there and you may be able to start working that same day. We could definitely use the help".

"Same day? Do you guys usually hire on the spot?", the teenager was curious.

"Of course not", Irons shook his head, "If we were going to go through the usual channels, it would take you about two weeks to be interviewed and hired. We could do that too, if you want be treated just like everyone else".

"Fuck no!", Shakahnna answered with a grin, provoking a deep laugh from the back of older man's throat. 

They both heard soft dance music being played throughout the main hall a few seconds before people around them began pairing up in couples and started dancing. 

"Excuse me", the chief of police politely bowed his head, "Someone had promised me the first dance and I don't want to keep her waiting".

Irons left at that point, giving the teenager that sinking feeling that he was on his way to find Joanne.

"Oh well, what be's the harm?", she thought out loud, "At least he didn't ask me".

She chuckled as she made her way to the outskirts of the room to avoid anyone asking her to dance out of pity due to her being here alone.

----------------------------------

It took her about a full minute to get bored, so the teenager started wondering about the options she could take. For starters, the idea of asking anyone who wasn't dancing to pair up with her before copying the horrendous movements she was seeing on the dance floor was not in the least bit appealing. She could've returned to the buffet tables, or gone out for a walk near the horse stable, but Shakahnna knew that what she really wanted to do was leave here and visit Chino at work. She didn't even know if he was in the office all day today or out on patrol, but even if it was the latter, she could've taken an hour to walk to his precinct and then perhaps waited under his desk and bit his leg when he returned to sit down. Obviously she wouldn't realistically do that, no matter how much she wanted to, but the idea was enough to keep her amused for now.

Shakahnna was about to leave via the nearest exit, telling herself that she did what her parents wanted by showing up, but now she was through with this place. But as she was about to head towards that doorway, she was brought face to face with Albert Wesker as he looked down at her from behind his shades. 

"Would you care to dance, miss?", the captain asked with a friendly smile, "I'm being told that I should mingle with the rest of these people. And you seem to be the only one here who looks as uncomfortable as I feel".

"I'd sooner go streaking, and before that, I'd sooner rip my arm off and beat myself over the head with it till I be'd unconscious", she had to admit, "I don't dance. At least not in public".

That got a laugh from the officer.

"I bet that's the first time you got to honestly speak your mind at this party so far", he commented.

"Yeah, had to be all nice and stuff cause want to acquire a job with you guys at the RPD, captain", she let him know.

"Captain? That's way too formal".

"Oh, OK", the teenager followed through, "What would you be having me call you?".

"My colleagues at work have a bad habit of calling me Wes, so feel free to follow their example", he informed her with another smile, "So you'll be joining our ranks soon?".

"Only as a secretary for now", Shakahnna told him, "But give me time".

"I know you'd probably be good regardless of what position you take", the captain went on, "Your parents were telling me about how high a score you got on the tests you took a while ago".

"They should just be taking out an ad in the fucking paper already", the teenager said with a hint of irritation in her voice, "That's the second time someone told me that so far tonight".

"Oh, I'm sure they're just proud of you, is all".

"At the end of the day, it'll help me get what I want, so shouldn't complain too much about it", she admitted, "But I'm gonna get my ass kicked anyway when dad sees that I changed outfits".

"He better not", Wesker replied, "I've never seen anyone as uncomfortable as you were back when you had that dress on. No one has the right to be critical of someone who just wishes to be relaxed".

"I swear, if Chino had seen me in that, I'd never hear the end of it", Shakahnna laughed at the mental picture Chino and Donnelly making constant jokes about her in the dress to the point where she was sick of it.

"The rookie who was suspended a while back?", the captain asked as he curiously crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Her face tightened as she was pressing her teeth into her tongue to keep from swearing out loud due to the resentment she still felt due to having the young man experience that unpleasantness because of her, even if it was only for a day.

"Are you feeling alright?", he noticed the change in her facial expression.

"Yeah, just membering something I shouldn't be wasting my time with, I suppose", she wished she could stop feeling so angry about that particular incident even after that time had passed.

"A lot of guys were asking me if I knew about that situation, but I didn't, oddly enough", Wesker added as he casually placed his hands into his jacket pockets, "And here I thought that being a captain allowed one to know everything that went on, but not so. It was just strange that the whole thing flared up and then died down all within a 48-hour period. But I'm afraid that's the only knowledge or interaction I've had with that young man".

"I take it you never went riding with him?", Shakahnna asked.

"No, my own patrolling history is with others", the older man sighed, as if having a bad recollection of his own, "If you end up working in our precinct, you'll be amazed at how easily you can work literally yards away from someone and almost never see them during the course of a regular month".

"Aaah, that would suck!", she exclaimed, "I wanna go bother Chino!".

"I'm sure you'll have the chance, especially if you and him are working during the same shift", Wesker explained as the smile returned on his face, "I meant that it's easy to never see someone during the course of a normal work day. If you're going out of your way to find him, then you'll be able to find him to make his day more interesting, I'm sure".

"Do you like being a cop, Wes?" Shakahnna asked. 

Although it was a perfectly innocent question, he wasn't sure how to answer it because no one had ever asked that of him before. The captain tried to come up with the one best sentence that could summarize an entire matrix of feelings he had towards this profession.

"Short answer – yes, I do; it's interesting if you control yourself, but can swallow you if you don't", he sighed, "I wish I could give you a clearer answer if you're looking for one before you decide to join. There's things in this line of work that you won't see anywhere else in life".

"And you get a gun", Shakahnna beamed a smile at him.

Wesker found himself smiling an awful lot tonight.

"You know, Shak. You mind if I call you Shak?", the captain started.

"Should I?", she shrugged her shoulders in a bemused fashion.

"No, just wanted to be sure", he continued, "I don't know about officer Chisholm, or how he got this nickname that everyone other than me refers him as, but if he has a problem bringing you along when he's out at the firing range, then I don't".

"Really??", her eyes lit up because this was the first offer of its kind that she was coming across, "But Chino says I'm dangerous enough".

"As long as you're not breaking the law, there's no such thing", Wesker replied, "You'll find that I'm much more liberal than… pretty much anyone else, police or no, when it comes to my views and actions".

"Do you be realizing that you're trusting me with a weapon, Wes?", the teenager continued.

"Sure", he went on, "In fact, if you're as bored as I am, we could probably go to the range tonight for a while. I drove here alone, we could go to the Kendo Gun Shop, the one that's by the old art museum. It has a firing range in the back and it's won't be far from the new RPD in less than a month. Plus I'm familiar with Robert, the owner, because I've been there many a times, so he has no problem letting me in to practice with this".

He lightly slapped the upper left side of his jacket as he finished making his last remark, making the teenager think that he was armed even now.

"Why? What happens in a month? And what b

e's in there?", Shakahnna's curiously pointed towards his heart, indicating the area under the jacket.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you knew. The RPD is in process to being moved into the empty art museum. That's where our home will be starting in about two weeks. As far as this here, it's a Desert Eagle", the captain was enjoying the conversation as much as her, "My own personal favorite firearm. The RPD insists on making its personnel carry around the pea-shooting Glocks instead, but that's one of the positive sides of being a captain, when you can decide for yourself and leave the Glock playing second string".

Shakahnna's jaw dropped open when she heard the description of the weapon which was literally within her arm's reach, though granted it was in his possession and under one layer of his clothing. She was somewhat familiar with the schematics of that firearm, but hadn't come across the opportunity to play with it before.

"Tell me this – which type of bullets do you use? Flathead or roundtip?", she wasn't feeling bad about being pressured into coming to this party all of a sudden.

"The roundtip for work and for target practice", he informed her, "So that's the kind of ammo that I'm always buying from Kendo's. Hell, the guy even has a box of fifty rounds waiting for me when I go there to pick it up every Friday evening. But I have another stash of flatheads that are in a safe place that are untouched and will remain so, unless something totally cataclysmic happens. And in case you're thinking of asking, no, you can't use flatheads". 

Shakahnna widened her eyes, put her head down and stuck out her lower lip as she maintained eye contact with the taller man.

"Don't even try that", he chastised with a smile.

She continued giving him the look.

"Flatheads are only for extreme emergencies. We're talking end of the world, repent for your sins kind of an emergency", he countered.

"You sound like you know something that I don't", she finally regained her usual facial expression.

For a horrible instant, Wesker thought that this girl could see right through him, that she knew all about Umbrella and the monsters that his true employer built during its research. Maybe she even knew that the reason he obsessively stored away the deadliest ammunition for his favorite weapon was because part of him was always worried about those monsters breaking out of the underground lab to prey on the community.

But that one moment soon appeared to be just a figment of his high-strung imagination when the teenager's lips curled up at the corners.

"What if _I_ buy some flatheads to practice with?", Shakahnna asked, putting him more at ease.

"You could if they were available, which they're not", Wesker exhaled very slowly, "Not legally in Raccoon, anyway. But I just happen to know of a source that fun-loving kids like you should never ask about".

"Technically I could bribe you", the grinning redhead wasn't letting up.

"That wouldn't be very nice, would it?", he smiled back.

"No, I supposed not", she relented with a mock pout before her usual face was brought back, "But I still get to play with the regular bullets, right?".

"Sure, when do you wish to go?", the captain inquired.

"Does now be an option?", the teenager held her breath.

"Definitely, let's head", he pointed towards the direction of the nearest exit.

------------------------------------

"We were _soooo_ close", Shakahnna wailed as she and Wesker were confronted a few steps away from the side door by her adoptive mother.

"Shakahnna Warren, were you leaving this house with someone you just met?", Elena demanded.

"I believe you already be knowing the answer to that", the redhead was forced to answer, "And in theory, you be right. But it's someone who you be knowing for many years, so I didn't think you'd mind".

"I was just going to give her a tour of this city for an hour or so, Mrs. Warren", Wesker added, "I figured the girl could use the chance to see our city at its best. And I'll have her back before anyone here even starts to leave, I promise".

The teenager saw her mother quietly studying the police captain, as if she was trying to figure out if the man in the sunglasses had an ulterior motive. Elena didn't take long while doing so, only a few seconds, but it was long enough for the redhead to notice it.

"Mom, he's a cop, what could happen?", Shakahnna continued.

That last statement seemed to have done the trick, fortunately for her, as the mayor's wife relented.

"You have her back here by 11 o'clock _the same way_ she left", she pointed an accusing right index finger at the officer's chest

"Of course, Mrs. Warren. You know nothing will happen when she's with me".

"Yes, I'm sure", Elena replied without sounding sincere even as she was looking at her daughter, "But before you go, honey, there's another couple here I wanted to introduce you to. They've been friends with your father and me for years and wanted to meet you also while they were here".

"Yeah, sure", the teenager answered, still wondering how much time from her allotted schedule by 11 PM would have to be spent talking to the new people who were eager to meet her.

She was wondering if she was the family's prized ham or something similar when her adoptive mother gestured behind her.

"This is William and Annette Birkin", Elena went on, "They both received many awards for their research in the field of vaccination". 

Shakahnna offered her right hand to the man first, noticing how unkempt his hair was as well as how disheveled the tie looked around his neck. The scientist didn't appear to adhere to the social rules of people who considered themselves to be high society, not that she was in a position to point fingers. After shaking his hand, she did the same with his wife, who appeared more stable as her hair was actually combed.

"I'm surprised your mother is allowing a girl to go out unescorted in this city", William spoke first with what might've been a fake smile, "But it's a good thing you have Mr. Wesker there to protect you".

"Are you _kidding_ me?", she countered, "Were you stuck in your dingy lab for so long that you missed out on the women's movement? Now we're actually allowed to go places alone".

"Oh, honey, my husband didn't mean anything bad by what he said", Annette interjected, "William's just concerned because a lot can happen at night".

"No biggie", she brushed the subject off.

"So Elena, where's you other lovely daughter?", William turned to ask Elena.

"Oh, she might be with Mr. Irons in the library", the mayor's wife answered, "You should see her, too. She's grown so much since the last time you were here".

"Nice to meet you", Annette whispered towards the redhead and nodded politely towards Wesker as she and her husband were led away by Mrs. Warren.

"Let's be getting outta here", Shakahnna stated to the police captain once they were out of earshot.

"I'm with you", he pointed towards the exit with his left arm.

"How did that weird Birkin guy know your name?", the teenager asked as they were leaving the mansion and heading towards his parked car.

"He came in a while back to report some stolen equipment from his lab. Must've remembered me from then", the officer lied.

"Remind me to slash that little nerd's tires the next time I be running into him", the redhead went on.

"No need. You'll be working out that aggression soon, so much so that you'll be as calm as Buddha himself by the time we leave Kendo's", the cop promised.

----------------------------------------

Back inside the mayor's home, William had his right arm around his wife's waist as they were walking towards the library and talking to Elena, who was at his left side.

"You have the sample?", he asked the mayor's wife in an informal tone.

"Skin, hair and even blood, as promised", Elena handed him three small plastic vials, which he made sure to place in his pocket.

"What did you think?", the mayor's wife asked them both.

"I tend to agree with what you said, especially after her reaction", William replied.

"But these samples _should_ tell us for sure", Annette added, "Besides, no one makes a better tyrant than my William, so it'd be insulting to think that anyone else could've come up with such a specimen".

++++++++++++++++++++

"The first thing we wanna do if you've never fired a gun before is set the target close, so voila", Wesker pointed at the round piece of thick cardboard that had several smaller circles drawn inside of it, the last one being a dot that was an inch in diameter.

"As long as you don't be having any high expectations of me hitting it, then we'll be doin' just fine", the teenager snickered as she placed the borrowed earpieces over her head, thus blocking out the majority of the sound, "How far is that?".

"ABOUT EIGHT YARDS", the officer raised his voice to be heard over the sound protection she was wearing, "But first…".

He withdrew the Desert Eagle handgun and held it with a right grip before using his left hand to stabilize the right one from underneath it. He then pointed it at the circular target, motioning for Shakahnna to stand a short distance away and see the kind of recoil she would experience once she fired the weapon herself.

The captain pulled the trigger once before a bullet found its mark right in the center of the piece of cardboard. He then looked over at the teenager as he gently handed the firearm towards her with his right hand only.

"ALWAYS POINT IT AT THE FLOOR", he informed as he did the same.

Taking it with her right hand, Shakahnna couldn't help but vibrate as the cool metal surface felt extremely comfortable in that grip. It wasn't as heavy as she expected it to be, plus it was one even weight, instead of being top-heavy. So with the grin always on her face, she took aim at the bull's-eye while using both hands, just as he had.

The teenager pulled the trigger once, the weapon slightly jerking upwards in her hands, though not anywhere near as much to justify the tight way she was clenching it. She changed angle of her view from the Desert Eagle which was close to her eyes to the target, which was further away, and saw that the second bullet had struck the piece of cardboard on the last outer circle.

She looked over to Wesker while lowering the weapon and saw that he was indicating for her to remove the ear piece, which she did with her left hand.

"Make it work", she handed the firearm over to the older man, always making sure to keep it pointed down.

"_You_ make it work. You could, you know", the officer replied, "Just takes some practice, and patience".

"I suppose it does be the first time", the teenager said, "Think I have a few more days at the range before I'm in your league".

"A couple of things – first, the way you held the piece was good, but always keep your eye on the target when you pull the trigger instead of on the barrel of the gun itself", the officer advised as he took a hold of the handle, "Second, while you do that, make sure you also concentrate on not moving the piece at all, even a fraction of an inch, while you fire, because even a slight change from the barrel can miss a target that's far by a matter of inches or even feet. If you can do both, then you'll hit your target just fine. Let's do this…".

With that, the older man stood behind her and handed the weapon back as they were both replacing their sound suppressors.

"What're you doing?", Shakahnna questioned.

"Showing you a trick", he stated as she took the weapon back, "Aim the gun".

She did so, feeling him being a bit too close for comfort as he stood directly behind her.

The officer placed his hands on top of hers, thus keeping the weapon in between both sets. He then aimed by himself and made sure to keep her hands steady before he verbally told her to fire.

Shakahnna pulled the trigger a second time, and gasped as this bullet struck the side of the inch-wide diameter at the center of the target. She turned around and beamed at him, lighting her entire face up.

"So how much is one of these things on sale for here?", she grinned as she asked, already deducing how many weeks of allowances she'd have to save up, depending on the answer he gave.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"Did you have fun?", she asked when she was strapped to the passenger seat via the seatbelt.

The car was being driven by the police captain and making its way down the lighted streets of the city long after the sun had set, turning the sky into a pitch black blanket.

"I did indeed, miss Warren", he replied even as he kept his shaded eyes on the road ahead of him while his hands were controlling the steering wheel, "You?".

"Hell yeah!", she exclaimed even as she kept flexing her right hand in an effort to counter the soreness in her fingers, "I can't member the last time I be'd this eager".

"I'm glad, miss Warren", the officer answered in the same monotone.

She wasn't sure if he saw her sticking her tongue out at the way he addressed her name, as his face didn't move away from watching the street.

"Does that mean I can play with your gun again?", she asked, finally prompting a smile on his face.

"Sure, I'll give you my number at work. Call me if you have free time, we'll do this again soon", the captain answered.

"I'm not through with bugging you about what kind of gun I can buy, just so you know", she kept smiling as she turned to look at the windshield ahead of her just as he was doing.

"I didn't expect that you would, no", the chuckle was apparent in his voice this time.

"I'm sure that you'll see me around work anyway, because I'm hopefully starting work on Monday", the redhead added as she looked back at him, "I just hope that passing those GDE and STA tests thingies is enough to be able to buy one of those. I can't seem to be able to prove my age at all".

"As a high school grad who's an employee for the RPD? I'm sure you'll be able to get one bought from either Bob or Joe at Kendo's, miss Warren", he advised, "Just make sure to remember to ask for the same person who was there tonight. He knows we're practicing together. But I'd also suggest practicing some more before you decide what kind of firearm you wish to buy. And as far as seeing me, I'm sure we'll run into each other by chance. I'm sometimes coming in before my shift and leaving hours after it's over, so whichever shift we're in, we'll probably bump into each other sooner or later".

"Oh, I will keep practicing, don't worry", she promised with another grin, "And is that OK, if I bother you sometimes at work?".

"Miss Warren, it's no bother", he promised.

"OK, that's good. But what's with the 'miss Warren' thing? You make sound like I'm sophisticated or something", the teenager replied, "I'm not. I like to roll in mud".

"Why you'd do that is beyond my comprehension", he smiled again, "But Shakahnna is fine with me also".

"Could I ask you a question about later on tonight?", she chose her words carefully.

"Of course", his face always remained staring ahead, which was making her curious.

Either this guy didn't like to look at her or he was obsessed about being careful when behind the wheel, she decided.

"Where are you heading once you drop me off at home? Where do you be going?", she asked.

"Only home to get some sleep before I start work tomorrow. I'm working this weekend", he stated.

"Would it be too much to ask if you waited for me after dropping me off at the Warrens' and then gave me a ride to the RPD?", she requested.

"Say that again?", he finally looked in her direction for an instant before returning the gaze ahead.

"Well, you see", she began explaining, "Elena's mental".

"Uhuh", he nodded his head in agreement.

"And I don't actually stay in the Warrens' mansion most nights. I climbed outted the window and down the tree, where I can vault over the fence, and then get to be staying with Chino", she continued as she was glad of his response, "But he be's working now, so if I can get to your precinct, I can meet him maybe about an hour before he gets off his shift. But it requires that I go in, tell _mother_ that I'm home, then go to my room and get out of the window where my ride who would be ewe, if you don't mind waiting".

"That's an awful intricate plan just to spend time with your friends", he pointed out, "But why can't Chisholm pick you up?".

"Because he lacks in having a car. We usually take the cable car to his place", she replied, "Or we walk. But he's usually so tired that we take public transportation".

"The whole thing would get me home about 90 minutes later than expected", he stated the fact with no emotion in his voice to indicate whether he minded or not, "But I'm more concerned that you may hurt yourself by jumping out of windows when it's dark outside".

"I don't get hurt", she shook her head, "And it _was_ just a question, Wes. If you be's tired and stuff, I understand, really. You already taught me how to fire a gun today, so not like the ball's not totally in your court".

Wesker noticed this request was serious and thus not accompanied by the puppy dog face that Shakahnna had given earlier.

"How long will it take you to get back to me once you've gone into the mansion?", he asked at long last.

"As long as herself doesn't speak too much, can be in and back out in under five minutes. I'm down the tree more often than out the door", the teenager answered with an air of confidence that the older man wasn't sure she should have.

"You're assuming that your mother, or anyone else for that matter, isn't going to check on you after you tell them you're going to your room for the night", he made a good point.

"Well, you'd have a good point if they cared, which they don't", she laughed at the irony of her own statement, "But I've be'd doing this ever since my house arrest ended, and I'm trusting you here, even a few times before then with Chino's help. So what be's your thoughts?".

"I'll wait, but if you're stuck in that house and can't come out, I expect you to make an effort to let me know so I'm not waiting out there all night long when I got work at sunrise", Wesker let her know, "So either send out a maid to tell me that in person when I'm parked outside the house or stand at your window with the lights on and wave me a message in morse code, I don't care".

"Fair enough, then make sure you be facing the front of the mansion. Whatever room gets its lights turned on five minutes after I leave will be mine", she rubbed her hands in anticipation, "And if I _do_ be's stuck, I won't need morse code to tell you from the window. You'll be able to hear the screams".

"You're sure you can scream over the party?", the captain asked as they saw the outlines of the mansion in the distance.

"If not, then I'll do my best imitation of one of those giant muppet things that be's using its arms to tell you to leave me behind in the quicksand. Either way, you'll know, I promise".

"You want me to drive to where the valet parking is or just leave you off at the front gate?", he still didn't take his shades off as he asked.

"If that's OK", she told him, "That will take less time for me to get in and announce my glamorous return before I tell them that I'm so tired that I needed to go to my room".

Both she and the RPD captain waved at the guard tower, her by shaking her left hand repeatedly and him by simply raising his left hand off the open windowsill. 

It was then a quick ride to the front of the mansion before the teenager took her seatbelt off.

"Probably be better if you wait outside the guard tower", she informed him via last-minute instructions, "I'll be climbing past the tree and land just outside the fence".

"Are you absolutely sure about this? No point in risking your neck just for a night out with friends. Maybe I could come in and have a word with…", the officer started.

"Yeah, but if they reject it, they'll be checking up on me later", she replied after she considered the offer, "But this isn't a big deal. I appreciate the sentiment, I really do, but I do this almost every night I prefer to spend the night at Chino's place".

"See you soon, then", he said as she was climbing out of the vehicle.

"Thank you, Weskie", she showed off two rows of teeth as she smiled before closing the front passenger door.

Shakahnna heard the officer turning the car around and driving back towards the front guard tower as she headed inside via the main entrance.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"Wake up, dude", Donnelly remarked as he walked behind Chino's desk just before midnight since he caught sight of the younger man staring ahead and not moving his head at all.

"I'm awake, buzz off", the rookie countered, still without showing any sign of movement among the lightly-staffed floor, "Work's _all_ done and my eyes are gonna bleed if I stare at another report sheet about how person A stole person B's cat while they were at a bar or how the family next door is going to hell because they keep playing music past 10 o'clock. So the next 45 minutes are gonna be spent totally vegetating for my own sanity's sake, OK?".

"Makes sense to me, I suppose, so I'll allow it, just this once", the older man snickered as he headed off towards his own desk that was next to Chino's to probably do the same as his partner.

"_Why_ can't we go home?", the younger man asked, "It's late, I'm tired, there's nothing more to do. Do the math here".

"For the same reason we can't do it every time you've asked that damn question, Steve", the more experienced officer sighed, "It'd make too much sense. So just daydream about that red-headed friend of yours for the next half an hour and then we can sign out. Better to do this and save your vacation for when you wanna sleep in late with your guitar or something".

It was only then that the older man caught sight of something unusual out of the corner of his left eye. It was a glimpse of something that stood out and shouldn't have been there. 

Turning towards his left direction, he saw one half of Shakahnna's face as the teenager was peeking at him and his partner from around the corner of a wall.

"Oh, great", he sighed as he turned around and sat down on the surface of his own desk, "Doesn't this city have that curfew for people who are 'special'"?, he asked, placing the last word in inverted commas by using his own index and middle fingers.

"I don't know what you be complaining about", the girl walked around the wall as she headed towards the younger cop who didn't seem so tired any more, "You getted to have the pleasure of mie company, all as a side effect of being Chino's friend. Some people have all the luck".

"Didn't the Warrens have that party tonight, Shak? How come you were able to bust out?", the younger man stood up from his chair to give her a light embrace.

"Oh, oh, oh", she excitedly tugged at his sleeve after they parted, "I have a surprise for you".

"You mean besides you already being here?", he asked, smiling. 

"What, like fleas?", Donnelly inquired in an annoyed tone of voice.

"You know, Shak, I don't think he likes you very much", a new voice entered the conversation.

All three individuals turned their attention towards the wall that the girl had just walked around and saw Albert Wesker leaning against it as he kept his face hidden behind the dark glasses and his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"You're probably right. But if you stick around long enough, you'll get to see me kick his ass in about five minutes", Shakahnna grinned before turning her face towards Donnelly and sticking her tongue out at him.

The older patrol officer, on the other hand, didn't notice her reaction because his mouth was still wide open as he kept staring at the RPD captain. He finally gathered up the thoughts in his head after a few seconds and professionally nodded his head as he addressed the superior officer with the word 'sir'.

"Anyway, your surprise", the teenager turned back towards the youngest officer as she withdrew a thin piece of circular cardboard from her pocket and quickly unfolded it, "This here be's the thingie that I was shooting at earlier tonight".

She smiled, wondering why Chino didn't look happier.

"Look how close I be'd!", she proudly exclaimed, "If the monsters come, now I can protect you".

Wesker did realize that it was the second time she mentioned the subject of monsters since he met her a few hours earlier.

"You took her shooting?! With a gun?!", the rookie spoke to the captain from across the large room with an accusing tone of voice.

"Dude, this is one of these time when you need to be quiet", Donnelly quickly walked over to the young officer and placed a hand on the rookie's left shoulder as he gave advise, noticing that he didn't like how outspoken the Chino became every time the subject of Shakahnna was involved.

"She's not as bad as you think, you know", Wesker relaxed his arms on either side of his torso as he stood away from the wall and began walking towards the trio.

"Who're you, anyway?", the rookie pointed past Donnelly and towards the captain with his right index finger.

"Name's Albert Wesker", the slightly taller RPD official stood a few steps away from the young man as he used one finger to tilt his sunglasses towards his nose before locking his actual eyes with Chino's, "What's _your_ name?".

His words carried the slightest hint of chill in them, making the rookie feel nervous even though he didn't know why.

"What's going on here?", Shakahnna asked in a confused voice, "Is this a boy thing? Because the last time people talked like that, I ended up with broken ribs. I require not to have those again".

"I thought you said you didn't need to go to the hospital", Donnelly pointed out from next to his partner, hoping to use the change in subject as a sly way to steer both other men away from the verbal deadlock they were heading towards.

"I said 'no hospital', didn't say my ribs weren't brokened", she smiled nervously at the older man even as she wrapped her arms around Chino's elbow.

The teenager didn't like the way the previous conversation was going either, so she decided to take the initiative to correct whatever situation had gone wrong. After letting go of the young man's arm, she glanced back and forth between the rookie and the captain.

"OK, I'm gonna do proper introductions now", she began.

"But I didn't get his name", Wesker grinned as he placed the shades back in front of his eyes.

"You, shut up", the teenager continued as she pointed at him.

Shakahnna first looked back at the youngest officer there.

"Chino, that be's Wesker", she stated before turning to look at the captain.

"Weskie, this be's Chino", she continued, "Now if you two don't play nice, I'm gonna cry".

The teenager followed up her verbal threat with what had become to be known by everyone she spent quality time with as 'the lip'. That was done by extending her lower lip in a sorrowful pout while she widened her eyes and partly lowered her face towards the floor.

Donnelly laughed at the spectacle as he felt glad that she was diffusing the situation as well as she did, even as Wesker's forehead creased in confusion while his eyebrows lowered behind his sunglasses. Chino, on the other hand, appeared the most affected by her facial expression as his tone quickly went from confrontational to worried.

"Where did you two meet exactly?", Donnelly decided to speak up since no one else was, and the silence was very uncomfortable.

"I found him wandering about outside all alone", Shakahnna turned back to look at Chino with a happier face on, "Can we take him home?".

"You people are utterly ludicrous", Wesker stated as he crossed his arms again as he couldn't ever remember being party to such senseless conversation before in his life, "And you found me _where_??".

"Under a bush and you be'd all sad, so I decided to take you under my wing", the redhead turned back towards him, answering in a serious tone as if his question had been a silly one.

"This is all very well and good", the RPD captain replied as he looked down at his wristwatch, "But some of us have work overseeing a dozen sergeants and a hundred patrol officers later on today when the sun comes up. So I should get home to be sure I'm not falling asleep in my office".

"Still had fun?", the girl asked him, hoping his reply was still in the affirmative.

"I'll just see you Monday", Wesker didn't answer her question as he turned to join the few officers who were already leaving the area due to the end of their shift.

"Thankies for waiting to give me the ride", she called out after him as he was walking away.

"My pleasure", the captain responded without turning around before he disappeared out of sight.

-------------------------------------

"Can you believe what a pain it's gonna be when we have to do this, but from the damn art museum? That's got to be an extra twenty minutes of driving time twice a day. Damn… But anyway, what're we having for dinner, or breakfast?", Chino asked as the teenager was escorting him and his partner out of RPD headquarters.

He rubbed his eyes as Donnelly was busy yawning after the long night they both had and were being greeted by the bright streetlights outside.

"Does Chinese be OK?", she asked.

"I don't want you cooking", the rookie stated as all three headed towards the free employee parking lot behind the building where Donnelly's car was awaiting them.

"Doesn't be a problem", Shakahnna replied, "There's a Chinese restaurant that's open late and it's just around the corner from here. The food's be's swell, and for an extra $5 tip, they'll spit in Donnelly's food".

The redhead giggled as they were nearing the parked vehicle, even while Chino addressed his older partner.

"I'm pretty sure she's kidding about that last part, dude", the young man told him as he started unlocking the driver's side front door.

----------------------------------

"It's that one right there", Shakahnna pointed from the backseat window towards the restaurant whose lights were still on even after midnight, "One Hung Low, that's the place".

"It does _not_ say that!", Donnelly countered as he led the car in the restaurant's direction, "What is that? Lo's Happy Palace?".

"Wadda you guys want?", Chino asked both of them from the front passenger seat as he reached into his uniform pocket to count money.

"I'll have the usual", the teenager replied.

"Vegetable lo mein with blood sauce it is", the rookie countered, "And I know, it better be made from 100% genuine virgins".

"Say what??", the older driver turned his head towards the passenger for a split second before facing the street again.

"You know, Donnelly, it be's blood sauce. It makes everything taste better", Shakahnna laughed from the backseat.

"You don't happen to mean sweet and sour sauce, do you? You know, the one that's colored red?", the older man countered, feeling a bit too tired for this type of conversation, and wondering how his two passengers were not, "By the way, dude, I'll take an egg roll and shredded beef szechuan style".

"Health food all around, it is", the rookie smiled as he withdrew three $5 bills while the car was being parked outside the eatery, "Are you two gonna promise to behave while I'm gone. I don't wanna hear any screaming or guns going off while I'm waiting for the food to arrive in there".

"Dude, I'm too tired to argue, so don't worry", Donnelly assured him.

"It'll be fine, Chino. I'll be nice", the teenager replied, "And not even the type of nice I mean when I usually say 'nice'. I mean _nice_ nice, as in I won't pull his hair or bite him type nice".

"Be right back, then", the rookie opened the front passenger door, "And we're all eating healthy tomorrow, considering the kind of garbage we've been putting into our mouth as of late".

"Yes dear, now run along", Shakahnna winked at him before he closed the door and headed inside the restaurant.

The girl laid down on the backseat and was trying to get comfortable as she looked up at the inside roof of the vehicle as the driver removed his seatbelt for a few minutes.

"That was a pretty good job you did a few minutes ago", Donnelly spoke up after a short period of silence.

The redhead sat back up and locked eyes with him via the central mirror that hung at the top of the center of the windshield.

"What?", she asked, feeling confused.

"A little while ago when you broke up the face-off between Steve and the captain, back when we were inside our precinct", the older man told her, "That was a good job. Steve could've gotten into a lot of trouble for the way he was talking to captain Wesker, if the captain decided to hold a grudge, that is".

"Why did they be angry, though?", she quizzed, hoping to find some answers about the situation that had puzzled her earlier.

"I think Steve was worried when he heard that Wesker gave you a gun", Donnelly explained as best he could, all without turning his head around to look at her, "You've never fired a gun before, so something might've gone wrong. Plus, you seem to have that effect on him where he gets too aggressive whenever your well-being is concerned, even if Wesker was probably really careful when he was showing you how to use his piece. By the way, were you at Kendo's, by any chance?".

"Oh, yeah. That's where we'd be'd", she wasn't surprised that the officer was familiar with Wesker's hangout, "But I don't think that Weskie's the type to hold a grudge, though, unless he's got a crazy other personality that I don't know about, I mean".

She laughed at her own statement before resuming the conversation.

"Do you think it'd make him feel better if he came along with us?", she asked next, "That way he'd see that nothing go'd wrong and I'm OK with a gun, especially before I tell him that I wanna acquire one?".

"You know they're expensive, right?", the man stated.

"Yeah, but I got a job that should be starting sometime next week", the teenager pointed out, being careful to not let it slip that she was planning to work at the RPD precinct, "With no bills to pay, plus the huge allowance, the money for the gun and its ammo should be available in a short time".

"Then definitely take Steve with you before you go out and buy yourself one", Donnelly chuckled, "You're dangerous enough as it is anyway".

"Funnily enough, you're not the first person to say that. But no, I wouldn't go behind his back", she smiled, "I like Chino".

It was then that the young man returned to the car and opened front passenger door with one hand while he held a bag with the other.

"All right, it's all here", the rookie sat down as he placed the brown paper bag on the floor between his feet and closed the door behind him, "Let's get home and eat, huh?".

"Sounds like a plan, dude", his partner started the car as both officers were placing their seat belts back on.

"You crashing at my place after we're done?", the younger man asked as the car left the small parking lot.

"Sure, I'm tired anyway, don't much fancy driving back home this late", Donnelly told him as they were driving down the mostly empty but well-lit streets.

A short duration of silence followed as Shakahnna was taking a deep breath.

"Chino, sweetie, I'm getting a gun", the teenager finally blurted out.

"Wha… What??", the rookie turned around to look at her.


	12. Chapter 12 Calm before the storm

"That weekend _did_ seem to go by fast, didn't it?", Shakahnna sighed as she found herself in the backseat of Donnelly's car again, only this time the vehicle was heading back to RPD headquarters instead of taking her home, as it was Monday morning.

"Considering I had to spend most of it with you, it didn't go nearly fast enough", Donnelly grumbled, making Chino smile and shake his head as the younger man wondered if the bickering between both people would ever stop.

"Oh, that doesn't be very nice", the teenager replied, "Oh well, no matter, we're going to the gym tonight anyway, so you _know_ that means I get to take out my aggression on how horrible you just be'd".

She rubbed her hands together in glee as the older officer made himself a silent promise to not be left alone with her, especially not when he could be pinned under the heavy weights that he would be lifting.

"How did the talk go with the mayor yesterday?", Chino asked out loud even though he didn't look at either individual, "I know you were talking to him on the phone yesterday. You didn't seem upset or anything, but was he OK with you coming to stay with us on Friday night after his party? I forgot to ask you when we came back from the video store".

"They don't know that I came over", the teenager chuckled loudly, "They thought I had left either Saturday or Sunday, don't know which. Plus, we mostly talked about plans for college now that my STA results came back. He was telling me where I could go and apply, but I told him I'd rather only have classes online since I really hate students".

"Aren't _you_ a student, though?", the rookie officer pointed out the obvious, "Or at least you _would_ be if once you attended class".

"I mean the whole student mentality thing", she clarified, "Do I really wanna share my time with idiots other than Donnelly who think they're doing an important job by writing stoopid term papers that have utterly nothing to do with real stuff? And let's not forget all the times they go'd on about 'Why don't they..?' and 'They should…' in just those days at the GDE and STA's. I couldn't possibly take semester after semester of that. It be'd like banging my head repeatedly off a wall. One of them was going on how they were going to change the world and money didn't matter. Wanted to kick him in the nuts and scream 'GOAL!!!'. That dick..".

"But you should go to class, it's the only way you can hook up Steve here to teenage girls. I hear it's what he goes for nowadays", Donnelly was the only one to laugh at his own joke as he kept driving.

"But you find college girls too old, right, dude?", Chino countered, prompting the older man to take a quick glance to his passenger, who merely showed him an upraised left middle finger.

"You know, Donnelly, I've never seen you with any girls", the teenager interjected from the backseat, "Maybe it's because you're repulsive".

"Why don't you just go to class all day and discuss the many meanings of Aristotle and Pericles while Steve and I clean up the streets?", the driver grinned as he knew his reply would annoy her, "I hear it's all that girls like you can handle while real men like us make a difference".

Donnelly kept laughing at his own statements yet again.

"Of course you know what this means", the teenager pointed out.

"Oh, great…", the rookie moaned.

"We'll see who's the little girl tonight, shall we?", she promised as the car was nearing their destination.

"Stephen, remember who your loyalty lies with first and foremost", Donnelly addressed the front passenger as he led the vehicle towards the employee parking lot, "It's to your partner first and to everyone else second. So I expect you to live up to that code later on tonight".

"Dude, I'm gonna be there to work out, so you two better be there for the same reason", Chino sighed as he turned his face towards the driver first and the backseat passenger second, "And I _don't_ consider breaking the two of you up to be a workout".

"It's OK, I won't take long enough for you to break us up", the redhead blew him a kiss as Donnelly was parking the car.

"OK, everybody out", the older man ignored her as he took off his seatbelt and opened the front driver's side door.

"You guys mind if I come in with you before I take off towards the mansion?", Shakahnna asked as she exited alongside both men.

"We're in all day today, so you'll be having lunch with us, yeah?", Chino asked as both uniformed officers checked that their many weapons were in the right belt compartment.

"Uh huh", Shakahnna nodded, "Come on, let's get you kids settled in".

------------------------------------

"Damn, _does_ feel like we just left this place, don't it?", Donnelly thought out loud as the trio was climbing the steps in the populated building, as the midnight to 8 AM shift was leaving and the 8 AM to 4 PM shift was arriving simultaneously.

"Hey, what's up?", Chino greeted the officer who was assigned to his desk during the previous stint as both men passed each other, going in opposite directions.

"Member that lunch be's in four hours, so I'll be back to delight you with my antics then", Shakahnna proceeded to kiss the rookie officer on the cheek before she headed towards the main door to leave this section of the floor.

Turning around, she saw that the young man was blushing even while his partner wore a disgusted expression on his face.

"I better not have seen that", the older cop growled in a condemning fashion, though the redhead suspected that even he didn't know what he was accusing her of.

"Cheer up, Donnelly. If you're good, I'll give you one too", she beamed a smile towards both men as she waved a goodbye with her right hand and then disappeared out the door and around the wall that separated this side of the floor from the hallway.

Shakahnna knew she wasn't returning to the mansion today, as she had the plans for Monday set up even as far as three days ago. For starters, it was sometime during the weekend that she remembered where she had seen captain Wesker for the very first time, as he was inside the building along with the skeleton crew when she had come by to look for Chino the same day that she made bail. He had been the one to tell her where officer Chisholm's desk was located before she had the misfortune of running into four other cops who chief Irons had told her were now suspended and transferred for their actions.

The teenager planned to revisit his office and ask how his weekend went, even though she wasn't sure if he'd be there at the moment. Retracing her steps from that fateful evening, she borrowed a piece of paper from one of the many printers that were placed on the desks that she passed and began making an origami flower out of it, which was quickly completed.

It took her another minute to find the captain's office, but she was disappointed to see that the lights inside the room were off and the door was closed, revealing no one there. The teenager wasn't sure whether she should try to pick the lock on the door in order to place the origami on the man's desk along with a note thanking him for the good time she had on Friday night. She decided to try to get her way into the office and, if she was able to succeed easily and without attracting too much attention, then she would do so. Otherwise, she could maybe slip the note and the flower under the door itself.

Taking a hold of the knob, Shakahnna was surprised to find that it turned once she twisted it clockwise. She could tell this wasn't the type of unlocking that had mystically occurred when she was in the basement holding cell. Instead, the captain had simply kept his door unlocked.

"I'm guessing that he doesn't keep his flatheads or anything important here", the redhead spoke to no one in particular as she opened the door and let herself into the dark bureau.

She rested the paper blossom on the crowded desk before she picked up a pen and wrote a note on a sheet of manuscript that was next to it.

'Thank you, I had fun, even if you do take life way too seriously ;) I appreciated you doing that. Come catch up with me at some point when you're having lunch, and it'll be on me, that's if you take lunch ;)

Shak'

After signing the note, the girl left the office and headed towards another one, as she knew she would've back on Friday. All she had to do now was ask where chief Irons' bureau was, and then smile like a bimbo.

---------------------------------

It was approximately half an hour before Shakahnna returned to the work area where officers Chisholm and Donnelly. She saw Chino sitting on the older man's desk while Donnelly was to the rookie's right and leaned back on his own chair.

"…never dealt with a drug addict on the long run like this before, _that's_ why you're having so many problems with this. But court is tomorrow, and this should work out for the best for everyone involved, dude", Donnelly explained, "Just go there tomorrow, they always say be there between 9 and 9:30, but fuck that. It never starts in time, so you call it and they'll tell you to show up whenever. Whichever, you'll hopefully be heard before lunch and this chick will go away for a while".

"So we're helping her two kids by forcing them into their grandparents' home and helping her by sending her to jail", Chino sighed as he stared at the wall on the other side of the floor.

"If the sentence lets her be paroled to a drug inpatient program, then damn right it's helping everyone. How many goddamn times were we gonna go to that house because dealers were banging on her door looking to be paid and…", Donnelly was interrupted for an instant as he sighed loudly, "You better stop fucking doing that".

"Huh? Better stop doing what, dude?", the young man asked as he turned his head to his own right to look down at the seated man.

Chino only saw then that Donnelly's attention was diverted to the older man's left and to an area that was directly behind him. The rookie turned around and had to do a double take before he recognized that the teenager was standing behind him.

"What, and miss seeing that look on your face every time I did?", Shakahnna grinned as she eyed both men.

"What're you doing back here?", the young man stood up as he turned around, "I thought you were going back home this morning".

"Anything you want. I be your personal secretary now", the teenager stepped towards them before she leaned forward on the opposite side of Donnelly's desk, "Well, any officer's personal secretary. That's what the chief said my job was starting today. So… how may I be of service?".

"You have GOT to be kidding!", the older man stood up, "The only part of my day when I _don't_ have to stare at your ugly face is taken away!".

"You know Donnelly, you seem to be having so much pent-up aggression, so until you start acting nice, I'm not typing up any of _your_ files", she countered his statement.

"If you make this job even more difficult than it already is, then I'll report your ass", the older man threatened.

"To who, my uncle Brian??", she countered.

"Who, Shak?", Chino asked with a much friendlier voice than his partner was using.

"How do you think I be'd getting this job so quick?", she stood back up to her full height, "Seems the chief here be's close friends with the Warrens. Asked him at that party on Friday, told me he could get me a job, well, now".

She locked eyes with the rookie.

"Does that be OK with you?", she asked him.

"No, it doesn't!", Donnelly answered in the young man's place, "He's got work to do, what with all the fine citizenry out there who are begging to be taken to jail".

"I know that, and that's why I wanna be here, to help out", she replied with a serious tone, as opposed to the sarcastic one that Chino was expecting her to have, "And since I can't be a police cop, this'll do for now".

She then pointed her right index finger at the older cop.

"And _you_, member you're sparring with me tonight, so you better stop giving me hassle", she informed him.

"Say what? I don't remember agreeing to that", Donnelly countered.

"But you know you will anyway, it'll be too much of a blow to your ego if you say you won't fight with one little girl", the redhead winked.

"Until I find out what this 'little girl' has been sniffing and injecting into herself, I ain't doing nothing without being dressed from head to toe in riot gear", the officer pointed back.

"We'll see, but anyway, shut up", she brushed off as she turned her attention back to the younger man, "So what be's there for me to do? I mean, first, are you sure that this be's OK with you? Don't wanna make you get sick of me, cause am always there at home and now being at work together too".

"No, of course it's fine! But first we have to show you how to type out the many different kinds of files we have here", Chino motioned behind him towards his own desk.

"I get my own deskie bit, with the other secretaries", she informed both men as she smiled at the rookie, "So it just be's a matter of making it be personal and stuff so can be my own ickle … environment." 

"Remember that it's only yours for eight hours a day, Shak, so please keep that in mind when you're bringing stuff from home", the young man advised, "Because whatever you bring here stays here when you're not at work, but other employees _will_ be within an arm's reach of them for the other sixteen hours".

"So you're saying that if, say, I were to leave Joanne here, someone may just decide to borrow her and take her home?", the teenager's eyes widened. "That's the best thing I've ever heard!".

"Where's your desk?", the rookie smiled back without replying to her question.

The redhead unfolded a makeshift piece of paper that had a rough outline of the second floor of the station on it.

"Irons said it'd be'd right there", she pointed at an X on the map.

"Not too far from here, I'm pretty sure I can find it", he motioned her to follow him.

"Dude, we got stuff to do!", Donnelly protested as he watched them leave.

"I'll be back in a few, don't sweat it", the rookie promised as he saw officer Frost nearing the older man's desk.

The youngest officer there temporarily left that area of the floor with the redhead, both to show her the area she'd be working at as well as to introduce her to as many of his colleagues as he could find.

"What can I do for you while my esteemed partner is searching this entire building top to bottom for a secluded corner to bang that chick, Joseph?", Donnelly extended his right hand towards the other officer.

"I'm not here on business, actually, Eric", Frost gripped his right hand for a couple of seconds, "I'm going out on car patrol with Samuel in about half an hour after he gets the car from the garage, but I've been organizing a get-together for the guys on our floor, going around and basically taking a survey of when's a good time for everyone to meet".

"Sounds like a good idea, dude. What date and time do you have in mind?", Donnelly sat on the surface of his own desk as he looked up at his colleague.

"So far, this Friday at 5 PM sounds like the kind of time that most of us are free", Frost informed him, "And the couple of guys who were not said they'd ask the captain for a change in their shift to earlier in that day so they _would_ be available. Captain always lets us pick and choose if we have stuff going on".

"Sounds good, count me and Steve in", Donnelly gave a thumbs-up, "Though I suspect he'll insist on bringing his own red-headed squeeze toy with him, regardless of how many times I insist that he should keep her at home, in a cage".

"You mean that girl he just left with?", the patrol officer pointed behind him.

"Yeah, turns out she's a secretary now, something I suspect she's doing for the sole reason of getting on my nerves", the seated man sighed.

"Oh, man, don't let anyone here get under your skin like that", Frost smiled back, "Just think of her face when you're having trouble getting energized for a workout. I find that nothing fires you up on the short run like fury, so people who get on your nerves _do_ serve a purpose, you know. Just remember to only use them for that reason and you'll be fine".

"Hey, _you_ haven't had the pleasure of listening to her TALK", Donnelly countered, "She's like one of those toddlers who screams nonstop inside a crowded bus and never shuts the hell up, making you want to pull your gun out to give it a permanent silence for the good of society".

"Are you OK, Eric?", Frost crossed his arms in front of his chest, "You don't sound happy here, man".

"No, no, shouldn't be bitching this much about a freaking kid, just…ugh!", Donnelly clenched his hands together, "We're already behind in our work and Steve takes off with her because she's a secretary all of a sudden".

"How about if I stay here and take his place till Samuel calls for me if you're feeling alone, at least till he comes back?", Frost settled down in Donnelly's own chair as he looked up at his fellow officer.

"Nothing I won't get over, I'm sure. Tell me this – that captain you were talking about, the one who you said let us pick our time slots, is that the Wesker fellow? The weird guy who keeps his shades on even at nighttime?", Donnelly asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, the very same. I actually hung out with him just a bit before he moved up in the world", the seated man recalled, "Beats me how the hell he got moved up so quick, even if he _was_ the one who took Bradshell out after Francine died. But either way, Wesker's cool. Why do you ask?".

"Just weird that the guy moved up to captain when I never heard of him before", Donnelly admitted, "The only other captain I know of by name had been here for literally a decade, but this guy? Plus, again, the shades…".

"Ah, yes, the glasses are an enigma", Frost laughed, "He's got this cool guy thing going on with the gelled hair and the glasses, at least that's my theory. I bet it would work really well too, if he ever had any contact of the female variety. The guy's too busy mysteriously getting into shootouts on a regular basis. You know he was personally involved with the only two major shootouts by the RPD in the last year?".

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll shoot Shak, then", Donnelly grimaced.

"Oh, no, you don't mean that, Eric", the patrol officer replied, "I wouldn't wish that on anyone except assholes like that Bradshell guy. Besides, I did ask Wes if he'd be there on Friday with us, and he definitely wants to, as much as he pretends to be doing it only because he has 'no other things to do', like he says".

"Nice impression of him. Just put sunglasses on and you could probably pass for him", Donnelly pointed out as Chino showed up around the corner and began walking towards them from behind Frost's chair.

"Hey dude, this is Joe Frost", his partner pointed towards the fellow officer as Frost stood up and partly turned around, "We were just talking about the guy you were almost fighting with on Friday night".

"What?", Frost asked, sounding louder than he expected.

"Frost? Hi, I'm Stephen Chisholm", Chino shook the man's hand.

"Look, I really should get back Sam", Frost patted Donnelly on the back as he pointed towards Chino, "Could you tell him about Friday?".

"Yeah, sure thing. I never go anywhere without him anyway", the older man stated.

"So I'll see you guys there. And come hungry", Frost chuckled as he left to head towards the garage.

"So what about that weird guy with the shades??", the rookie asked once he was alone with his partner.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"Shakahnna, I am warning you!", Joseph Frost heard the voice even before he'd opened the door to the staff room. 

Officer Frost knew the voice to be that of Eric Donnelly right away. Although they didn't see each other that much anymore since Donnelly had switched to the opposite side of the building, they still remained friends and occasionally did things socially, even if it was only once every other week. In fact, that is why Frost was heading toward where Donnelly's voice came from. After several months, he'd actually managed to get everyone in the same place for a get-together after work. Even Albert Wesker was supposed to be there, who'd be a rare commodity ever since being promoted to captain. Frost knew there was something up with the quick promotion that his former peer received, but whatever that may be, there was no denying that Wesker was a good cop. So despite the curiosity, there seemed no reason to make waves from his point of view as he couldn't think of anyone who'd be better in that position of power. 

"SHAKAHNNA LET ME FUCKING GO!".

The second youngest officer smiled, as he knew that Donnelly never changed. But who or what event had him going like he was at this time? 

Speeding his step up, Frost opened the door to see Donnelly bent over double with his arm reaching towards the ceiling. Holding the arm in place was a young red-headed girl who was gleefully leading him around the room like a prized monkey.

"Hey, am I interrupting something here?", Frost cut in as he felt more than slightly worried because someone he knew not to be an officer was holding one of his colleagues in a raised arm lock and taking him around as he was still facing the floor. 

Any effort on Donnelly's behalf to bring his head up lasted only a second before it was forced back down because of the angle his shoulder was locked at. The girl finally looked up, not surprised by the inquisitiveness, to see who the new young blond man was who'd asked the question. Her eyes were round and sparkled with mischief and red lips tilted at the side to give a small grin. She raised her free hand and gave a wave using only her fingers, bringing them down to the base of her palm a few times. 

"Ahh Joseph, nice to see you again. I presume you have not yet had the pleasure of meeting miss Warren", Frost next heard captain Wesker's voice from his left side before he saw the older man, "And you already know everyone else".

Marvin Branagh gave Frost the heads up as he was standing next to the seated captain. Both men were dressed in casual clothes, along with everyone else in the room, and no one was wearing their work uniforms. Thus, Frost felt comfortable with the bandanna that covered the entire top of his head and was tied in a knot at the back, leaving two pieces of cloth trailing at the back. 

"You've no idea how many times a day I see those two at it. Either verbally or physically", Branagh added with a grin, not even bothering to try to break up the stalemate between his colleague and the younger secretary, "Nice hat, by the way".

"And I see them fighting double that", Chino said quietly, rolling his eyes in good humor as Frost bowed to Branagh in mock gratitude.

Everyone seemed to see the funny side of this situation, except for Donnelly, of course.

"When you let me go, I swear Shakahnna Warren, I am going to punch your fucking teeth out!", the irate officer continued, still staring at the floor for most of the time.

"Then why would I let you go?", the girl inquired, the laughter never leaving her voice as others around the room chuckled.

Her answer wasn't cruel, just friendly. Frost knew that, despite him having never seen this particular event before, situations like this must be a regular occurrence in the RPD building. It was the only way to explain how relaxed everyone else appeared. 

"Shak", Chino said gently while locking eyes with her. 

Without another word, the teenager let go of Donnelly's arm and gracefully walked away from him until she reached officer Chino and then sat on the floor at his feet, leaning against the man's legs. 

"Aww, Chino and his fucking puppy", Donnelly growled after standing up vertically again.

The older man's face was red. Whether that was from the arm lock he'd just experienced or because of the mortification of being placed in it to begin with, no one could tell.

"Better watch, Eric. I might just bite you", she grinned back.

"Shak, you're a horror, you know that?", Wesker chimed in, appearing to be in as good a mood as Frost had seen him in a long time, perhaps even ever. 

In the moderately decorated conference room were several faces that Frost found to be familiar, including Donnelly, Chino, Wesker, Branagh, Yuen, David and Brenner.

"So, where exactly are we going?", Shakahnna spoke up, "Does it be one of those all you can eat thingies? Those are swell".

"You can try the pound for that", Donnelly countered, "I hear they let their visitors have all the food they want the day before they're gassed".

"Are you gonna let him talk to me like that?", the teenager pouted at Wesker as she made sure her eyes appeared sad for only a few seconds before returning them to normal.

"See, miss Warren, I wouldn't allow this type of dialogue in the presence of a lady like yourself if I could stop it", the captain replied from behind his sunglasses, "But unfortunately, my authority ended twenty minutes ago along with my shift".

"I'll 'member that, you", she replied while simultaneously throwing a ball of tissue at Donnelly's head.

++++++++++++++++++++

"Hi, Shak, is it?", Joseph Frost noticed the redhead as she was seated on a revolving chair in front of one of the many personal computers that were set in the precinct.

"Hello, officer Frost, what can I be doing for you?", the teenager quickly turned her face towards him before returning her attention back to the screen as she was busy typing out an incident report.

"I thought that Chisholm was at the gym across the street", Frost rubbed his head, "Considering how you two were at the restaurant yesterday, I was sure you'd be there with him. Unless you hate being around Eric _that_ much".

"I'll tell you a secret", she gave a conspirator grin as she continued typing, "I don't dislike Donnelly. In fact, if anything, I like him and I like it when he's around. He looks after Chino and gives him a lot of good advice. And even if he'd probably like to see me dead, I'm still glad that he be's here. But don't tell him that. I just torment him cause it's funny". 

"So why are you here if you're OK with both guys? Unless it's the captain", the officer curiously questioned.

"Weskie? Oh god no!", the teenager informed him, "He's great to be around too, though be's_ way_ too uptight".

"One question you have to answer, though", the young man pressed on as he took hold of a nearby chair and rolled it towards her area before he sat down on it.

"Uh huh, what's that?", she glanced towards him a second time.

"Just how in the world did you get away with calling the captain a name like that?", Frost asked incredulously. 

"Well, they made me be in a dress when I acquired Wesker, so that gives me the right to call him that", she snickered as she returned her attention towards the screen, "I dunno for sure, but maybe tis one of those he be's reminded of himself when he was younger things. And we get on well. I make him have fun, he makes me be serious, or at least tries to. And I'm SO gonna get those glasses off his face".

"You too??", the officer laughed as he slapped his hands together and gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up, "I've been wanting to do that ever since the first day I met Wes a year ago. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a great leader, but there's something just weird about how he's so obsessed about his job, in general, and his freaking shades, in particular. I _did_ consider yanking those damn things off his face once, but then got mental images of him using me as his own personal whipping boy".

"Nah, Weskie may look all rough, and even have the act that be's with it when he's on the job, but the guy's a real teddy bear, especially when it comes to his boys in blue", the teenager suggested, "But I'll tell you something, Frost, I'll do it, as soon as this sheet be's done".

She concluded her statement by pressing the Enter button on the keyboard.

"Which be's right now", Shakahnna announced, "Incident report typed and saved".

The redhead stood up from her chair as she turned towards the still-seated man.

"No way, you'll never get close enough to his face, one, and if you _do_ manage to do so, you'll never get away with those glasses, two", the young man replied as he looked up at her, "Unless you have Chisholm, Eric and about a dozen other patrol guys in riot gear standing between you and him when you're running away with his shades".

"So would you like me to be bringing those sunglasses back here, Joe?", the grin on her face hinted that she was feeling more confident that he thought she should, "Or do you wanna come with and watch the spectacle unfold, sort of like one of those watching a historical event that you know will never happen again type thingies".

"Nah, I got a ton of stuff to do", the young man stood up in his own turn, "I got too much stuff to do here to watch you try to get close to him before you realize you can't and then spend the rest of your time in the gym working out".

"That sounds like a challenge, Joey", Shakahnna smiled wide, "A hundred bucks says I can be bringing those glasses back here before your shift is up and leave them on your desk. Although, if you want them to be signed, that probably might be a bit more than I'm capable of, unless you mean _mien_ autograph, which will be easy, for free too".

"Just say 'hi' to Eric and Chisholm and stay safe when you're lifting there", the officer informed her as he headed back to his work station while he knew she would have to go the same in direction to leave the building.

"By the way, I saw your girlfriend yesterday. Wasn't she the one who tried to put three egg rolls into her mouth at once? It was really cool when she had to spit them out because they wouldn't fit", the redhead recalled.

"Were _you_ the one who put that idea into her head?", Frost pointed at her.

"Uhuh, I'm sowwy", she laughed, "You have to admit, though, that drunk people are fun. And even _if_ Chino would let me drink, Donnelly wouldn't, and it's probably for a good reason".

"Remember the fine points of the law, Shak, as Raccoon City says you need to be 21 to…", Frost chose his words carefully, "To try to fit three egg rolls into your mouth".

"Just tell her I be'd saying 'hi'? She's a great girl, and pretty too", she waved as she was nearing the stairs to go to the first floor and then the main entrance, "You be a lucky boy".

"Aw, thanks", he waved back as he watched her heading downstairs.

"I just hope she doesn't end up getting arrested by going after his face", the officer thought out loud as he headed towards his desk.

----------------------------------

The white gi pants and green sleeveless top were definitely more relaxing than the outfit she wore while on the job, even if she was allowed jeans and sneakers while at the RPD. Still, though, these were arguably the most comfortable clothes that ever existed, so nothing that could be worn over skin was going to best it in the coziness category. And that was good considering the teenager wanted to use every bit of flexibility available to her while she pointed a tempting index finger at Donnelly as the officer was catching his breath while seated up on a weightbench.

"You owe me a sparring session", Shakahnna got the man's attention as well as that of officer Chisholm's while the latter was using the shoulder press machine several steps away.

"Get real. I ain't in the mood", the older man countered as he reached for a nearby bottle of water.

"You're wussing out _again_?", the redhead replied with a tone that was louder than it needed to be, just for the sake of everyone who was around.

"Shak, I don't feel like breaking you two up when you're wrapped up around each other like pretzels that were shoved into a blender, so let's just do the weights and cardio instead, OK?", Chino called from a short distance away.

She reasoned it was probably due to the rookie feeling that he was running out of energy for the night, and thus wishing to spend his remaining strength on his workout rather than on monitoring his partner and her. That was acceptable, but the lack of enjoyment in this somber environment was not, at least not to her.

"I guess there's no _real_ men here after all", she continued announcing out loud to the pair of officers, even though she wasn't sure if both men together or Donnelly alone were staring back at her with an aggravated look on their face, "Except maybe me, I suppose. There be's a real lack of competition here".

"You've never had the pleasure of going up against me, then", a third man's voice interjected from behind.

Shakahnna turned around and saw Albert Wesker approaching her while he was dressed in an RPD field t-shirt along with tracksuit bottoms.

If Chino was upset over anything, she would have to ask him about it later as the teenager did not know what had been happening here while she was finishing her paperwork before catching up to them at the gym. But whether it was a simple issue like a bad workout or something more complicated, she didn't know a better way to try to cheer him up than by following through with her previous conversation with officer Frost anyway. 

Thus, Shakahnna's mouth revealed a smile at the left side of her lips as she also saw that captain Wesker still had his sunglasses on.

"I hear that you were looking for a sparring partner", the older man set down a gym bag he had over his shoulder which the teenager suspected contained his Desert Eagle, and perhaps some workout equipment also, but she was only guessing about the latter.

"Maybe I could be teaching you something since you showed me how to fire a gun", Shakahnna told him.

"I would not count on that. But you are welcome to try", the captain walked towards her in a most self-assured way, leading her to believe that he only expected his match with her to be a warm-up before his real training began for the evening.

"Well, just remember to be careful with me", her smile widened, "I'm only ickle".

"How about that mat over there?", Wesker pointed behind her to an area that was a few yards away from the weight machines that Chisholm and Donnelly were using, "Assuming you're ready to go now".

"That be's fine", she turned and headed towards that spot as she heard the older man picking his bag back up to follow her.

He definitely had his weapon in there, she told herself. Otherwise, he would've just kept it somewhere within his visual area, but he was instead insistent on having it within an arm's reach.

"You ready?", she asked as she saw him dropping the gym bag next to the mat and then, surprisingly, walking on the thick pad with his shoes on.

"I've seen people do everything on this mat short of eat off it, so don't worry about the 'proper' tradition of being barefoot", the older man responded to her question even before the statement had a chance to grace her lips.

"You need to stretch first?", the teenager asked him even while she knew she did not need to.

"Not at all, my body's always ready, 24/7, in more ways than one, or so I've been told", the captain grinned at his own words as he placed his feet in an L stance and brought his arms up in positions where the right arm was slightly bent and placed parallel to his right thigh while the hand remained open.

His left arm was then bent at a 90 degree angle with the forearm being parallel to the floor and that hand appeared ready to become a fist. His fighting stance was in contrast to the relaxed position she kept her body at while she remained standing at ease.

The teenager couldn't see officers Chisholm or Donnelly by that time as they were out of her line of sight, but the older of the two patrolmen saw his partner glaring at the sparring duo. So Donnelly kept off his next planned set on the weightbench and walked over to the shoulder press machine instead.

"You OK, dude?", the older man rested his right upper arm on the steel machine as he stood next to the rookie.

"Huh? What?", Chisholm was surprised as he hadn't noticed his partner approaching.

"You don't seem to be into this evening", his partner pointed out the obvious.

"Who the hell does he think he is?", the young man pointed his open right hand towards the captain as he turned his face towards Donnelly, "First he takes her out _shooting_ and now he's rolling about with her on a mat?! And did you HEAR what he just said?!".

"Dude, _nobody_ wants that chick except for you", his partner told him in a tone of re-assurance, "And I don't even know why _you_ do to begin with. Why don't you do yourself a favor and upgrade to that blonde chick who works as a secretary during the evening shift?".

"What's he playing at?", the rookie continued, leaving Donnelly curious as far as whether or not he had heard the older man's comments.

"Well…", the more experienced cop sighed, "Either he's got a masochistic urge to be with your girlfriend, which, as I said before, isn't possible as _you're_ the only one who's messed up enough in the head to wanna be with her all the time, or he's just looking for someone to fight with. And if he's stupid enough to go head to head with her, the least we can do is watch and laugh".

Donnelly turned his attention back towards the mat that was several yards away and caught a glimpse of the ongoing match as the older man swung a right hook punch but found it blocked with her left forearm. The teenager appeared to be striking back with a right jab to his face, and he ended up catching her fist in his own turn with a left grip.

Seeing that move, Donnelly was about to shout "Watch your groin!" when, sure enough, the redhead kicked her left foot towards the specific area right in between her opponent's legs. She didn't use all her force, as the attack was merely a distraction to buy her the instant she needed to loosen his grip, which he did in response.

Shakahnna used her right hand to grab his left wrist and twisted Wesker's left arm until his elbow was pointed towards the floor in a subservient position and her arm had the advantage while it clamped down, using gravity to make up for her size disadvantage.

The teenager then took a grip on the underside of his left upper sleeve and pivoted on her own foot until both their backs were touching and his left arm was past her shoulder and in front of her like a seatbelt. She finally sank her hips until they were under his and used both hands to pull his upper body down with her before throwing the captain over her shoulders, sending him landing back-first on the mat in front of her.

Shakahnna let go with one of her arms and used the other hand to twist the older man on his stomach even before Wesker recovered from the throw, still keeping his left arm straight as it was now pointed towards the ceiling.

"What the…", was all Wesker had time to say before he saw her reaching down and yanking the sunglasses off his face.

The redhead kept the shades in her left hand while she kept her right grip on his arm even while she could tell he was trying to get back up to a kneeling position. She then looked towards Chino's direction, gave him a quick wink and quickly bolted out of the gym while she heard the RPD captain using several loud expletives behind her.

-----------------------------------

Joseph Frost looked up from the desk, sensing something moving towards him from the doorway. He was surprised to see Shakahnna walking towards him as she kept her left hand behind her lower back, especially because he had talked to her half an hour ago when she told him she was planning to spend the evening at the gym with her friends. If that discrepancy alone wasn't enough, the lowered face she was showing him along with the blood-red lips that were curved up in a mischievous smile indicated to him that the newly-hired secretary was up to some form of no good.

"Oh Joey, honey, I gotted a little something for you", she mentioned as she reached the area where he was seated, "You owe me a hundred dollars. A check or cash will be fine".

Before the officer had a chance to answer, the redhead placed a pair of sunglasses on the wooden surface of his desk. Looking at the shades first, then at her, then at the glasses again, Frost's eyes bulged as a wide grin crept on his face. But the smile was soon forgotten when he heard a familiar male voice screaming from the first floor downstairs.

"WHERE THE HELL IS SHE??!!", the young man heard the captain's footsteps slamming against the floor as he neared the staircase to reach the second floor.

"As much as I would love to stay around and gloat, I'm afraid I must head as, if he catches me, he really _will_ kill me", the teenager declared before she dashed towards the other side of the second floor, most likely in an attempt to use the back exit to leave the place.

It wasn't long after she was gone that an irate Albert Wesker appeared at the same doorway that she had emerged from to talk to Frost. The captain saw the young man at his desk and locked eyes with him as he walked past other, surprised officers there.

"The redhead from last night, where did she go, Joseph?", the older man approached him in turn.

It was only then that Wesker saw his sunglasses sitting on the surface of Frost's desk.

"She ran through here and left these there", the officer pointed out, conveniently leaving out the conversation he had with the redhead a short while ago as he saw that the captain had blue eyes for the first time since meeting him, "You OK, Wes?".

Before answering, the older man took a hold of his dark glasses and methodically placed them over his eyes.

"I take it she's gone by now", the Umbrella operative asked, acting much calmer all of a sudden.

"Yeah, she ran like hell. Didn't see where she was going", Frost gave a half-truth as he stood up from his chair, "What the hell happened?".

"Some _child's_ idea of a joke, or a past-time, I'm unsure which. Must be a side effect of having too much time on her hands", Wesker sighed.

"Wes, where's your piece? Don't tell me you left it in the gym when you were chasing that girl", the younger man pointed out.

It took a moment of silence as the spy from Umbrella registered what he said.

"Answer me this, Joseph, how do you know I was at the gym?" Wesker finally questioned.

"Ummm…", Frost swallowed.

The patrol officer intentionally coughed to give himself a few seconds to think of the best answer to that question which would not involve the truth.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"Good morning, captain", the unknown officer greeted as he was passed in the hallway.

Albert Wesker nodded his head slowly as he returned the greeting while he made his way through the second floor of the RPD. On the way to his destination, the uniformed man walked by chief Irons' office and noticed that the door leading to it was open, so Wesker realized that he couldn't resist temptation. 

Keeping the files that were his responsibility between the left side of his stomach and left forearm, he casually waved at the older man with his right arm while marching past the open door.

"How are you, boss?", Wesker called out with a grin on his face as he got Irons' attention while the chief was seated behind his desk, "How's the wife and kids? Oh, wait…".

The younger man chuckled to himself as he kept walking away because he registered the irate look on his superior's face while he had been forced to look up from the work at hand due to the distraction.

From there, the Umbrella spy had some unfinished business to take care of, so he headed towards one desk in particular where he spotted the back of a redhead as she was seated and absorbed in what she was doing. So Wesker walked past the work areas and the many employees there before he made his way towards Shakahnna's reception area.

He stopped once he was behind her and within an arm's reach of her left shoulder.

"Would you be so kind as to type out and then print these court summaries?", the uniformed man handed her all the files that were in his possession.

She probably would've recognized his voice if she was paying attention, but she apparently wasn't this time around, as her interest was feverishly focused on the screen ahead for whatever reason. But the teenager instead stuck her left arm out behind her to receive the documents even while she continued typing with her right hand.

So the captain placed all his paperwork in her left grip and watched the girl bring them in front of her before lightly slapping them on the surface of her desk.

Wesker was waiting for her to at least turn around to see who had handed her the extra work, but the teenager never did, opting to only keep tapping away at her keyboard almost as if she was taking part in a typing contest with an unknown adversary. This continued for about half a minute before the older man in the shades had enough and sighed before he placed his right hand on her left shoulder.

"Can I help…", the redhead began as she turned her head to look over her left shoulder and stopped in mid-sentence when she recognized who she was addressing, "Uuuuh… Hi, Weskie".

Shakahnna gave him one of those smiles that indicated she was in trouble and she knew it. She turned around on the chair to fully face his direction as she thought that it was a good thing she didn't have to depend on this job for her living expenses.

"What you did yesterday, young lady, was very unintelligent", the Umbrella operative finally got to speak to her as he looked down at her eyes through his own shades, which he then touched with his right index finger, "You're lucky I found these before I found you last night".

"You did said I was welcome to try to teach you something", the teenager gave an answer that he wasn't sure if it was sarcasm or if she was truly being serious.

"One expects a certain decorum when dealing with members of the RPD, miss Warren", the captain went on as his arms relaxed on either side of his body, "If you wish to continue working here, you need to follow them".

She made a mental note that he referred to her by her last name instead of her first one. What she couldn't read, though, was his facial expression, so she decided to keep listening to hopefully get a grip of how unfriendly he was currently feeling.

"If that's how you want it, sir", she answered with the same kind of formalities he had used as she shrugged her shoulders.

"Now, as hilarious as last night's event would appear to someone _other_ than myself, I must at least ask that you notify me of such plans on your part beforehand, so I'm actually in on the joke when I'm part of the punch line for our colleagues here", his tone softened as what appeared to be a smirk showed on the right side of his lips, "We both know they need every bit of humor, considering who their chief is".

The gloomy expression that was creeping on her face was suddenly replaced with a smiling one as the secretary placed her right hand in front of her face.

"Very busy today?", Wesker changed the subject as he looked over the pile of things on her desk that would give even his own work area a run for its money.

The redhead took on an annoyed expression.

"Bloody Donnelly", she cursed, "Says we can't go to lunch until 'Chino is all caught up', stupid prick. So now, I said I'd take half of all Chino's garbage that needs being done, and Donnelly then gave me a ton of stuff that _he_ needed done, plus I gotted my own workload to do too".

"I _do_ admire your desire to work for a living, considering that many in your position would just let the mayor pay your way", the captain stated, "Unless you're solely doing this because he wouldn't increase your allowance and you're desperate to save for a Desert Eagle".

"Nu uh, I could afford one in a couple of weeks without working here", she didn't have to exaggerate, "I just like doing something productive with my time. Plus, you know, Chino".

"Ah, of course, that young man", Wesker recalled his meeting with the rookie officer.

"Besides, for all the trouble Donnelly's giving me before I even get to go to lunch today, once I get off work, I be planning to steal his cuffs and handcuff him naked to a lamppost outside", the secretary went on with the same tone of voice.

"Are you ever _not_ in trouble?", the older man asked, not sure if she was telling him of actual plans or just a fantasy. 

Shakahnna didn't answer as he saw the smile melting off her lips before her face turned the color of ash.

"What is it?", he asked as he turned partly around, realizing that she was looking behind him all of a sudden.

"What's he doing here?", the teenager asked, though Wesker could tell she wasn't addressing him as he only saw several uniformed patrol officers throughout the floor behind him.

"Who?", he turned back to look down at her seated figure.

The surprised teenager still didn't tell him what she was talking about as she was staring at officer Whey, who was passing through that section of the RPD level. It was only at that time that the patrolman saw her by chance also, prompting him to freeze in place as he also looked worried. He only stood in place for a pair of seconds before he regained his composure and continued on his way to the other side of the floor. But his reaction was noticed by the captain more so than by the redhead before Wesker turned his focus back down on her.

Her expression remained shocked before she shook her head and then cleared the hair out of her face, thus returning it closer to normal.

"Would you care to explain what just happened?", he asked, his curiosity demanding to be satisfied.

"Nothing", she lied as she shook her head and kept her eyes down.

"I happen to know that's not true", the spy continued as he took another look behind him to confirm that Whey was truly gone before looking at her again, "So I'll remember to ask again during a more opportune time".

"It's OK, really", she informed him, looking up this time, but still without the cheery attitude.

"As you wish", he let go of the topic, at least for now, "But if you would prefer informing me next we train at Kendo's range, feel free to do so. Perhaps on Friday evening, after work?".

"Are you gonna be nice to Chino?", she asked first, "Please?".

"You mean Chisholm?", Wesker answered with a question of his own, "I'm nice to everyone who deserves it, Shak, so of course".

"Then count me in, I'd love to", the redhead informed him, "And if some friends of mine wanna be there too, they be allowed?".

"Whoever you want to be there will be there. It's a public area", the captain told her as if she should've known already.

"I'll be there", she promised, "But one thing, Weskie – Any chance I can buy flatheads with my own money?".

"Shak, how many different times should a man say 'no'?", the high-ranking officer asked.

"As many times as he needs to be tired, gives in and says 'yes', of course", she beamed at him.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"Weren't we just here last month?", Wesker complained to himself and whoever was within hearing range as he made his way to the 40th floor of the Wachman Towers at the interception of Euston and Central streets in downtown Raccoon City.

"It was several months ago, so _please_ do everybody a favor and be quiet", Elena Warren replied, "A good scientist would be thinking of ways to keep one's funding intact, as well as all the bones in one's face. Which is why you're not, I suppose".

"Just get in here, both of you, and stop the bickering. You sound like children", Annette Birkin chastised them both as armed security personnel courteously opened the door to an oval-shaped conference room, allowing the trio to enter the area along with Annette's husband, vice-president Claymont and a handful of other scientists who appeared out of place without the prerequisite white lab coats.

"I'm surprised that our esteemed employer doesn't seem to trust us. Why was that metal detector necessary? You mean that they've been staring down gun barrels during financial reviews in the past?", the scientist with the sunglasses grinned at his own remarks, "And what does it accomplish to drag us to their lair? Any employer who _cares_ about the morale of his employees would visit the sheep in its own environment. I've seen it in Toys R Us and countless other fast food joints. So why aren't we visited in the labs under the mansion?".

"Albert, _please_!", Claymont hissed as they went inside, taking notice of the large rectangular table that was waiting for them in the middle, "For once, I'd like to not fall into the stereotype of spoiled children who have too much power on their hands".

Everyone there took notice of the fact that the left wall of the room was a mirror, whereas Wesker was the first to think to himself that it would be used as a method of communication for White Umbrella's top brass to communicate with them. So much for the idea of threatening those individuals, he scoffed.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you'd please take your seat around the table, our senior partners are here", Penny walked in after the group as she pointed towards the mirror and the motion-sensor lights were turned on by themselves.

The Umbrella employee walked up to the head of the table until she was standing next to Elena Warren before she respectfully pulled out a chair for the mayor's wife. 

"Oh, thank you, Penny", Mrs. Warren smiled at Penny as the older but subordinate employee nodded and stood next to the scientists themselves while each invited person was making themselves as comfortable as the situation would allow.

It didn't seem to bother Wesker that everyone else was grouped on one side of the table, several chairs away from him, and he was seated on the other end. Even with the suited paper pushers who had never met him, his reputation apparently went a long way due to his temper while on the job, and especially when it came to money negotiations.

"Let me first introduce you to the senior partners of White Umbrella", Penny first pointed towards the one-way mirror, even though only the image of the people in that room was reflected.

Wesker raised his left forearm, touched his forehead with the index finger and then waved a sarcastic hello into his own mirror image.

"Sirs, these are vice-president Claymont, Elena Warren, William and Annette Birkin and over there is Albert Wesker, the heads of your research branch", Penny continued, pointing past the lower-ranked employees who were between the ones she mentioned.

"First order of business", the artificial voice from the other side of the mirror began, "Do you have a report on the suspected tyrant that we've been hearing nonstop about from Mr. Wesker?".

"I can cover that, sir", William raised his forearm to bring attention to himself, "There _are_ slight traces of abnormality in the cells that were examined, but it's nothing substantial as the cells are definitely human and no traces of any virus were found".

"I disagree with this completely", Wesker stood up, not showing a hint of the anger he currently felt towards his colleague.

For once, he had to admit that showing off his almost patented rage while on the job wouldn't serve him as well as trying to speak to the heads of WU in a language they understood, which was to be done by putting their profit margin at risk.

"The subject shows inhuman strength and extraordinary camouflage capability, fitting right into a human society", the slightly older scientist mentioned from behind the shades, "No one less than the perfect tyrant specimen could pull off such a feat. Our objective demands that we find out as much as possible about it as splicing her DNA in with the T-virus could…".

"The T-virus will be obsolete in two years, sir", a much calmer Birkin interjected from his seated position.

"If you'll excuse me, before I was interrupted, I believe there's a lot more money to be made from the T-virus as is", Wesker suppressed the desire to forcefully shut his colleague up, "Imagine, if you can, a virus that can hide within the host and appear to be nothing but natural when it's extracted from the host itself. That's what this specimen has. If we take this innate ability and use it with our own strain, the potential is unimaginable, much bigger than this so-called G-virus that's being discussed even before the full capability of its predecessor is investigated".

"No, with all due respect, I must disagree", Birkin continued in his own turn with the verbal confrontation, "This is all totally unsubstantiated and there's no proof to serve as evidence for anything he's alleging. My associate here is using more wishful thinking than actual facts, unlike my own conclusion which were drawn from real data. Not to mention, if something like this had been worked on, it would come from my own work, or at least a work that was provided for by your funding alone. No other agency has the money or know-how to pull this off. That _is_ why we are all working here, after all. Nowhere else gives researchers the freedom that we have here at Umbrella".

Wesker asked himself if William could be any more of a suck-up than he was being now, but for the sake of a professional image, he kept that thought to himself.

While her husband talked, Annette was busy handing out a booklet to every important individual at that table, as well as half a dozen copies of it to Penny so those could be taken to the heads of WU behind the one-way mirror. So the latter employee temporarily left the room with the pamphlets and then returned about two minutes later with her hands empty.

"We can either wait for the duration until you read through the whole report or you can go to the last page where the summary is", Mr. Birkin continued, still speaking to his own reflection, "That conclusion came from the sample that I received from the subject, and it confirms Mrs. Warren's point of view".

"How did _you_ get a sample?", Wesker looked at him from across the table while remaining on his feet.

"From her foster parents, of course", Birkin felt slightly confused as he answered what he felt was a silly question, "Didn't _you_ get one?".

The scientist with the shades looked at the mayor's wife next, his face tightening up in resentment. 

"Why, _Doctor_ Wesker, you never asked", Mrs. Warren sarcastically smiled at him and, from behind the seated woman, so did Penny.

"Sirs, even though the girl worked good as a publicity stunt, ensuring that my Michael easily wins another term, thus us blocking chief Irons' mayoral bid", Elena laughed to herself, "We all know how… um… overzealous… actually, no, _incompetent_ our chief is when it comes to public relations. So you'll all be glad to know that Michael will be continuing the good job he does for us. The approval ratings for Umbrella has risen as a result of his work, and 3% more households are shown to carry our items. But as far as this girl goes, gentlemen, and Wesker there, I'm convinced that all she is or ever will be is a teenager, nothing more. I'm convinced that the only potential for her in a laboratory will be as a researcher as, while her IQ wasn't near that of our esteemed William Birkin here, it was still high enough to merit that one day, there may be a future for her here if her odd personality traits are ironed out".

"You're all forgetting the true capability of this specimen", Wesker retorted as he sat down, casually opening the first page of Birkin's report since the booklet had been placed on the tabletop in front of him, "Warren keeps referring to her like this creature is merely another future scientist for Umbrella, but she's so much more. This is the definitive bio-weapon!".

His voice increased as he made the last part of his statement.

"Imagine a tyrant who looks just like a regular human being", the scientist continued as he ignored the open page that was just ahead of him, "She has the raw physical prowess of a tyrant, but with much higher intelligence. And what's more, her detection is next to _impossible_ because any examination of the body will merely make it appear to be human".

"Or maybe it appears to be human because it _is_!", Mrs. Warren countered.

"Albert, I'm afraid I must concur", William Birkin added in a softer tone, "I've seen the samples myself. What you have here on your hands is _not_ a tyrant". 

"I've seen it too", the older man with the shades pointed at his colleague with a left index finger, "Initially, a sample of her hair was placed under a small microscope. The nucleus was surrounded by mitochondria, which would explain her energy levels. I couldn't find cell plasma _anywhere_ in the sample. But half an hour later, we placed the piece of hair under our most advanced machinery, and all it appeared to be was human. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the ultimate chameleon".

"You took a sample against WU orders?", Elena pointed out as she then turned her attention to the mirror, totally uninterested in all the other facts that had just been mentioned, "That is yet another reason why I would _please_ ask that this man be ordered to stop with his insanity. His methods are wasteful and totally ineffective and even go so far as defying orders, sir. Surely the money that is so generously flowing in the direction of our research could be used more efficiently by spending it on studies that don't obsess about a regular teenager. I mean, come on!".

The mayor's wife raised her arms in mock frustration to make her point.

"I only got your permission to give Dr. Birkin here the sample from the suspect, sir, but here goes Wesker again just doing whatever he feels like, regardless of what you demanded", Elena finished, pretending to not see the silent look she was getting from the man she talked about, even while Penny was smirking while on her feet a few steps behind her, "I mean, how did he even get this sample, I ask you?".

Mrs. Warren turned her attention back towards Wesker as she spoke out the question for everyone in the room.

"I wasn't aware that this committee was so obsessed about crossing their T's and dotting their I's. Could that explain why no one has even heard a single thing that I've said?", the man in the shades was slowly becoming irritated, and showing it, "I had, shall we say, borrowed one of the girl's hair. It's not even a damn girl! It's a weapon that will give this company _the_ decisive advantage on the long run, and all you're worried about is where I got a piece of hair?! If you people want me to be able to answer any of these questions, I need this specimen in my lab, not fretting about who gets what sample. This defense mechanism of appearing human once the cell is removed from the host body is much more sophisticated than the one our current creatures are capable of where the body decomposes once the death gene is released".

"You 'borrowed' her hair? You stole, you mean", Elena Warren zeroed in on the parts that would help her substantiate what she wanted the senior partners to believe and nothing else.

"That _is_ slightly irrational, Albert", William added in a more objective manner, "We're all supposed to be here for the same reason, right? And that's to advance our research. The best way to do that is to follow protocol, not by going behind the senior partner's backs".

"Agreed", the distorted voice from behind the glass finally was heard, "As amusing as your little tirades are, Dr. Wesker, I'm afraid you _have_ wasted much precious resource on your tyrant projects. With the rarity of the subjects available, one person in one million who can be made into a tyrant is simply _not_ acceptable, either as a weapon or as profit. Finish gathering your date, because that project is terminated. You will be working with the progenitor T-virus experiments _outside_ the tyrant development instead". 

"The board here, it seems, are overly concerned with short-term shallow results and money!", Wesker slammed his open right hand on the surface of the table, giving Elena the exact reaction she wanted him to have, "I'm working towards a long-term ad…".

"ENOUGH!", three or four different warped voices exclaimed from behind the glass, quieting the scientist down.

"This is exactly what we have to put up with on a regular basis, sir", the mayor's wife commented, still addressing the mirror.

Wesker heard a chuckle following the woman's statement, so he sharply turned his face in that general direction in time to see that it was Penny who was smirking.

"Any refusal to accept these terms will result in removal from the ranks and withdrawal of personal funding", another voice went on from beyond the special glass, "So report an outline of your pitch in exactly one week. Dismissed".

The door to the conference room swung indoors from outside as two armed guards were pushing them open.

"This way please", one sentry pointed towards the elevators to take everyone off this floor and, ultimately, out of the building.

Sighing, Wesker stood up as he left Birkin's report behind on the table. He passed Annette and William first as the couple was moving out amid the suited employees.

He only noticed that Mrs. Warren was remained seated once he passed her chair and reached the doorway that Penny stood next to.

"Your other half doesn't seem to be the only one with a hard-on for my baby girl, now does he?", Elena grinned as all three scientists exited the conference room, prompting Wesker to turn his head back and visually comb both her and her smiling assistant.

"Don't fret about us. We'll take the next elevator. But thank you for your concern", the mayor's wife waved goodbye.

"Albert, don't worry about it", William gave him a light pat on the upper back, "We got plenty more work to do even today once we're out of this place".

"William's right", Annette added as the elevator door opened, "Important thing is that our funding wasn't cut. Since lord Spencer passed on, it's been possible that they would no longer fund us, you know that".

"I suppose there _are_ more important things to think about than pet projects", Wesker lied as he entered the waiting elevator with the couple and a handful of other individuals.

"In fact, I do believe I'll be working on those new proposals and plans today", he continued while facing the front of the elevator while the doors closed.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"What the fuck's all this?", Shakahnna heard herself saying as she was greeted with a surprise as soon as she walked past the main door to the police precinct.

Ahead of her, personal computers, printers, phones and fax machines lay on the floor or on desks, all of them unplugged, as officers and civilian employees were busy placing different-colored stickers on them. Dozens of cardboard boxes full of paperwork littered the first floor around the electronic equipment as well as the people there.

No one replied, either because she wasn't heard or because it was assumed that she was merely talking to herself. So with the purpose of finding out the reason for such disarray, the teenager headed upstairs, hoping to find either officer Chisholm or Donnelly, though preferably the former, among all the mess.

Reaching there, the girl smiled with a satisfied sigh as she spotted both men near their own work area, all their office equipment and documents in the same shape that the others were in downstairs.

"Did I miss something?", she greeted the pair as she approached them.

"It's the move, Shak", Chino replied, appearing surprised that she had to ask, "Remember? We're moving to the old art museum? Everyone at the end of the previous shift was told to unplug this stuff so it could be marked so it would then stay together when it came off the trucks. Your stuff is probably already unplugged, just make sure you take your papers and personal items and place them in an empty cardboard box with your name on it".

"Figures that the one night I'm at thou Warrens' instead of home, that this be's happened and I get all lost cause got no idea 'bout this morning", she stated as she remembered the move being casually mentioned by Wesker as well as Chino back when the trio had met the captain for the first time.

"If we do this, _then_ can we go to a 'lunch' break?", she added with a grin.

"Shak, it's 7:30 in the morning", Chino remarked, "Besides, the movers will be here around noontime, which means that once they take over responsibility, we're off for the rest of the day. We don't do anything until we report in tomorrow at the art museum".

"Half day off?", her grin became wider, "That be's even better than my next suggestion of going for breakfast now".

The redhead turned and headed towards her own work station, grabbing an empty cardboard box that was in a large pile before she reached her desk. She found out that, contrary to Chino's expectations, the secretary's equipment hadn't been unhooked or tagged yet, so she decided to take the plugs out of the wall sockets before placing her own items in the square container itself.

She was done with the personal computer and was working on the printer when the phone that lay on top of her desk rang. Curious, the teenager picked up the receiver and placed it next to her face.

"Hewwo", she greeted, guessing the caller was trying to get in touch with someone else.

The female voice on the other end of the receiver insisted on screeching at her for several seconds, refusing to give a name or even saying anything coherent, for that matter.

Shakahnna first thought that it might've been an emergency call that was mistakenly connected to her phone, so she tried to calm the caller down.

"Ma'am, can you tell me if this is an emergency, please?", she mentioned between the sobs that she heard, wracked with suspense in case a call had been patched to the wrong department.

It was only then that the teenager realized the voice of the caller as being none other than her step-sister.

"Joanne, what the fuck's wrong with you?", the redhead added, feeling worried, "Is something wrong? Did someone hurt you?".

The blonde girl on the other end of the phone babbled some more, still without making any lucid phrases.

"Is someone at the house?!", Shakahnna pressed on.

"N… No", Joanne finally mentioned, somewhat calming the younger girl down, "Mom and dad… Uuuhh… Mom and dad…".

The older teenager started crying again.

"Joanne, if you don't be calming down and telling me what happened, I'm gonna come over there now", the redhead promised, "So calm down and tell me what got you upset!".

"Mom and dad said that… that Penny…she…", the blonde stuttered.

"That Penny what? She be'd quiting, she's going senile, what?", Shakahnna added when her step-sister quieted down.

"That Penny's dead!", Joanne finally blurted out, "She died last night from a car accident!".

It was Shakahnna's turn to be silent as she didn't know what to say. Granted she never liked the older woman, but she also didn't wish her any harm.

"Is anyone there with you?", the redhead eventually thought to ask.

"Dad is. Mom had to go to work after they told me", Joanne sounded like she was becoming more tranquil, "I just can't _believe_ it".

"You want me to come home?", the secretary offered.

"I don't know. Dad said we'd have lunch later on today and stuff. Not that I can think of eating anything. Just…", her step-sister trailed off again, "I guess I wanted to let you know before you heard it from the news or something".

"Hey, what's up? Need a hand?", she heard a male voice from behind her.

Turning around, Shakahnna saw officer Chisholm nearing her area. The girl shook her head.

"You OK?", the young man asked, seeing that her facial expression had changed.

"I'm not sure", she told him while placing the left palm over the bottom half of the receiver, "I should probably go back to the mansion, though. You member Penny?".

"Yeah, that old bitch?", Chino replied.

"She's kinda dead. Joanne's very upset", the teenager continued.

"Oh, wow, for real? Damn, sorry about that", the officer took on a more serious tone, "How did _that_ happen?".

"Dunno. Joanne says it was a car crash. I have to get back there. Will you and Donnelly be OK?", Shakahnna went on.

"Yeah, of course, no problem", he told her, holding back the desire to state that she should stay there rather than go back just for that reason.

"You be coming over once you're done?", the redhead asked, hoping that she wasn't assuming too much about the young man having no plans that didn't involve her.

"Of course", he made her glad as he waved and headed back towards his own desk, leaving her alone to talk to Joanne again.

She knew it wasn't always going to be this easy to spend time with him, but the teenager was ready to take as much advantage of the situation as possible for now.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"In case you're wondering, no, I don't advise placing the target farther than eight meters", captain Wesker read the expression on Shakahnna's face and answered her question even before she could ask it, "Robert and Joe wouldn't be pleased to see bullet holes in the walls and ceilings".

"What about if we just putted the target on Donnelly's crotch, then?", the redhead smirked, "It's not like he ever gets to use it anyway".

"Shaaak…", Chino reprimanded from the firing aisle next to hers while she heard Chisholm's partner mumbling what she guessed would be an unflattering response under his breath, "We're not doing this tonight, people".

The teenager stuck her lower lip out as she walked in baby steps towards the youngest officer there and placed both her arms around his left elbow while snuggling her forehead on that shoulder. She didn't seem to have any problems in the fact that over a dozen other individuals were there with them, and at least two of them were staring in her direction. Speaking in a quiet voice so that no one else would hear the question, Shakahnna addressed the slightly older man.

"You be mad at me?", she inquired, finally raising her head so her eyes were locked with his.

"No, not at all", he replied, though he wasn't even sure himself, "Let's just finish this and get home, OK?".

"You're lying", the redhead followed through, "What be's the matter?".

"Shak, nothing, honest. Just not comfortable in a group environment, is all. It's why me and Eric aren't used to coming here. It's too damn crowded", Chino continued, "The sooner we spend all our rounds, sooner we can leave. Don't know why I agreed to come here anyway. The RPD range is much better".

"Then maybe next time we can go there", she told him, still not quite believing the reason he gave for being agitated, "Sure, let's just get finished, shall we? But if you wanna talk once we get home and not here, you know you can, right?".

"Absolutely", the officer gave what she knew for sure was a fake smile.

As on cue, Shakahnna returned to the aisle next to his and was about to place a pair of headphones around her ears before a more stern Wesker indicated to her that he didn't want her shutting the entire room out just yet.

"I think your friend there may want to be alone with you instead of merely being one in a group", the captain pointed out what he thought should've been obvious her.

"I don't get it", she turned around and momentarily saw Chino blasting away at the target ahead of him, "Why wouldn't he tell me that?".

She turned back towards the shaded superior officer when the rookie didn't appear to notice her.

"I hope he doesn't be imagining _me_ there", Shakahnna thought out loud.

"Well, you may wish to bring that up to him, even if he doesn't, and see if you can extract the information from him yourself", Wesker stated as he began loading a clip of regular bullets into his Desert Eagle.

"It also may interest you that I took the liberty of 'talking' to officer Whey yesterday", the captain casually said, making the teenager's mouth drop in astonishment, "Just happened to run into him by chance. So we had a friendly chat".

"Even _I_ can tell that's not true", Shakahnna pointed towards his chest.

"Regardless, officer Whey reminisced about what had really occurred between you, him and three of his friends", Wesker told her.

"Yeah, I bet he didn't mention about the fucking nightsticks", the redhead looked angry for the first time that the captain remembered.

"No, he did not, though him omitting some of what I'm sure are the less than pleasant details isn't a surprise", Wesker continued, making sure his weapon was always pointed towards the floor, "I was originally planning on giving you the entire overdone promise that if he ever bothered you again, then you should tell me about it and I'll sort it out officially or unofficially. But I just don't expect you'll have any trouble from that man again. He's more than slightly panicked and frightened all the time now".

"About what? Scared of _me_?", Shakahnna asked, "The second time around I didn't even break anything of theirs, except that ankle might've be'd broken, but I didn't even touch two of them, and it just be'd to get them away".

The Umbrella operative said nothing for a moment, only looking down at her through his dark glasses instead.

"You really _must_ give me your version of events one day. His had him and his followers retreating at the first sign of Chisholm's appearance", he finally continued, "But suffice it to say for now that all three individuals, Merton, Irving and Rook, had been reassigned, though I could not find where. Whey's been nervous as a deer caught in headlights since then because he hasn't heard a single word from them since then, or been able to get in contact with them by himself, even when he attempted to do so at their own residence".

"That be's the weird thing. Chief Irons told me that everybody there got reassigned, but it was only three out of four of them", Shakahnna commented, "I was more surprised than anything else when I saw him still there".

The captain chuckled, prompting her to raise her eyebrows in confusion.

"First off, Irons is a repulsive species of vermin, which unfortunately is yet to be recognized, and thus he can't be stepped on", Wesker kept smiling, "But I wouldn't pay much attention to anything that he has to say".

"A lot of people in the RPD don't seem to like him. But he's been nice enough to me. Plus he got me the job to begin with", the teenager went on.

"Yeah, I heard he has a thing for young girls", the older man replied, "I'll also be curious to see if your opinion of him changes on the long run, but that remains to be seen. What I _do_ know is that my dealings with him will thankfully decrease soon when I get my hands on a pet project I've been working on".

"What project's that?", the girl was completely oblivious to the increase in the number of officers who were firing all around her.

"I won't be able to partake in our Friday custom here next week due to having to fly to New York to interview several Special Tactic And Rescue Service officers to hire for the RPD", the captain informed her of his plans, "Once they're here, I'll be able to coordinate what _should_ be an increase in the department's usefulness and efficiency. Plus, as I said previously, less Irons for me".

"Wow. We're actually getting a STARS branch? I thought only places with lots of crime and stuff like terrorists needed them", Shakahnna questioned, "Is something bad gonna happen here?".

"Not unless by that you mean cops shooting themselves in the foot, no", Wesker reassured her with a proud smile, "But this precinct _seriously_ needs the help. Plus, I'll let _you_ alone imagine the increase in weaponry and hardware that it means for us".

"Flatheads? Flatheads for Shak?", the teenager smiled in her own turn.

"No flatheads", the Umbrella spy sternly countered, much to her disappointment, "But helicopters, assault rifles, the like".

"You don't love me", the girl pouted in a non-serious fashion.

"You're right. I'm not him", Wesker pointed towards Chino's direction, "And still no flatheads for you, or anyone else for that matter. They're simply not police issue".

"I'm hurted. And I thought we'd be'd friends", she pouted while lowering her head.

"Shak, _no one_ is allowed flatheads, except me, that is", the Umbrella operative continued, "And if you wish to have my kind of experience and contacts so you can get your hands on some, then you need many more years to go in this line of work".

"No, silly, I'm not huffing cause I'm not getting flatheads. I'm huffing cause you don't love me", she raised her head while addressing him with a smile.

The RPD captain stayed quiet, finding himself searching for a way to answer for the second time tonight.

"How long have we known each other, Shak?", he questioned, the tone of his voice revealing that he was treating the conversation without the fun that she was.

"Obviously not long enough. And you know, Weskie, you really do take life far, far too seriously", Shakahnna reached into her pocket and withdrew a small lollipop before handing it in his direction, "Here, have a sweetie. There's nothing that a cherry lollipop won't cure".

"Thanks", he accepted her offering, "Just remember to hold down the fort till I come back home in a week. But for now, may be better if you practice with your friend Chisholm there for a while. Besides, the Glock isn't _that_ much weaker than my piece here".

The older officer grinned out of the left side of his mouth.

"But you can at least take this, just for tonight", he bent his right knee before reaching for that ankle and withdrawing his back-up 9mm semi-automatic pistol, "Only make sure to not leave Kendo's with it".

"Thank you, Weskie", she gripped the handle of the firearm, "You mind if I ask Chino to show me how to load it and stuff?".

"Of course not. Just be careful", he finally got to withdraw his favorite handgun with his right hand while reaching for a pair of headphones with his left.

The captain heard her heading towards the rookie officer while he adjusted the headset around his ears and undid the safety for the weapon.

A few steps away, the redhead tapped Chino on the upper arm before getting his attention. The young man pointed his pistol towards the floor while he partially removed the headphones.

"I gotted something for you", The girl held a closed left fist between them while Wesker's weapon remained in her right one.

The young man looked down to see what she was holding before she opened her left fingers and revealed nothing there. But he didn't have the time to be surprised because she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

Shakahnna was unsure if he was still angry or, if so, then how much. She knew that her action would be received and answered based on the rookie's feelings as Chino had put his free hand on the outside of his constant companion's upper arm. Officer Chisholm then returned what the girl had given him while his lips briefly brushed over hers. The surprise on the teenager's face was obvious, but was quickly replaced with a happy blush. 

"We ok yeah?", came her shy question.

"Always, Shak". 

"Promise?", she still required reassurance.

"I promise".

This was one of the best nights ever. Life art grand, the redhead beamed inwardly. 

++++++++++++++++++++++

"I swear I'm going to use my Desert Eagle on the next person who recommends I go see the statue of liberty", Wesker thought out loud as he left the 45-minute long meeting with Special Tactics And Rescue Service commander Forsythe, the shiny wooden door being slowly closed behind him, "It's bad enough this damn thing itches like crazy. Last plan I have is to be standing in line with hundreds of tourists whose highlight is to have their picture taken while inside a stone broad".

Regardless of how uncomfortable his 3-piece suit was, however, the RPD captain was still very satisfied with how the conference went as he believed he had effectively made every point he wished, and all without the help of cue cards, either. The head commander, in turn, had promised to contact the Raccoon City PD of his decision after discussing the potential of expanding STARS services to that section of the country. But that was supposed to be based on yet another meeting with his peers on the subject of domestic terrorism. All in all, though, Wesker had either been given insinuations or been told flat out that chances are most likely that he would get his wish. So with that optimistic ending, the captain almost found that Forsythe's recommendation that he go see the statue of liberty could be something that he could live with. At least it would've been if it hadn't been the hundredth time he heard that suggestion ever since arriving in this city the previous day.

"Well, live and breathe, if it isn't Albert Wesker himself", the captain heard a male voice addressing him from behind as he was walking towards the exit sign and counting the minutes when he'd be able to have more relaxing clothes on.

He stopped walking and turned his head around, looking in the direction that the greeting had been called from. He didn't need long to recognize a large man with dark red hair and a beard who stood about fifteen steps away.

"Why, Barry, this _is_ a pleasant surprise", the RPD captain smiled before turning around and walking towards the other individual.

"I _knew_ you'd have to be the only person here to have sunglasses on while in here. All my years of meeting people, you're still the only one who follows that fashion trend", officer Barry Burton offered his right hand towards the captain as both men paced towards each other.

"How are you, Barry?", Wesker smiled as they shook hands.

"I'm great", Burton proclaimed, his voice revealing a positive outlook on life that he clearly felt, "Been weapons specialist here for a couple of years now. I never thought I'd see you in this building, though".

"Things change, don't they?", Wesker replied by placing both his hands in the suit pockets, "I'm in the police department over in Raccoon City now, even have my own command".

"Get out!", Burton exclaimed, "Don't tell me Raccoon City is thinking of expanding some of its guys into STARS and they sent you here to ask Forsythe for it?".

"That's exactly what's going on, and all the idea of yours truly, may I add", the RPD official let him know, "How about you? Still putting in dozens of hours of overtime here whether the brass pays you for it or not?".

"That would have to be not, Wesker", the weapons specialist went on as he reached into his back pocket, "Work is still work, of course, but I only stay here as long as _yours_ truly is being paid. I have something even more important than all this that keeps me occupied now".

"More important to Barry Burton than his work? That used to be sacrilege back in the old days, if I remember correctly".

"Oh, you do, you do", the man with the red hair confirmed, "But that was before this".

Burton showed him a black and white photograph of him in the company of a woman and two small girls.

"That's Moira and that's Polly", he pointed at each girl, "They've been an incredible change in both my and my wife's lives".

"My god", Wesker smiled as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, "This from the man who was used to tell me at _least_ twice a week, ever week, that he'd only be married to his job and to no one else".

"A lot changes over time, like you said", Burton smiled back while putting the picture back into his pocket, "And you're as much proof of that as me, Wesker. I never thought you'd go into the police force once your army days were over. But if you're here now, it may mean that we'll have ages to catch up. Forsythe is always eager to expand STARS, you know, so I can't imagine him turning down a request for our unit from any city. That'll mean that he'll be asking for volunteers first to go to Raccoon City. I really wouldn't have a problem joining you in that mid-western city, and I can probably think of several others here who are bored enough with New York and unattached enough to try another venue".

"We would love to have you guys. Our officers _badly_ need the expertise", Wesker pointed out.

"Hey, where're you heading just now? Would you like to come meet some of my friends here? They're all STARS, they'll all be eager to hear about a possible new assignment", Burton asked.

"I was merely heading back to my motel room to await the verdict", the captain replied, "And I'm very glad you did not tell me to go sight-seeing. You're the first person to not do so since yesterday".

"Oh, forget that", Burton brushed off what he himself viewed as a waste of time, "Would you like to come meet Chris and Rico?".

"You have to ask?", the captain grinned, "Lead the way".

++++++++++++++++++

"Immorality is just one temptation away for most people in this world. Civilization is only skin-deep!", a TV evangelist declared on several television screens that were lined up and facing the window of an electronics shop late at night.

The collective sound from those television sets was loud enough to have his words be heard from anyone who was on the mostly empty sidewalk that was illuminated by yellow streetlights just outside of the shop itself. 

A slender woman who seemed to be in her mid-20's took a look through the shop's window and caught a glimpse of the scenes that were shown as alleged proof for what the evangelist was talking about. Documentaries of war and general lawlessness was introduced along with the continuing lecture that the man's voice gave as a warning to all who are not following the religious path that he prescribed for his audience. Not appearing to take the evangelist's speech seriously, the woman simply chuckled and shook her head. 

Nevertheless, her smile quickly disappeared as she then nervously retained her hold on the shoulder strap that kept a leather purse fastened to the upper right side of her body and continued walking down the sidewalk as cars sped past her on the street. Looking at the wristwatch that was on her left arm, the lady sighed as she quickened her pace and tried to go faster, appearing anxious due to being outside and alone so late at night. 

She didn't notice a man in his late teens who was dressed in more ragged clothes and was quickly making his way towards her from several steps behind while she was now in front of a closed pet store. Breathing hard several times, the younger man readied himself before finally rushing forward and gripping the purse with both his hands as soon as he within an arm's reach of her. 

The woman only had time for a short yelp as both her own hands instinctively grabbed the purse also. Turning in the attacker's direction, she didn't even get a chance to see what he looked like before his forward rush roughly pushed her against the brick wall that belonged to the nearby closed shop. She only saw that he was running left into a nearby alleyway before her forehead came into contact with the tough stone and created a three-inch long gash just above her left eye. She gave a second yell due to the pain after she had already let go of the handbag against her wishes and heard the assailant running down the sidewalk with it.

She staggered a pair of steps away from the pet store wall as she cried out for the third time and grabbed her forehead, hoping that someone who heard her would call for help. Ironically, the only sound that responded to her plea was a repeat of the evangelist from the nearby electronics store who repeated "Civilization is only skin deep!" again.

Wailing in distress, the victimized woman aimlessly turned away from the wall, now facing the empty street. With her left hand still cradling her wounded head, she swayed one step backwards until her upper back met the brick wall again, though much gentler this time. The young lady pressed her right forearm against her abdomen as she began hunching over as if a new pain had begun in her stomach. Looking down towards the sidewalk, she then planted both her forearms over her midsection and bent down, moaning louder and louder.

The painful scenario lasted for about five seconds before the woman finally stopped moaning and suddenly stood back up to her full height as she looked up towards the night sky and stretched her arms horizontally to the ground. No one else was around to notice that her arms now appeared to be much longer and thicker than before. In addition, the lady grew in height as she continued screaming at no one in particular and a second pair of new arms began emerging just below her shoulders.

A few more seconds of shape-shifting passed before the woman stopped being anything that even resembled a human being. In her place, instead, now stood an almost nude creature that was easily over eight feet tall, with blood-red eyes, a long, dark ponytail that reached down to its shoulders and four gigantic arms that pulsated with muscle, each carrying a 3-fingered hand. An enraged growl emanated from the monster's mouth as it turned towards the alley where the purse-snatcher had run into. The creature thundered in that direction, its massive body being carried on two legs so powerful that they could've been mistaken for tree trunks. The two massive toes as well as the bottom of each foot scraped the surface of the sidewalk until the monster turned left, into the same dark alleyway the perpetrator had gone.

Once there, the monster stood at the entrance of the alley, its silhouette being surrounded by the relatively bright yellow light from the street behind it. It visually combed the entire area, seeing only the attacker from a short while ago as that individual was about a dozen steps away and squatted next to a group of garbage cans while he searched the contents of the purse. There was nothing else within the filthy area that was in between two large businesses except for full trash cans and dumpsters.

It took the purse-snatcher a few seconds to realize that something was blocking the majority of the light from the entrance of the alleyway, thus making it harder for him to see the contents of the purse. So wondering why his environment was even darker now than a short while ago, he finally looked up to see the reason for the obscurity. The young man's eyes bulged in shock as he gave a short scream and fell off his squatted position, landing on the concrete ground and dropping the purse by his feet.

It didn't take long for the monster to overtake the comparatively tiny human, rushing into the alley and kicking aside a trash can that was partially in its way before the thief had a chance to stand back up as he was still leaning backwards on the palm of his hands.

"Aaah! AAAAAAAH!", was all he managed to scream before the creature casually reached down and gripped his head with its powerful upper right hand.

The giant creature effortlessly hoisted the man up to a standing position as its tiny antagonist tried to desperately get out of its grip, without any success. The human reached up and grabbed its thick wrist with both his hands, attempting to pull away, a mixture of fear and pain causing him to gasp hysterically. Having him in a standing position, the four-armed monster lifted its upper right arm further towards the sky, thus causing the human's feet to lift several inches off the ground.

"NO! PLEASE! JUST TAKE IT! I DON'T…", he began to exclaim as he frantically kicked his dangling legs in the air, feeling the immense pressure on his head and having his face merely inches away from his pursuer's pure red eyes.

It was all he got to say because the monster squeezed its upper right hand further, effectively crushing the man's head between its three fingers with a wet, crunching sound. The purse-snatcher's headless corpse crashed back down on the trash-filled ground, gore and blood oozing out of the body's decapitated shoulders. The monster looked down at the carcass that was now lying next to its bare feet, then back at its right palm that was covered in blood, bone and brain matter that slowly dripped to the ground below also.

The four-armed creature began to shrink in size, its lower two arms retracting into its torso as its upper two arms shrank back to that of a human scale in length and width as its entire body took the shape of a human being. Rather than a woman, though, the monster's body shifted into that of an Asian man who was dressed in a ceremonial red outfit. Wiping his right palm on his clothes, he then ignored the headless body and only proceeded to retrieve the purse that lay on the ground.

"That's the price you pay for being so uncivilized", he grinned as he addressed the dead purse-snatcher's corpse before he took a hold of the purse.

Looking within the leather container itself, he realized that he couldn't see inside of it very well due to the lack of lighting in this area. So he simply held the top of the purse open and spoke up in a clearer tone than he had used to mock the dead body a few moments ago.

"Aumenti nell'aria", the dark-haired man said out loud carefully, paying close attention to every syllable.

Obeying his command, all the contents simultaneously levitated out of the purse and hovered peacefully several inches in front of his face. The man surveyed the two dozen runes that were made out of bone as well as the closed enchantment scroll and the powdered solution that rested within a sealed pouch. At first glance, each of the 26 items appeared fine, but he needed to make sure, as he knew better than anyone else that even a minor interference by a second party could decrease their effectiveness.

"Incandescenza", the man next ordered.

On cue, all the items glowed bright green among their otherwise dark surroundings. Their smooth, still unadulterated surface caused him to smile, as the attempted theft had not damaged their physical integrity at all. 

"Per il suo solo?", the mysterious man finally asked.

Nine of the two dozen bright runes shifted in appearance, turning from the regular bone structures they were to form legible letters of the alphabet. It only took an instant for them to spell the word SHAKAHNNA in capital letters, even as the other seventeen objects simply continued floating in the air and exhibiting their unnatural light.

Satisfied, the shape-shifting man maintained his right grip on the purse while waving his left hand in front of his face. The nine runes that were spelling out the name returned to their previous form before all the objects stopped glowing and simultaneously fell back inside their leather container. The man smiled at himself as he closed the top of the purse.

He had to be careful, as it was still not safe for him to be seen anywhere here while looking like his natural self. So he turned around and began walking out of the alleyway, casually leaving the decapitated corpse behind for whoever would find it when the sun rose later on. Finally exiting the alley, he placed the leather strap back over his right shoulder as the yellow illumination from the nearest streetlight greeted him. But by that time, he already appeared to be a woman who was merely out for a stroll late at night.

++++++++++++++++

"Joey, I be having a question", Shakahnna mentioned with a perplexed look as she arrived at officer Frost's desk, interrupting the young man's paperwork with a welcome distraction, "I found these initials when I was typing, says GTAF. Any idea what it means?".

"GTAF? No. Have no idea what that is. Where did you see that?", the officer replied.

"It's beened on a lot of prisoner files. And worse, I can't find out where they be'd transferred to", the teenager had to admit.

"Have no idea here, I'm afraid. You may wanna just ask someone else", Frost added.

"I did be'd asking Donnelly, who told me to fuck off, then Branagh and Chino, and they didn't know", the redhead recalled, "But it's Okies. I'm sure I'll find out sometime. And also, those CD's that your girlfriend lent me are be at my desk if she be's wanting them back, just let me know. By the looks of her, I never figured she'd be a metaller, but she's got good taste".

"Good taste or no, I'm really gonna start keeping you away from her. You're much too horrible an influence", Frost replied with a grin as he remained seated and looked up at her, "I can't believe she was willing to go get a tattoo and let you paint her face with lipstick".

"But the only times I've seened her is when you organize a get-together, so technically, tis _your_ fault", the redhead smiled back, "Besides, she looked cute with those red whiskers".

"Do you know how annoying it is to kiss someone who's _got whiskers_?! I'm feeling like I'm taking part in bestiality here", the officer countered.

"More information than I needed to know Joey. And, _I_ thought she looked cute", the teenager replied, "And speaking of cute, do you know when our friend Weskie is coming back from New York? That guy from Kendo's always calls me 'darlin' when Weskie's not there".

"Actually, he called me on my work phone yesterday and said he'd be here today, he just didn't know what time", Frost informed her.

"He called you?! He didn't be calling _me_!", she gave a mock pout, "That's it. He totally doesn't be getting that cupcake I got him. I couldn't write 'welcome back' on it, so it just says 'wb'".

"You got him a cupcake? I don't think he even eats that stuff. It probably tastes too good", Frost laughed at his own joke.

"Oh, but Weskie's be's too uptight. The guy walks around like he's got the fate of the entire modern world on his shoulders", she pointed out.

"Actually, I prefer to think of myself as being dedicated", both Frost and Shakahnna heard the captain walking up to his desk from behind the secretary.

"Dedicated? That just be's another polite way of saying you be up to something sinister", the redhead turned around to face him, "Who be's in trouble, by the way".

"Welcome back, man. How're you feeling?", Frost stood up from his desk to greet the older man.

"Not bad, just tired", Wesker shook his colleague's right hand, "I must've fallen asleep for a while, considering there are times when I don't remember what happened. But what is this about me being in trouble?".

"I'm not telling you", Shakahnna replied before she walked away from the two men, heading towards her own work station.

"You have to figure it out for yourself", she grinned as she addressed the Umbrella spy over her shoulder while distancing herself from him.

"Is there something I should know here, Joseph?", the captain questioned as he turned his attention to his fellow officer.

"I think she likes you", the younger man patted him on the back as he sat back down, motioning a few feet away, "Please pull up a chair, Wes".

"Oh, thank you, Joseph, but I should _really_ head home and get some rest", the older man remained on his feet, "Business in New York was _very_ productive, though, and I expect things to change for the better around here very soon. We'll be getting new STARS soldiers at the RPD, you know. And what do you mean she likes me?".

"Don't make plans for dates, Wes. She's literally half your age", Frost smirked as he kept his head arched upwards to look at him.

"How do you know my age?", the Umbrella spy's eyes widened from behind his glasses.

"Shak told me", the patrolman replied.

"And how does _she_ know?", Wesker inquired, looking in the direction that the secretary had left.

"Well, she looked up your file, of course", Frost scoffed as if the captain should've already known, "She just has the same beginner's zeal that you used to have when you first joined us".

The older man's mouth dropped open for a split second before he regained his usual composure.

"Joseph, as much fun as it would be to be conversing and catching up about the events of the last few days for you and me, I'm afraid I may just collapse if I don't get home and head to bed. So we'll make this up at another time when my eyelids aren't threatening to collapse before the hour's up", captain Wesker went on as he rubbed his own forehead, "But I came by here to give _you_ a summary of what to expect in the upcoming months before everyone else found out".

He took a step closer to the younger man's desk before he leaned on its surface with his left hand.

"Joseph, have you ever heard of STARS?", he questioned.

"No, can't say I have, boss. What's that?", the officer interlocked his own fingers in the back of his head while leaning back on his chair.

"It's the Special Tactics and Rescue Service, an elite group of cops who are located throughout the country and spread in many police departments. Their training and, I should emphasize, access to funding and weaponry, is above anything that local police is used to", the Umbrella mole explained, "Their arrival in Raccoon City later on this year will be keeping me busy. So I was wondering, Joseph, if you'd be interested in working at a special project that would save me some time and would also enable us to have more interaction at work".

"Uh… Well, Wes, I didn't think I was leaving car patrol for at least a couple of years", Frost released his hands from behind his head and leaned forward in his chair, "But hey, patrol will always be there, right?".

"Exactly", Wesker confirmed.

"So wadda you want me to do?", the younger man asked.

The RPD captain reached into one of his uniform pockets before withdrawing something and placing the object on the surface of Frost's desk. Upon seeing what was left for him there, Frost took notice of a silver-colored badge that was shaped like a miniature shield.

"Welcome to STARS, Joseph", Wesker stated, "I'll be back tomorrow to inform Irons that you're officially off the patrol list".

"Oh, wow", was all the patrolman blurted out.

"I'll also see miss Warren there as well as many others on this floor, but all that is for tomorrow since I only came here today to recruit you", the captain stood back up to his full height, "Yours truly is going home and not waking up for the next twelve hours".

"So see you tomorrow at this time, then?", Frost asked as he took a hold of his new badge.

"Count on it", Wesker patted him once on the upper back before turning away and marching towards the exit door.

----------------------------------

Once outside RPD headquarters, Wesker stopped still for a few seconds while on the sidewalk even though he was only a few steps away from his illegally parked personal vehicle. Several people walked by him, not minding that an RPD official was merely standing in the middle of their path.

Finally, the captain shook his head before he reached into his uniform and withdrew a cellphone. Walking towards his car, he pressed a button to automatically redial the last phone number he had called.

"Mr. Claymont, please?", he spoke into the phone after someone picked up on the other end.

After a few seconds, he was referred to a second person while he climbed into the driver's seat of his BMW.

"I have news", he stated while putting on his seatbelt, "I'm on the way. We'll discuss it when I see you in twenty".

++++++++++++++++++++

"So how do you be feeling?", Shakahnna smiled as she turned around in her chair and saw captain Wesker standing behind her, "I be glad you letted me know you came back. Joey told me you were exhausted yesterday when we seened you".

"Much better, thank you", the RPD captain smiled back as he answered honestly, "I've slept straight through from when I left here yesterday till just a couple of hours ago. I feel refreshed".

The teenager first realized that Wesker had a new shirt on, one that was different from his usual uniform as it had the initial STARS etched on its front. Her next reaction was to lower her face in a troubled look.

"What is it?", the Umbrella operative inquired.

The redhead raised her face towards his, narrowing her eyes while she maintained a neutral expression. She then sighed as she turned back around in the chair and reached into a compartment of her desk.

Turning towards the taller man yet again, Shakahnna presented a small closed cardboard box in her left hand.

"What…?", Wesker's tone revealed how he felt.

"I made you a cupcake for when you'd be coming back from New York", she stated, "It probably doesn't taste too good, though, but the icing's nice. I know because I ate most of it. And I couldn't spell 'welcome back' on it, so it just be's saying 'WB'. Chino and Donnelly were happy, though, because they gotted to eat all the previous attempts that didn't…".

The teenager laughed at the recollection before resuming what she wanted to say.

"…turn out quite right", she continued, "And Herman had a fit because the Warrens were having people over, and he had dinner to make for a dozen people, and everything was covered in chocolate cupcake mix. But as I said, the icing's nice. You should have that".

"Uh… I don't know what to say… Thank you", he took a hold of the cake container.

"Oh, you're welco…", she interrupted herself as she then pointed up at him with an accusing left index finger, "But you be'd mean!".

"Shak, I wasn't attempting to hurt your feelings. I was just very busy in New York with this entire STARS business. I ran into one of my old, old associates from my days in the military. And I was going on no sleep when I drove back here yesterday at this time. It was all I could do to inform Joseph of a change in his status before my bed was calling out to me".

"I'm not mad. Takes too much effort to be", she grinned at him, "But wait a minute. So Joey's a STARS now? No way! Oh, we have to throw him a party or something. But you're a big softie, Weskie, making Joey a STARS and all".

"His qualifications also had quite a bit to do with that, Shak", the older man replied.

"Oh, I don't be doubting that. But I still don't think that's why you be'd doing it", she answered, "But I won't tell, don't worry. Wouldn't wanna ruin your reputation".

"All I can say is that, not to rain on anyone's parade, but it really doesn't take an _exceptional_ person to be part of STARS. It merely requires an officer who's good at his job, and many here are just that – good", the captain explained, "The resources and money that such an agency brings to a city are as important as the STARS agents themselves".

"So does that mean that _I_ get a badge too?", the teenager's eyes widened.

"What?", the older man was confused for an instant, "But you're not even an officer yet. That's kind of a prerequisite of STARS, you know, to be an officer first".

"Oh, that be's a shame. I would like to play STARS", she looked disappointed, but not for long, "Can you be getting me a shirt, then?".

She followed the request with a gentle tug on his left sleeve as she continued looking up into his sunglasses.

"I _would_ give you one if I could, Shak", Wesker placed his hands into the pockets that were located on his uniform, "It'll be at least weeks before the STARS are settled down here, and even some more time after that before we get our hands on official gear".

"You can always give _your_ shirt", she quickly offered.

"My… Mine?".

"That would make me be happy", she whispered as she gave a smile while lowering her face and acting cutesy. 

"As soon as I come across a spare shirt, you'll have it. That's as good as you're gonna get, I'm afraid", he stood his ground.

"You wouldn't even give me the shirt off your back, Weskie?", she grinned back at him.

"Then what would _I_ wear?", the captain questioned.

"You can have _my_ shirt", Shakahnna suggested, working hard to suppress her desire to laugh at her own words, "Actually, wait, maybe that's not such a good idea. I mean, unless you wanna stand outside the ladies' room and hand it to me".

"I'm glad you see the figurative light there", the RPD captain withdrew his hands out of the pockets.

"Do we be friends, Weskie?", her voice had suddenly become as serious as possible, a sharp contrast to a moment ago.

"Well, yes, of course. But what made you ask that?", he was surprised.

"Cause you're very odd", she blurted back.

"Be that as it may", the spy adjusted his shades, "But these new plans for our agency will give me the same chance to have more interaction with you that it does with Joseph, if you wish it, that is".

"Of course I be'd wanting that", she didn't need time to consider his offer, "But you should've still called me from New York. I gotted worried".

"I'm sorry. I'll make the time if we're ever to be separated for extended periods of time in the future", he promised, "But that's _if_ the need ever arises, which it may not. For now, though, I'm planning on introducing a new, intensive physical training program. It's not just for the STARS members, but for everyone who's working here. I can think of no one better to help us train these students".

"You mean…", she pointed at herself as she couldn't believe what she heard, "Me?".

"Of course. I believe you can show my colleagues several new ways of handling hand combat", Wesker informed her.

"Like that time I kicked your ass and stole your shades?", she smiled back, "I never did get my hundred bucks from…".

The teenager stopped herself, realizing she might get officer Frost into trouble.

"From who?", the older man inquired as he brought his face closer to the seated secretary.

"No one", she shook her head, "So, about this training…?".

"You can have a STARS shirt next week if you keep out the part about the shades", captain Wesker let her know, prompting the redhead's mouth to drop open.

"I _knew_ you could get your hands on one!", she pointed at him with an accusing right index finger.


	13. Chapter 13 Reselling of a soul

April 30th 1997

"My annoyance with those people is beginning to be the feeling towards them by default", Wesker leaned back on his personal rotating chair, holding the Dictaphone a few inches away from his face with his left hand while his right arm supported the back of his head, "The new in vogue seems to be to thwart every project that I find myself working on. To begin with, there's Claymont, who, while trying to attain the position of vice-president, was very much interested in the long-term results that I'd be able to produce. But since attaining that position, his priority list has become severely irritating. I chalk it up to a loss of ambition on his part, as he no longer wants to move ahead, wishing to only preserve his current status".

He sighed for an instant before resuming as he then leaned forward on the chair, facing the desk.

"Unfortunately for me, that means he's nothing more than a corporate lackey now, and I can't count on his support at all with _any_ of the plans I have for the future. All the man cares about is the status quo and continuing his position as head bitch overseer of the Spencer Estate. And though, like everything else, it's not something that can't be adapted to, it takes away from my already precious time. This could not have come at a worse time due to Elena's constant attempts to have me shut down. Despite the push for the end of the tyrant project and the senior partner's insistence that it be terminated immediately, we have quite a considerable leeway due to my only filing developments with Umbrella being several steps behind what we're currently capable of. As of such, I'm able to add some more time to the clock, which I find myself constantly racing with".

The last thought made him stop as he felt himself becoming more irate despite his earlier vow to not indulge in non-productive actions such as losing his temper. Time was short as it was.

"That fucking slut, she's probably sleeping with most of the board of directors", he spat towards the Dictaphone, "Why else would they listen to someone who was so obviously expendable? It'd be much easier to find someone to replace her 'tasks', instead of integrating a new head scientist to follow Umbrella's strict moral code. Hell, half the people at Arkney don't even know what we're working on, and that is due to _me_ first and foremost. I might have been able to overlook this if her latest endeavors had not been to keep the female specimen away from me, but considering it is, she has to be dealt with, the very same way that her esteemed assistant was".

The White Umbrella associate turned the voice recorder off for an instant as he felt a smile creeping on his lips.

"Granted that disposing of that Warren bitch will be harder than it was with Penny, with her rank and all, but she's done for, I'll see to that", he turned the Dictaphone back on as he resumed his verbal notes, "I would genuinely find pleasure if there was some way to be sure that dear Elena read the actual autopsy reports that described her sidekick's physical state instead of the one that was manufactured by us after the body was cold. Either way, the lack of skin anywhere on her upper body would probably suggest that the impact from some steering wheel wasn't what killed that crone".

Wesker chuckled to himself even while not taking the time to cease recording.

"So even a braindead like Warren _should_ realize by now why that old wench was taken out of the picture and by who", he continued, placing the small machine closer to his face, "Granted one victory in a long line of frustrating impasses is nice, those mainly being that I'm still stuck with WU, Claymont still hasn't been on the receiving end of a hunter's talons and I'm still unable to get Warren and her entire household tied down in the incinerator room". 

"But I'm continuously not making headway when it comes to getting my hands on that female tyrant, as sometimes I get the distinct impression that she is aware of me with her references to monsters and arming up. She's teasing me. Especially when she's constantly talking to that idiot in a social context, wrestling on mats or visiting target ranges, and all I can do about it is to just WATCH!".

The scientist growled as he slammed the Dictaphone against the surface of the desk that was ahead of him, not caring whether he damaged it or not.

"This is by far the most vexing part of it, the fact that he could literally do anything with her, if he so chooses, but he's just FINE with them being close while I'm stuck on the outskirts, unable to have the access to her that he takes for granted. Hell, why else would she be making excuses to spend time with him by making him cupcakes, _cupcakes_, for crying out loud, except to use it as her way to torment me?".

Wesker finally calmed down, casually checking the status of his recording machine.

"I swear, must be the third one of these so far this year, it's annoying", he commented to himself as he checked to see how much of his previous speech had been recorded before the Dictaphone stopped working.

"But I digress", he realized that the gadget was still operational, except that it had stopped chronicling what he said once it was struck against the surface of the desk.

"My offers _are_ mounting from other places, on a happier note", he continued as he began recording his thoughts again, "And since I've been with WU for two decades, the other companies must realize that I know quite a lot when it comes to Umbrella's dark, dirty secrets. And for the right price and privileges, I just might consider spilling them. I never thought it'd come to this, and it still may not, but if the brass doesn't start doing a total 180 in regards to their handling of my projects, then I may just have to do what was inconceivable just a short time ago".

The scientist sighed in exasperation.

"Not that I'm looking forward to breaking rank with WU if the situation degrades to the point where I'm forced to that, as the consequences can and will be extremely dire", he continued talking into the machine, "The act of transporting all my documents and equipment from here to another area will be a chore, not to mention creating a new account balance with my budget. Well, that and the whole plan to destroy Umbrella could lead to the loss of a countless number of lives, but the latter is of small matter when compared to the red tape of changing employers".

It only occurred to Wesker then that saying all these things into his Dictaphone while inside the private office that had been provided by White Umbrella wasn't such a good idea.

"Of course, I'm not going to record my detailed plans here. What do you think I am, stupid?", he added, chuckling to himself as he shut the voice-recording machine off, "Either way, the time to make this ultimate decision is only weeks away. Stay tuned".

++++++++++++++++

"The more you steal, the more legal it is! Think about it, you rob a gas station, you gets a couple of years in prison. If you be'd robbing a bank, you'd acquire life in jail. However if you be'd stealing millions, like this C.E.O. guy here….", Shakahnna pointed to the article in the newspaper that they had been reading previously, "And all you get be's a slap on the wrist. How much did that prick take? 54 million from the company and they gave him half a mil fine? And ohhh, bet he was shitting himself over the 5-year probation time! Should've castrated him and confiscated all his estates to pay for the people who he fucked over. Instead he be'd basically getting away with it".

"Well white collar crime _is_ the only type where the perpetrator actually weighs up the pros and cons before committing the crime, so the death penalty would actually provide a deterrent. Just a shame that it won't happen", Chino added.

"Yeah, cause they be the people funding the presidential election campaign along with every other politician out there. Can't believe people actually think those big companies be handing over billions to incumbents and challengers alike and don't expect laws to be passed in their favor. And no one says a thing. Makes me be angry", the redhead growled to herself.

"Aww, no need to be unhappy, Shak", the young cop placed both arms around her shoulders, allowing her to snuggle her head into his chest, "We got a whole weekend to ourselves. What else matters for now?".

Stephen smiled, cuddling the girl as close as she could be.

"Where be's Donnelly anyways? I thought it be'd rather quiet", the teenager mentioned while her face was half-buried in his shirt.

"Oh, he had a date with some dentistry student or something. I think her name was Jen. She's a bit odd actually, has a pet spider and dresses in purple allot, not Donnelly's usual type, but she'd been at him for months, so he finally gave in".

"Someone be'd pestering Donnelly? Am sure that is just what he telled you", the younger redhead grinned, "He's actually driven to his parents place or sitting at home polishing his shoes".

"Actually, he and his family don't talk. At all. They didn't want him to be a cop and when he did, they always fought so bad that they haven't spoken properly in years. Once every now and again they call or he calls them, but it's all 'how are you?', 'fine, how's everyone there?', 'fine', 'OK speak to you later', 'OK bye' and that's it for another six months. He pretty much always spends like Christmas and holidays like that over with my family. My dad just thinks of him as the third son anyway".

"That why he always be's so angry cause his family? Not cause of yours, obviously", Shakahnna thought out loud as she separated her face from him to spoke in a clearer tone. 

"Nah, I think Donnelly's always been pretty irritated, but that certainly doesn't help", Chino replied.

As he had finished speaking, Shak bit down softly on the right side of her lower lip.

"Speaking of families… Specifically yours… How did I be doing? I know you said I be'd done fine but what did they say earlier on the phone?".

She wasn't sure if it was alright for her to ask the details of a private conversation between him and his mother, but she had to guess that he would eventually mention any problems he had with her request. And since he hadn't, she had his nonverbal permission to be inquisitive.

"Actually, my mom wanted to invite us both around for dinner again despite my dad's insistence that he makes dessert. You really made an impression on her. My dad was saying about how you are a bit rough around the edges and he wishes I 'could have pulled the other Warren girl' I believe were his exact words, but my mom was totally chewing his ear off about it, saying how nice you were and various other things. And you know my little brother? He told my dad that when he grew up he was going to be just like you. So that kinda helped rattle dad up a bit as well since he's wondering if that has any gay connotations to it".

"Yeah, I didn't think teaching pressure points to the five-year old Chisholm would go down well with the man of the house", the teenager laughed, "He be'd an ickle cutie though, when he said I was glowing. He's just an ickle Chino really. I'm glad your mom and brother approve at least. Takes a weight of my mind. I thought they were gonna hate me". 

"As far as things go, they are pretty laid back. My dad just thinks I should be with a cheerleader who needs me to look after her".

"Nu uh, you should be with me, so I can look after you!", Shakahnna nodded at him while smiling, "Look after chino. Look after Chino for me!",

The redhead was in a playful mood and showing it.

"You know, Shak, sometimes I wonder if you're real", his voice wasn't quite serious, but not quite joking either as he ran two fingers down the side of her face.

"Maybe I'm not, am quite open to the possibility that I be nothing more than a figment of this little town's crazy delusions", she admitted.

"Either way, I can't tell you how glad I am that I got you here with me", the reward for his comment was that he got a huge smile that lit up on the teenager's face. 

But her smile soon faltered as her brow creased. 

"Something wrong?", he noticed the change in her facial expression right away.

"Families. The lackage of my biological one. I keep wanting to ask if the RPD finded anything".

At the mention of the girl's family, Chino instinctively squeezed her left shoulder, which was a small gesture that registered to be significant enough to get a sad smile from her. 

"It's well maybe I can't member them cause they be'd horrible or something really bad happened. And how many people would love to be in this situation? Get completely rid of their family and get a new rich and powerful one? But whatever they had done, I rather just know they be'd ok. Sorry".

"You know, if anything comes up, you'll be one of the first people to know, if not _the_ first, that is", the young man reassured her, "And who knows? Maybe they're living someplace else too, and maybe they don't know who they are either".

"I hope so", she sighed as she rubbed her face, not really believing what she was hearing, regardless of her wish to do so.

"Would it help you feel better if I played the guitar a bit?", he offered.

"Will you sing too?", the redhead replied, looking hopeful.

"If that will make you happy"

"Uhuh", Shakahnna answered with a smile as she repeatedly nodded her head, "The louder you be, the better".

--------------------------------------

This place is utterly beautiful! I can't believe it's not overflowing with people, we're so lucky to be able to be here, Shakahnna thought while soaking in the beach that lay before her. There were a few sporadic couples or families here and there, but for the most part it was sea and sand as far as the eye could see. This place would be perfect for the summer barbecue that the R.P.D. was having later on, but I wonder how come it's so empty, though, she continued to ponder. Maybe it's just because the time of the week, but it's the weekend… Odd. 

"Oh my god, those are amazing! I don't think I've ever seen anything like it", she said out loud as her jaw dropped while bubbles rose from the ocean. 

As the waves slipped onto the sand, an assemblage of bubbles spiraled upwards in an intoxicating dance, each one a perfect spherical rainbow. The girl couldn't believe what had just presented itself. Not being able to hold herself back, Shakahnna went closer in an attempt to touch the glowing spectacle. As her extended finger approached it, the ball uncurled to reveal a floating rainbow, which in turn began to circle round and round like a playful butterfly. 

"Aren't you gorgeous!", the teenager cooed at the floating miracle. 

The words had barely dissipated into the air when harsh noises began to take the place of the gentle swishing of the ocean. A tidal wave that was at least a hundred feet above her own height appeared almost from thin air. Not even having the time to catch her breath, the young women turned on her heel and began to pump the muscles of her legs in a desperate attempt to outrun the wave which was several yards behind her but catching up fast, threatening to swallow the beach whole.

"Can't! Gotta keep…", Shakahnna puffed, not being able to keep up the pace, desperately cupping her head as the tidal wave was nearly upon her. 

But nothing came. 

Surprised at the lack of a loud and heavy crash of water on her head, the teenager stopped in place before turning around to investigate. The wave that was about to crush her underneath several tons of water was gone, having disappeared into the same air that it mysteriously appeared from. But the beach was also no longer a happy family place, but almost like another world. Lifting her dry head, she saw that the scene was so different that a gasp escaped from the redhead's lips. 

The crystalline blue water was now the color of thick, black tar. There were no longer any waves as the viscous substance was too heavy to move of its own accord. On the horizon where the sea met with the plum infusion of the sky, a blood-red sun cascaded light over the worst feature, which was the sand. That, in turn, was no longer made up of tiny yellow granules, but instead consisted of millions of bone fragments.

The few people that she had seen there a short time ago were also no longer alive. Instead, they were being lifelessly held in place as their bodies remained in a kneeling position on the beach itself. A metal spike had entered their mouth and exited out of their shoulder or upper back before planting itself into the ground behind them, thus keeping them immobile in that mocking simulation of people who are praying.

But beyond the score of bodies that were in that macabre kneeling position, Shakahnna caught a glimpse of the only other human being as a man who appeared to be older than her looked around his environment, a look of horror on his face. It didn't take that man long to turn away from the impaled bodies, and thus her, before he began to flee. The teenager tilted her head back and laughed, knowing there was no way that someone could escape this place. Placing the right palm forward by extending that arm, a beam of light emerged out of nowhere as it floated a few inches above her head. Following her mental command, the beam shot through the air, flying past the knelt cadavers, exhibiting the same speed of an arrow that flew out of a bow.

Despite her target's best efforts to zigzag as he ran in an attempt to get out of the way, the projectile still found its mark by tracking the man down and burying itself into the left side of his lower back. The man's face looked up at the purple sky as he yelled out in pain and fell on his stomach, his face and arms coming into contact with the spiky bones that made up the ground. Once he was horizontally on the beach itself, the beam of light disappeared, and left no marks on his clothes at the point of impact. But any implication that it hadn't harmed the man was proven false because a pool of red began forming underneath the shirt material that covered his torso. 

The man tried to stand back up, but he only got as far as his knees before the pain from the left side of his stomach forced him to scream out in agony. But one yell was all he had time for because he then saw Shakahnna's form standing in front of him as she remained on her feet just away from his arm's reach and looked down into his eyes. Overwhelmed by pain, the man opened his mouth to scream again, but the redhead wasn't in a sympathetic state of mind as she casually summoned a second beam of light to her right hand. 

The teenager took a hold of the blade that was made out of pure energy and swung it downwards in a smooth semi-circle, forcing the tip of the beam to go through the man's open mouth. She then aggressively pushed the weapon further in, making it go through his spine until it finally emerged out of his upper back. That broke the man's neck and caused his head to loll from side to side before his body fell backwards and was propped up on the now-solidified beam that was currently made out of metal. So he was a relic like all the rest of the corpses here.

A thin layer of sweat burned Shakahnna's eyes as she struggled to wake up. Looking out of the window while sitting up on Chino's couch, she could see that sunrise was not far away, but the young woman was so spooked that it was hard to stop shaking. It was so quiet and lonely, and much too early to wake up Chino on her own. What she had just seen herself doing, along with the look in her victim's eyes, created a tight knot in her stomach, prompting her to decide that perhaps just the presence of another human being would help take the current sense of dread away. 

So standing up on the floor a little too quickly, she felt dizzy before she shook the feeling off and then tip-toed into the bedroom where Chino lay sleeping. 

Once she snuck in there, she stood next to the bed and watched him sleep for a few minutes, knowing that there was just something about the way he slept. The young man looked like an angel or something as an adorable lock of hair was in front of his closed eyes. The image was one of pure tranquility since the small hitch in his chest just helped make her mind up. 

The teenager knew she had to move softly to avoid waking him up, so taking her time, she moved the sheet that covered him aside and placed her own weight on the bed slowly until she was lying next to him. Moving Chino's arm, she snuggled her head against his back and then moved his limp arm so it was around her waist. He might've murmured in his sleep, but Shakahnna took it to mean that the cop would be alright upon waking tomorrow with a surprise there with him.

+++++++++++++++++++++

"Can you believe they charged us $5 a person to attend this barbecue? What kind of an employer does that?", Joseph Frost scoffed as he helped himself to a plastic plate as he was in the park down the street from RPD headquarters.

"Oh, stop whining. We're here to celebrate your promotions to STARS, after all", Wesker rebuked him, "That means an extra $12 in your paycheck every week, before taxes, of course. So even after you pay for this meal, that's your ticket to make sure you never have to ride the cable car again since you'll now be able to afford a Ferrari of your own".

"If you be so worried about him having a car, Weskie, you just be giving him yours", Shakahnna popped her head in between both men as she addressed the captain.

"Only after this department lets me use one of the new helicopters for my own personal use", the Umbrella spy informed her.

"Where's your friends, Shak?", Frost looked around, not spotting either officers Chisholm or Donnelly around the food table that was set on the grass.

"I'm afraid you're stucked with me alone for today cause Chino be's calming Donnelly down", she let him know.

"Why? What's wrong with Eric?", Frost looked back in the general direction of the police precinct.

"Why do you immediately assume that _I_ be knowing what's wrong with him?", the redhead countered.

All both men had to do was look back at her, neither one of them saying a word.

"OK, OK, so maybe we be's fighting over the remote cause I wanted to watch cartoons and he be's all adamant and stuff about watching some news show about stuff that's happening on the whole other side of the world and couldn't be possibly effecting him in any positive way. And maybe I be's a bit rough with him, and that made him wanna take out his gun and remove me from society", she soon admitted, "But this is all totally be's speculation, nothing that I know for sure. Your guess as to what happened back there be's as good as mine". 

"You're guessing, I'm sure", the younger officer went on as he took a hold of one hot dog and one burger before reaching for the ketchup dispenser.

"That's Enrico Marini right there, Joseph", Wesker pointed away from the small group he was in, aiming his right index finger at a man who was dressed in civilian clothes several yards away, "You wish to speak to him alone or would you like me to do the honors and introduce you Bravos to each other?".

"No, that's cool. I'll see if he's as obsessive compulsive as you", the patrolman grinned.

"You better hope so", the Umbrella spy smirked before Frost made his way towards captain Marini while biting the hot dog in half.

"So fighting over cartoons, was it?", Wesker turned his attention back towards the teenager once his colleague had left.

"If you don't be insistent on having fun, then what be's really the point of being here at all, Weskie?", the secretary asked him, "Once you be dead, whether people member you or not, your world ceases to exist. So never enjoying anything doesn't make no sense when your time here is so precious."

"You seem to have this ability to not let things get to you. Sometimes I wonder if I got cheated because I don't seem to possess this natural capability", the older man thought out loud.

"What be's there to get to me? I have the perfect life", Shakahnna had to admit, "But even if something does get all wronged. Gotta ask yourself if you'll member the event in ten years time, even if it won't upsetted you as much. If you won't, then it's not worth stressing over now. All stressing does is shorten your life spannow anyways, and again, once your time be's over, that's really it. So why worry about stuff that you won't even member in a decade?".

"That's a good point. You should think of giving lectures on Living Life 101. I believe most people could use that course", the Umbrella spy replied as he casually surveyed the food that was available.

"Besides, I think you _do_ be's having the same love of life as me", the teenager went on, copying his actions, "You may not squeal with delight at the site of nature, but you protect life. And if something is worth protecting, it must be sacred. You love life in your own way".

"I'm not sure what I call what I have, but thank you for the generous opinion of me", he grinned without looking directly at her.

"It's merely the truth. I don't be exaggerating when it comes to describing people", the redhead took a hold of a plastic cup, "Look at this here - it's a beautiful day, we can get some fresh air in our lungs and we're going to have a picnic too with people we like! That be's fun, no?"

"This is just an official function to introduce the STARS members to the rest of the RPD, though. It wasn't meant to be fun or anything else", Wesker countered.

"The only problem is that you take life too seriously, Weskie, and thus, we be going to make you haved some fun. So just this once you're going to get your clothes dirty and play in the mud", the girl suggested.

"Not today, or even in this lifetime, I'm afraid", the older man shook his head as he looked back in her direction.

"Pleeaase?", Shakahnna uttered before her mouth opened in excitement and she pointed at an area behind him, "LOOKIE!! Look it be's a squirrel! If I can catch it, maybe we can take it and keep it in a cage at the RPD, and we'll all take turns feeding it while we're at work".

"I don't think you'll be able to catch it, Shak", the captain turned partly around to look in the direction she was pointing it, finally seeing the gray rodent by one of the many bushes in the middle of the park. 

"But if I do, can we take it to work and keep it there?", she enthusiastically put her cup down on the table.

"Sure, just be careful to not be bit. Not unless you wish to get a tetanus shot before the day's over", he advised.

"It's pretty easy to not worry about that when you heal…", Shakahnna interrupted herself while the older man was listening to her, "…faster than normal".

In an excited burst of energy, the teenager bolted in the direction of the squirrel, leaving the RPD captain among his own colleagues. After visually following her trail for a few seconds, Wesker shook his head as he reached for the same pile of hot dogs that Frost had helped himself to a short while ago. Grabbing one hot dog bun in each hand, he proceeded to walk in officer's Frost's direction as he saw the younger man socializing with several other colleagues.

He had already finished eating the first hot dog when he reached his younger associate, recognizing three of the men that Frost was talking to along with a fourth man who was unknown to the captain as of now.

"Wes! Glad you're here", officer Frost addressed him as he neared the group, "Hey, where'd Shak go?".

"She's off on the horizon somewhere, chasing squirrels, I believe", he informed everyone there.

"Wesker, this here is Kenneth Sullivan", officer Barry Burton pointed towards the one person in the group that the Umbrella spy did not recognize, "He'll be the field scout in Bravo team".

"Hi, captain", officer Sullivan greeted him, recognizing his rank from Wesker's uniform as both men shook hands.

"And you already know Enrico and Chris, of course", Burton continued.

"Of course. I'm glad you all made it to this get-together", Wesker addressed all four men who were with Frost, "You think you'll be able to get along with Joseph here? He promises to control his temper so as to not get kicked out of STARS the same way that he was discharged from the Navy".

"Say what??", officer Frost countered, "I finished the Navy with an honorable discharge, dude".

"You don't need to lie here, Joseph, you can tell them what you told me about your past and your, um, secret bad habit", the Umbrella spy grinned, finally making the younger man realize that he wasn't being serious.

"Oh yeah, the thing with furry animals, again?", Chris Redfield placed a casual hand on Frost's shoulder, "Don't worry, Joe, it means that you and I now have _two_ things in common".

"It _is_ good to be here", Marini added with a more serious tone, addressing captain Wesker, "Although, sir, it's awfully quiet and not the kind of area one would usually expect to require skilled soldiers".

"Actually, I think there's a need for most departments to have some kind of STARS branch", Wesker responded, "There should always be some kind of back-up to the police department of any sizable town or city in case the worst happens".

His answer made him feel a bit more somber, as he knew the reason for the STARS teams being in Raccoon City was to assist the RPD in case an accidental outbreak occurred due to Umbrella's experiments. But the fact that they didn't know the actual purpose of being here, and hopefully never would due to a total lack of accidents on Umbrella's part, didn't make hiding the truth from them any easier.

"This won't be a typical place, either, gentlemen", Wesker added, "We'll expect you to hand down your expertise to some of our regular RPD members, and training will be continuous".

"Of course. We've all been waiting for the chance to do this", Barry patted Sullivan on the back as he seemed to be addressing the group as a whole, "We already know where we're settled down, so once this is over, it's back to business".

An outside voice interrupted the chat that the six officers were having, prompting Wesker to turn his attention behind him.

"Captain Wesker! You're wanted back at base. Urgent phone call for you", Eric Donnelly informed him from several steps away.

The Umbrella agent nodded his head towards the messenger as he spotted the younger man in the company of his field partner and Wesker guessed that officer Chisholm was already looking for the red-haired secretary who had bolted off earlier.

"I better take this", he informed the STARS group as he turned his attention back towards them, "I'll be back as soon as I can".

"No problem, Wes, we'll be here", Frost promised with a smile, already appearing to enjoy the company of his new colleagues.

"See you soon", Redfield offered him a right hand before Wesker gripped it.

Turning away from the general direction of the noise, the RPD captain made his way across the street before heading towards the police precinct. He didn't realize that he was shaking his head several times as if trying to clear mist away from his mind. But he ultimately stopped as he held on to the side of his head with his left hand while approaching the front door to police headquarters.

But once inside the RPD lobby, he felt like a whole new man.

-------------------------------------

"Hello, Mr. Mayor, I was told that you were on hold for me", Wesker picked up the receiver and spoke into it as he settled down behind his desk while the door to his office was closed.

"How's the wife and kid?", the Umbrella spy asked before Michael Warren could utter a word.

He waited an instant before continuing.

"Well…", was all the mayor got to say on the other end.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter how they're doing because I don't care", Wesker interrupted him, "What the hell do you want?".

"Well, captain, I'm afraid I've been going over the figures for this city's finances, and I just can't approve your demand for the STARS team", Warren's voice stuttered a couple of times, "And this isn't my doing, captain. You know the city's been in a financial crunch this year. And my wife told me to get rid of this police unit since we just can't afford it right now, especially when they're not really needed".

"Yes, they are required, you moron, you're just not in a position to know anything about it", the captain barked back into the phone, "And as for that dumb bitch of a wife of yours, tell her to do her own fucking dirty work".

"Captain, this isn't my doing", the mayor countered, "You have two helicopters, assault weapons, things that are never going to be used in this city. This city's already millions in the red and we can't be wasting our resources on such personal toys for you".

"PERSONAL TOYS?! FOR ME?!", the police officer lost whatever hold he might've had on his temper, "How the hell am I supposed to do my job when you people are taking away all the things that I need?!".

"What job requires such expensive equipment and weaponry, captain? You need helicopter gunships to take on pickpockets now?", Warren continued, "The decision has been made".

The Umbrella spy's teeth gritted together. He wanted more than anything else to describe in detail how his employer wanted the STARS members to go up against the monsters that were created in labs for the purpose of retrieving combat data on those creatures. That would surely shut the mayor up. But of course he couldn't tell the politician any of this and had to merely bite his tongue instead.

"You're extraordinarily confident over the phone", he finally blurted out in a calmer fashion, "Perhaps I should come over there and pay you a visit".

"You can do whatever you want, but that's still not going to make this order to get rid of STARS go away from those above me, and you know who they are better than I do", the mayor answered, "This is all from Elena's side of the street. You have an argument with it, you take it up with her and her bosses. You know, the ones who gave her the memo to give to me with that red and white umbrella logo at the bottom? Does that mean anything to you, _captain_?".

Wesker did not wish to waste any more time conversing about what he already knew to be the inevitable. So he angrily slapped the receiver down and exhaled loudly.

He couldn't lose STARS, as it'd be impossible to get any kind of useful combat data out of the tyrant that he had created. Those idiots expected him to shut down something that was perfection, to just turn it off like it was nothing more than a regular zombie. To add insult to injury, they wanted specimens kept even of the zombies as well as information on how these creatures behaved in combat situations, all without giving him the resources he needed to get the job done.

This was the straw that broke the camel's back. Wesker knew he had to implement his plan of last resort starting today. It was time to sell his soul to a new organization.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Now that I've got it for you, can you at least tell me what you're gonna use it for so I can come up with the best possible alibi in case you make the news?", officer Frost held the 3.5-inch disk between his left thumb and index finger.

Looking down at the older man as he remained seated on the chair at his work station, Shakahnna stayed on her feet as she reached for the disk itself, taking it into her own hand.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Frost", she told him, "But since you be knowing my deep, dark secret that I actually don't be minding Donnelly, I suppose I can tell you, assuming you be not the type to take part in gossip".

"Spill it", the young officer crossed his arms in front of his chest, "I've heard so much about you from both Eric and Stephen so far, I'd love to hear more, but this time from your mouth".

"You've heard a _lot_ about me? Nothing good, I hope", she asked.

"Don't worry. So go on", Frost encouraged.

"I kinda have this feeling that our mayor and his wife perhaps aren't as pure as the driven snow", the teenager explained as she placed the disk into a pocket, "And Elena currently thinks she e's able to trust her laptop, thus putted everything on it. However, this isn't totally true because this ickle disk here will let me get past whatever passwords she's got, whether it be's on the hard drive or email or whatever, to find out what she's up to".

"Are you sure you wanna be risking your stay at that big mansion by snooping around her stuff?", the young man pointed out.

"There's something not right about that place, Joe. I've hearded them talking when they don't think I be there, and can't discern what exactly but get feelings of wrongness", she told him, "Besides, I'm too good of a photo op for them to do anything severe. If worst happens, it's just a matter of shacking up with Chino seven days a week instead of six. So the next time 'mother' isn't at the mansion, I plan to get my hands on whatever she be's hiding".

"Just don't get caught, OK? Besides, what could the Warrens be hiding? Something stupid like they had to bribe someone to get high scores for your step-sister's college entrance exams?", Frost suggested.

"I do appreciate you getting this for me", she thanked him, "But I know there's something off at that place, and I won't be able to relax till I be finded for sure what it is".

"A piece of advice, if they catch you and anyone calls the police, let me, Chisholm, Donnelly or Wes know and we'll talk to whoever answers that call and make sure to distort the report so you're not facing any charges", he smirked.

"Ooh, that's so sweeeet of you to offer!", she beamed a smile in his direction, "But I'm sure it won't come to that. What's the worst that could happen when I deal with those people?".

"Where _are_ Donnelly and Chisholm today, anyway?", Frost asked as he partly turned to look at the surface of his desk, "I thought there were working with my schedule this entire month, but they're not here".

"Yeah, that be's the odd thing, because they _were_, but there was a problem or oddity or something", she told him, "I'll find out later on tonight when Chino comes in to see why his schedule changed and for how long it'll be like this. So can I borrow a piece of paper to leave him a note since I have to leave here for now?".

"Oh, of course", the officer handed her a sheet of blank paper and a blue pen.

"Thankies for getting this", she took a hold of the paper and pen, "And say thankies to, Vickers, was it? Brad Vickers?".

"I'll let Brad know", he gave her a thumb's up before he returned to work while she left his work station to head for Chino's.

The teenager knew that officer Chisholm wouldn't be there, but she wanted to leave him a message about their plans for the rest of the day. Upon reaching the empty desk, she sat down on his chair and began scribbling down what she wanted the young man to know.

Hey Sunshine –

Just to let you know, I won't be long. I'll be going back to the mansion to pick up my allowance and I'll bring dinner for you and whoever's here when I come back to meet you before the end of your shift. I don't imagine staying at the mansion for very long.

Love, Shak.

.

She left the note on his desk, partly underneath the phone and proceeded to continue with the rest of her shift, making a mental note to go see Joanne when her workday ended and before she goes back to the RPD.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Shakahnna thought it was a nice night to be out, but still felt that it was probably a mistake to walk from the mansion to RPD headquarters as she knew her feet would be aching once she reached her destination and could sit down. Right now, she only had about half a mile more to go before being at her employer's front door. So she decided to not waste any more of her time wondering how much time and energy she could've saved if she had decided to take the cable car once leaving her adoptive parents' home, even if it did only arrive once every hour after sunset.

But besides how weary she felt, the teenager also couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed, despite not seeing anyone the many times she turned around and expected to find someone behind her. So it ultimately didn't surprise her when she saw a late-model BMW drive up next to the sidewalk as she was crossing a small, one-way street. The vehicle was placed in a parked position before the front driver's side door opened and a familiar figure emerged from it, leaving that door open as he approached her.

"Weskie?", she asked, standing in place in the middle of the deserted street as the yellow lights surrounded her and the RPD captain who came closer, "Were you following me?".

She smiled as she asked him the question, motioning to him that she wasn't being serious.

"No, of course not, miss Warren", the older man touched the outer rim of his sunglasses as he came to within a few steps of her, "I'm afraid you may be getting paranoid here. Next thing, you'll be accusing me of controlling legions of the undead".

"What be you doing here?", she asked, taking a pair of steps towards him by instinct.

"I was on my way to work, but I noticed you walking towards the same direction I was heading", he explained, "I could give you a ride to work, assuming you want it. I know it's not too far from here, but still better than walking the rest of the way, no?".

"Uh huh, of course", the secretary replied, "So wanna head?".

"Yes, but first, I was also planning to bring you a surprise when I saw you at base tonight, miss Warren", he stood in place as he placed both hands within his uniform pockets, "If you'd like, I'd rather give it to you now".

"Ooooh! A surprise? Sure, I could take it now", she beamed a smile, "Me's likes surprises".

"Then you need to close your eyes and hold your hands out", he instructed, "And I'll come right back".

"OK, but there's only two people I be trusting enough to do this for, just so you know", she kept smiling as she complied, "But you are awfully playful tonight, which be's nice. I hope I at least helped maked it happen for you".

"Oh, you did", he assured her as he returned to her while she still had her eyes closed.

The teenager felt him standing just in front of her. But instead of receiving an object that was gently placed on top of her extended hands, as she expected, she felt something wet that was roughly pushed against the lower half of her face, restricting her breathing.

Shakahnna tried to scream as she opened her eyes and saw that the older man was holding a cloth to her mouth and nose with his left hand. As he did, Wesker turned his hand around even as he kept forcing the cloth against the same area and twisted himself around her, all the while using his left arm to press her own left arm against her side.

Feeling the RPD captain behind her, Shakahnna could tell that she was becoming drowsy due the chloroform that was found on that cloth. She tried to deliver a backward right elbow behind her, but was already weakened due to even the smallest amount of exposure to that substance. The lack of strength she had experienced made it possible for her antagonist to grab her right wrist before he twisted her right arm and popped that arm out of its shoulder joint. Wesker heard the teenager screaming in pain against the wet cloth as her right arm dangled uselessly by her side, so he capitalized by letting go of the chloroform and grabbing her left wrist before he popped that arm out of its shoulder socket also.

The Umbrella operative didn't hear a subsequent scream as the left arm went limp against the side of the redhead's body and her entire figure collapsed forward. So he knew she had passed out from the mixture of pain from both dislocated arm and the effect from the chloroform. 

Glad that his short-term task was over, Wesker gripped the girl's figure from behind the waist and dragged her towards the back door of his car. Too bad he didn't previously think to open that damn door, he thought to himself.


	14. Chapter 14 A painful awakening

Authors Note: This chapter does NOT be for kids ok? So is a little bit more violent than I'd want my kid sister to read. Everyone else am sure will be okies. Hope you enjoy and leave me reviews. J 

---------------------------------

"Chino?", the redhead whimpered, "Chino! I be'd having a bad dream. Can I get cuddles?".

The teenager felt too groggy to open her eyes, and that was strange because she didn't remember having such a difficult time waking up before.

From half a dozen steps away, Wesker was dressed in a white lab coat and examining a metal medical tray that contained several surgical supplies when he heard that she was awake. So he looked up from his current fascination in the direction of the stainless steel bed. On it, he saw that the redhead was trying to open her eyes, still oblivious to the fact that fortified metal plates around her upper and lower chests, her stomach, her thighs and her ankles were keeping her immobilized against the surface of the bed itself.

"Consider what I'm about to prove you to be, did I just hear you say that?", the Umbrella scientist uttered from behind his sunglasses.

Shakahnna's eyes popped open wide because she knew that the voice which greeted her wasn't supposed to be there as she woke up either at Chino's apartment or in her bedroom at the mansion.

"We… Wesker? What?", the teenager tried to sit up, realizing for the first time that she could not.

"I don't like this surprise", she told whoever may be listening as she knew she had to remain lying down against her wishes.

Not bothering to give her a reply, the scientist merely walked over to where the bed was, casually placing the medical tray a few inches away from her feet.

"It has indeed been a long and frustrating effort to bring you into this current situation", Wesker addressed her at long last, knowing that she was listening to every word he said, especially if she truly didn't know who and what she was, "You're not leaving here till I get to prove what you are. Nothing personal, I assure you".

"Does any part of that involve me being allowed to get up?", the redhead tried hard to keep the fear out of her voice, in case this was the older man's idea of a twisted practical joke, though what she could see from her surroundings made the chances of that pretty small.

This place was unlike anything she had seen before. It definitely wasn't part of the RPD headquarters, either new or old, nor was it anyone's home. So how did this police captain appear so comfortable here, after knocking her unconscious and strapping her to some place that he treated like his natural environment?

"Wesker, let me be up! I don't like this. Let me up!", she blurted out.

No visible reaction from him, just the pair of dark shades watching her facial and bodily expression, and never saying anything as he calmly stood next to the surgical utensils.

After a few seconds, he looked away from her, but only to stare down at the tray before picking a scalpel off it with his right hand.

Shakahnna thrashed with as much strength as she could afford, pushing her shoulders back to try to break the bars that were over her upper chest while trying to pull up her arms and legs in an attempt to loosen the lower restraints. It was all without any success as, whatever this metal was, it was made to pin down creatures who were even stronger than her.

"These are standard tyrant operation tables", the scientist laughed to himself as he approached the bed, "They're able to withstand a small explosion, so I promise that you _will_ only hurt yourself further if you insist on trying to test your body against them".

Wesker came up to the head of the bed, looking down at her face from a yard up, that scalpel always in his right hand.

"Besides, you wanted to spend more time with me, did you not?", he inquired in a voice that was calmer and colder than any she heard him using before, "We'll have a lot of fun here, or at least _I_ will".

With that, the older man used the scalpel to cut a four-inch long incision on her face, drawing a thin trickle of crimson fluid from the wound which ran down the side of her face before it dropped onto her shoulder.

"In case you're wondering, there was no purpose behind that. It was done simply to show you that I could", he smiled, enjoying the fact that she didn't pull her face away.

"Weskie. Weskie, please, don't be doing this", Shakahnna whispered, constantly staring through the shades and into his eyes.

Her pupils were dilated, so the original green of her eyes almost couldn't be seen. She was barely done talking when the older man used his left fist to deliver a punch to her jaw, forcing her head to snap back before the back of her skull met the hard metal behind it.

"Don't call me that!", the Umbrella scientist barked back.

"I won't say sorry", she had to fight hard to hold back tears as she re-adjusted her head so she was looking straight up towards the ceiling with the white lights, "I didn't do anything wrong".

"Well, dear, I believe you're mistaking both me and my employer for people who care", the shaded scientist answered.

The teenager wasn't having any of it. She turned her face away from him and closed her eyes shut.  
"This does not be happening. I'm not here. I just need to wake up", she whispered to herself only.

"Have it your way", Wesker was ready for her reaction as he reached for a piece of cloth that was drenched in chloroform.

Reaching over her shoulders, he pressed the cloth over her nose and mouth, just as he had done a short while ago.

But instead of seeing her pass out within a few seconds, all he witnessed was the redhead turning her face back to look upwards towards the ceiling, and a pair of angry green eyes staring back at him.

"What in the world…?", Wesker thought out loud as he kept pressing the fabric against the lower half of her face, but still didn't get the reaction he expected.

After approximately half a minute, the older man finally withdrew the wet cloth, sighing as he carefully brought it to within a few inches of his own nose to make sure that he wasn't mistakenly using a wrong substance.

True enough, the liquid that dampened the material was chloroform, except it wasn't working at all when it came to knocking the test subject out this time.

So the scientist kept the cloth in his left hand as he used his right grip to point the sharp tip of the scalpel against the bottom of her chin, forcing the girl to raise her head until her eyes were staring into his.

"You really _are_ exceptional, aren't you? What are you planning here?", he demanded.

"I be'd about to ask _you_ that", she hissed, "I'm the one who be's strapped to a bed with a nutcase holding a knife over me. What kinda fucked up planning did you think I be'd doing?".

The scientist didn't waste time by thinking of a comeback. Instead, he returned to his medical tray and placed the scalpel back on it while dropping the fabric with the chloroform into a nearby waste basket. He then eagerly withdrew a pen and a memo pad out of his lab coat and began writing down notes.

"Test subject's immunity to substances begins after first exposure", he thought out loud as he wrote those words down.

"You really are some actor, Weskie", she tested the limits of how far she could lift her head in an effort to look at his back, "I really fell for that act of yours when you pretended to wanna help those around us".

The teenager let the back of her head rest against the hard surface again as tears were beginning to form around her eyes.

"I really thought we were friends", she finished.

"Well, live and learn", the older man chuckled to himself as he turned back around to face her direction while putting the pen and memo pad back where he had originally retrieved them from, "Just a member of the RPD. Talk about a lack of ambition on that idiot's part".

She heard him coming closer to her area again.  
"Well, sweetheart, we're going to achieve so much more than that, between you and me", he uttered.

"I preferred it when you were acting, then", she insisted on looking back at him even through the haze that the tears brought when they couldn't be wiped from her face.

"I didn't", he shot back.

"So this is what? A money thing? A sick psychotic fantasy that makes no sense to anyone else thing?", Shakahnna inquired, "Or do… do you just hate me?".

"Oh, no", Wesker shook his head, "I assure you. If anything, it's the opposite. I have the highest fondness for you. I've wanted you like this for a _very_ long time".

"I really hoped that's not supposed to calm me down", she thought out loud, not being able to stop her entire body from involuntarily shaking.

The teenager wasn't even being given the ability to curl herself into a ball in an effort to protect herself from this ever more frightening situation. She was alone and vulnerable, two of the qualities she detested the most. So she was starting to lose her ability to think rationally.

"IF YOU'RE SO FUCKING FOND OF ME, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? WHY WON'T YOU LET ME GO?", she yelled out, her arms and legs thrashing and kicking uselessly against the powerful steel restraints.

Granted all that energy on her part wasn't doing anything useful when it came to helping her situation, but Shakahnna felt that it was still better than just laying there and doing nothing while he did whatever it was he had planned.

"This is what I get for trying to be nice by putting you under before you're cut open", the scientist sighed to himself as he prepared a sedative inside a syringe.

He ignored her violent reaction while pressing his left hand on one side of her face, thus forcing the opposite side to lay flat against the surface of the bed.   
"Weskie, don't! Weskie…", he continued ignoring her as he brought the needle closer to her neck with his right hand.

Wesker grunted once in aggravation since the teenager was making it difficult for him to find a vein to insert the needle into, as she continuously refused to stay still long enough for him to concentrate on the minor task.

"Weskie??", Shakahnna added one more time, adding to his anger.

So he finally got tired of his idea of the gentle approach and gripped her chin with his left hand instead, thus forcing the girl's face to look towards the ceiling once more. Not even bothering to look for a vein any more, the scientist shoved the needle into her neck and injected the contents into her system.

"Why do they always cry?", he asked himself as he withdrew the needle and spotted the tears that were running down her face.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

"You wanna wait out here or come in, dude?", officer Chisholm looked over to his partner as he was about to climb out of the front passenger seat after he had been drive to his destination.

"I'm fine out here, dude", officer Donnelly sighed as he merely undid his seatbelt and placed the car in the parked position, "Just go in there and bring her out already. We've wasted enough of tonight as it is".

"I'll be back real quick", the rookie promised as he exited the vehicle and pushed the passenger door closed behind him.

Reaching the large front door of the Warrens' mansion, the young man pressed on the buzzer and waited for the intercom to be answered. He sighed in frustration because he felt that the ten seconds it took someone from the other side to respond was too long.

"Yes, can I help you?", a man asked.

"Yeah, it's Stephen Chisholm from the RPD. Can I come in?", Chino replied.

"One moment", another few seconds passed before a man who was in his 30's and dressed as a butler opened the massive front door.

"How can I help you, officer?", Bustleton asked, motioning past the entrance as an invitation for the younger man to come inside.

"I'm not here on police business, actually", Chino nodded as he stepped into the large lobby, "But thank you. I wanted to come by and see if the mayor's adopted daughter was home?".

"No, officer, I'm afraid not. She _was_ here, with miss Joanne. But you missed her by several hours", the mansion employee informed him, "She last told me that she was returning to her workplace, actually. I take it that you two missed each other?".

"Yeah, I've been waiting at her job for hours, and saw a note from her saying she was gonna meet me there", the young man informed him as the door was closed behind them both, "And I've been calling her phone here for ages, but keep getting her answering machine in her room".

"She hasn't been back here since she left, sir. I don't know what to say", Bustleton stated.

"I don't wanna be a pain here, but could you do me a big favor and ask anyone here who's still awake if they've heard from her? I'm not even sure if they're in bed or not, I know it's late and all. Just, this isn't like her".

"Mr. Warren's been asleep since 10, and Mrs. Warren isn't due back here till at least tomorrow, but miss Joanne's still here, and from what I know about the young lady, she almost _never_ sleeps", the butler chuckled, "Would you like me to call her?"

"Please", Chino rubbed his hair with both hands as he stepped towards a nearby fancy chair and sat down on it in an effort to give his body a chance to relax.

He wasn't sure if he had enough of a rapport with the Warren employee to simply sit down without asking for permission first, but the older man appeared to be alright with the cop's presence. Plus, his feet were hurting after eight hours of work, and the stress of worrying about Shakahnna only wore him out faster.

It only took a short time for Bustleton to hang up the phone that was situated on a nearby wall, an action which led to Joanne Warren climbing down the stairs from her upstairs bedroom. The blonde teenager was dressed in a not so casual fashion as she sighed and rolled her eyes at seeing who her visitor was while Chino stood up.

"Oh, god, it's _you_", she spoke first, allowing Bustleton to leave the area, thus leaving them alone.

"Hello, Joanne. As you can imagine, this isn't much fun for me, either", the cop gave a smile since he wasn't nearly as bothered by her presence as she was by his.

"Wadda you want?", the teenager approached him.

"Did you hear anything from or about Shak since she left here?", Chino asked, wishing for the first time that Donnelly had come inside too to deal with the annoying blonde.

"Why would I? She was going to see _you_ anyway", Joanne scoffed, "Although I wish she would take my advice and see that nice Mayfair boy instead. _I_ wouldn't have him, naturally, but he'd be fine for Shak".

"You're sure she hasn't called you at all?", the young man was disappointed to hear as he sat back down, feeling dozens of thoughts that ran through his head, none of them good.

"What have I been saying here? No, I haven't. Was that all you came here for?", the blonde didn't bother hiding the fact that she wanted to be somewhere else.

"Yeah, goodnight, Joanne", he half-heartily waved as he stood back up and headed towards the main entrance.

"Huh?", the teenager carried a confused look on her face, not that he saw any of it as he mindlessly opened the large metal door and stepped through it without looking back.

From behind the wheel of the car, Donnelly spotted the rookie officer exiting the mansion as the young man looked even more worried than he was when he went in. So the older man lowered the front driver's side window and stuck his head out of it.

"Dude, what's wrong? Where's the redhead?", the more experienced cop called out.

Without saying anything, his partner merely shook his head as he partly lifted his arms away from his torso before letting them slap on either side of his body in a frustrated fashion.

"What did her parents say?", Donnelly inquired as Chino climbed into the front passenger seat and closed the door behind him, not bothering to place the seatbelt on.  
"They were asleep. Her sister and the butler guy haven't heard a thing from her since she left several hours ago to come meet us", the rookie stared ahead into the windshield.

"Ooookay…", the more experienced cop exhaled loudly, "Dude, she's probably playing more games, waiting for you under your bed for when you get home or something".

"It's not like her, though. Why wasn't she picking up _my_ damn phone when I kept calling her before we took off from work?".

"Maybe she's asleep there, like last time", Donnelly suggested as he looked behind him while driving the car backwards before turning it around and driving towards the outer gate.

"I hope she's there", Chino thought out loud to himself only as the vehicle rolled out of the Warrens' front garden.

"Seatbelt on, dude", his partner ordered, though the rookie continued not paying any attention to anything outside his own head.

--------------------------------------

"It's 4 fucking AM", Chino remained seated up on top of his bed, the inside of his dark apartment feeling exceptionally empty without the presence of the redhead.

"Eric says she's goofing around out there, that she'll call. So why isn't the damn phone ringing?", he rubbed his face with both his palms, "Of all the fucking times for them to change our shift, why did it have to be today? Could've been there with her when she left that note if some dumbfuck hadn't put me from 4 to freaking midnight".

There's no doubt that he wasn't about to fall asleep, as the tension in his body made his limbs feel like knots, and granted it had been only 24 hours since he'd seen her, but he couldn't remember doing anything without her since they met. But he just had no idea where Shakahnna was, and if she had gone somewhere without him, as his partner suggested before heading to his own home for the rest that he needed, then why had she left a note at work stating she planned to meet them there?

The only noise he heard since Donnelly had left was the sound of his own heavy breathing. To make things worse, he knew that if the redhead did not call him or hopefully drop by his apartment when the sun rose, then Chino didn't know of anyone to go to in an effort to ask for help in his attempt to find the lost teenager.

-----------------------------------

The phone that was located in his bedroom rang, prompting officer Chisholm to lift his head off the pillow.   
"Wh…?", he looked on either side of the room, unsure what the source of the noise was.

The young man quickly sat up, realizing that the phone to his home was ringing even as it occurred to him that he must've fallen asleep sometime this morning before the sun came up.

Rushing off the bed, he staggered towards the phone, only partially noticing that it was just after 10 AM.

"Yes! Hello!", he blurted out as he placed the receiver against the right side of his face, hoping and expecting a female voice at the same time.

"Hello, sir, can we interest you in an exciting new career in the field of…", the man on the other end sounded like he was reading a script.

"What?! Who's this?", Chino interrupted him, rubbing his eyes with the left hand.

"We're Allied Tradesmen, and after a 6-month training session, you too can start in the exciting field of…", the caller continued.

It was all it took for the young man's frustration to reach a boiling point as he slammed the receiver down and haphazardly tossed the entire phone across the room, not even looking were it hit the hall and fell apart as he left his bedroom.

He looked at the wristwatch that was sitting on top of the TV set in the living room, realizing it was exactly 10:13 AM. Thus, he had almost six hours before he had to be at work. But since the silence of the apartment was almost driving him insane, he decided to head out the door, either heading towards police headquarters or Donnelly's home. He didn't know which one just yet.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Allot of people would be freaked out living so close to the base of the Arkney woods, Jodie Welsh though to herself. Not them, though, as they loved it here. Peter was upstairs tucking in Roy and, while the sun was setting, she felt a sense of calm that was rarely captured by anyone. The move to Raccoon City was the best thing that they had ever done. Here she felt like she truly belonged, despite believing that such tight-knit communities were hard for outsiders to break into, since they had been accepted with the greatest of ease. The people of this city were so nice, it was almost like she had discovered Nirvana. 

Umbrella Inc had supplied jobs for just about everyone, so even financial problems that affected every other part of the country seemed to not be so bad here as people's work and income were stable and not in jeopardy. How Umbrella managed to keep its profits, and thus its large workforce, intact when so many other corporations had to downsize was a question that many people didn't bother to ask, as it was too much like looking a gift horse in the mouth. So it was left at that.

Sighing gladly, she walked over to the CD player and flicked the switch to turn it on, the system illuminating up. She sighed with contentment again as she stared out of the first floor window. They had decided not to remove the large glass patio doors as they were joined by the biggest windows that Jodie had ever seen. No way was she going to take away from the physical beauty of this house when it hadn't even seemed to be in their league at first. After having it become affordable with Peter's substantial pay rise at his new job, she wanted to be able to enjoy every square inch of the large home. She could see right down to the edge of the garden, past the 3-foot high fence and into the woods. It was perfect. 

What was that? Jodie was sure she saw something move. She laughed at the thought. Of course she had. It was probably a racoon or something, there was a reason the city was named after those rodents, after all. 

But no, that really looked like the silhouette of a person. Damn, even here, her mind played tricks on her. Jodie remembered that she had spent her whole life being told that her imagination was hyper active. It had always been a problem with her peers and teachers at school, and especially with her parents both during her childhood and afterwards when she was thankfully away from them. But the woods were so serene that she could not help but feel relaxed, finally thinking that she could put her lousy past behind her. Although that did resemble a person for a second, she also thought quietly, her mindset returning from the oneness she had been experiencing with nature to the current events. It couldn't hurt to turn on the light on the porch, at least, as it would simply prove there was no one there. But there was definitely movement. Behind the first shadow form, was another… And another after that. 

"Peter? Peter come down here and see this!", Jodie felt an unpleasant sensation grip at her chest. 

The sound of familiar footsteps coming down the stairs did quiet her fears slightly as she recognised them to be her husband's. The 24-year old woman just needed to hear that it was shadows and that she was being paranoid again as she knew that Peter was used to these types of questions. 

"What's wrong, honey? You sounded worried", the young man approached her from behind.

"Just wanted… I needed to have you to…", before she could finish her thought, the clean-shaven man silenced her with a question of his own. 

"Hey, who are _they_? I bet it's a bunch of drunk teenagers. Look at their posture. Turn on the porch lights, hon", Peter went on.

His wife walked over to a switch that was next to the side of the glass doors and flicked it upwards. The two powerful porch lights lit up on either side of the outside of the doors themselves, illuminating the entire garden and, to a lesser degree, the growing number of surprise visitors on the outskirts of the closed fence. The sudden light didn't seem to deter the currently half a dozen loiterers who were slowly swaying from side to side, 

"Go get drunk somewhere else, losers!", Peter spoke up, though he was obviously too far away to be heard by anyone other than his worried wife, "Has it been _that_ long since our time in college that I'm wondering why they get drunk all day long instead of doing any studying?".

"Maybe they're just guests at a party from a nearby house, honey", Jodie offered, though she wasn't sure if she believed her own explanation, "They probably got drunk in the backyard and then wandered around to here".

The shakiness of her voice revealed how nervous she was at the current situation, made worse by the fact that there were now at least ten drunk individuals, all either leaning on the fence and facing towards her home, or staggering towards the fence from a few yards away.

"Hey, get lost!", her husband raised his voice as he proceeded to open the left half of the glass doors to head outside and confront the strangers when he saw two of the group climbing over the waist-high fence to make their way towards his home.

He and his wife saw the first two individuals land on the garden past the fence before they rose back up on their feet and started stumbling towards their glass door. While that happened, several others behind the first two began climbing over the fence also.

"No! No, hon, please, no. I don't like the looks of this", Jodie sounded more scared as she held on to his left shoulder from behind, "Something's _very_ wrong here". 

"We can't just let them do this, sweetie", Peter replied as he looked back at her, his one hand still holding the left side of the door open.

"There's too many of them!", his wife exclaimed, pointing towards the garden in time to see that there were now five strangers inside the garden while half of dozen others were climbing the fence and two dozen others were slowly walking towards the fence itself, "I don't know who they are or where they're coming from. But this isn't right, hon!".

Peter said nothing for an instant, pondering about the situation for an instant.

"Just call the police, hon. They'll straighten this out", his wife urged.

The young man didn't take long to make up his mind, and he decided to do as she suggested. He closed the glass doors and locked them together before he anxiously walked towards the phone that rested in the living room. Picking up the receiver, Peter's throat tightened when he heard that the line was dead. He placed the receiver down before looking back at his wife, the worry showing on his face as he and his wife witnessed approximately fifty intruders, half of which were already in their garden and slowly but surely heading straight for them.

The first few individuals began banging on the glass doors, moaning incoherently in the process. Jodie placed a right hand over her own mouth to stifle her instinct to yell out, succeeding partially. But they could both tell that the back glass doors just wouldn't last much longer, as signs of strain already showed via tiny cracks on the surface that was constantly being pounded by dozens of determined fists and hands. 

Peter gripped his wife's hand and quickly led her through the hall towards the front wooden door of the house. Unlocking it, he then tried to open the front door. It didn't move, so he tried to push his weight against it, only to find that it was jammed shut.

The couple didn't have time to wonder what could be making the only other exit out of the house stick like that, despite the desperate pushes and kicks that were repeatedly delivered against the wooden surface. Peter screamed as he used all his strength to send a front kick next to the doorknob and, even though the wooden fabric was bruised, the door still refused to open. It was clear that, for reasons unknown, the door was not an accessible option. 

By this time, the windows at the front of the house were all broken and, although the moaning home invaders couldn't get in, their sinewy arms clawed and grasped inside the couple's home. A quick look around revealed that there were literally dozens of these individuals just outside each window as well as the transparent back doors. And whatever these intruders were afflicted with, they were certainly more than just drunk, lost and confused.

The residents within the house were trapped.

"Jodie, go upstairs and no matter what DO NOT come back down here until help arrives. Protect Roy. We don't have time to discuss this. You have to look after our son. I love you", Peter quickly instructed, trying to take charge of the situation. 

Jodie felt her eyes watering.

"I'm not leaving you!", she sounded resolute, "You come with me and we'll get Roy and get…".

"No! _You_ get Roy in his room, I'm holding them back if they start coming through the windows and the doors", Peter proved to be as resolved as her.

"I'm not leaving y…", his wife raised her voice.

"GO!", Roy's father angrily ordered.

She had seen him like this only a couple of times in their lives together, so she knew better than to waste time arguing with him over a point that she was sure he wouldn't relent on. She reached forth and kissed her husband on the lips.

"I love you, honey", she blurted out loud in an effort to be heard over the ever-louder moans that surrounded the house.

"I love _you_", he replied before turning his attention at whatever part of the house he believed the creatures were coming in from with the largest numbers.

Jodie ran upstairs, as was her husband's plan to protect their child. The thudding from downstairs grew louder and louder as she could hear those inhuman things rattling away as they tried to get in. She didn't have time to ask herself what it was they wanted as she was more concerned with getting the three of them out of there alive and unhurt. Any worries as far as losing their home would be a distant second to that objective. 

Upon reaching the 8-year old boy's second-floor room, she saw that Roy was already sitting up on his bed, scared and alert, his Pokemon pyjamas ruffled and dishevelled. The sight of his mother running through the doorway to his room was definitely a welcome sight, even as both mother and son heard glass breaking downstairs. The child was crying to himself, possibly because he already suspected that there may be something about this particular scary situation that even his parents couldn't correct and make better like they had done with every other event in his life so far.

Jodie was nearly by the boy's bed when she heard her husband screaming from the first floor, a sound which prompted her to momentarily stop and turn around as she looked back towards the staircase that she had used to come up here. Her mind was trying to consider her best plan of action, whether that'd be to pay attention to Roy, who was younger but not in trouble yet, or to Peter, who was older but whose life was most likely in peril. Not wanting to take long to decide, the young woman turned back around and addressed the young boy who was still seated up on his bed and kept instinctively clutching the blanket that covered his legs.

"Roy, honey, I want you to put your arms around mommy and don't let go now, you hear?", the mother reached for him with both arms, "You're gonna hang on to mommy real tight and we're gonna run downstairs and find daddy and then we're all gonna get out of here and go find help, OK?". 

The boy's only response was to point behind his mother with his right index finger as his eyes and mouth widened in a mixture of surprise and fear. Jodie didn't even have time to turn around to see what he was fixated on before she heard her son screaming out "MOMMYYYYYY!!!!".

The young woman twisted around to face the area that was behind her, ready for whatever may be there, or at least so she thought. Her heart felt like it skipped a beat as her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened due to seeing a creature whose general physique looked to be human, but the similarities ended there. What she could only describe as a monster whose overall flesh was decayed and whose head was more of a skull than a face had climbed up the staircase and was entering the room after her. Its arms were stretched out as it slowly but eagerly tried to touch her with its hands.

It didn't occur to Jodie that there were now probably dozens of these things all over the first floor of her house, or that Peter was probably dead due to the creatures' invasion of her home, or that she wasn't sure she could survive a confrontation against a single one of them, much less against several of them together. None of those thoughts entered her mind because she had to protect Roy first and foremost, so she instinctively grabbed the only lamp that was a few feet away from the boy's bed and swung it in a downward vertical arc with her right arm. The bottom of the lamp crashed into the side of the intruder's head, smashing into several pieces and forcing the two-legged monster to sway to one own side as its legs temporarily buckled. Unfortunately, the creature didn't fall down, and its legs prompted it to stand back up to its full height despite the large gash that appeared on the side of its face.

"Roy, get out of here!", was the only instruction Jodie could give before she hurled herself forward in an effort to push the monster out of the bedroom before hopefully closing the door in its face.

Her push shoved the intruder three slow steps backwards until they both reached the open doorway, but it was there that her antagonist stood firm, placing both its arms around her torso as its fingers dug into her own upper arms. The standstill continued for a few, intense seconds, neither human nor monster being able to push the other away, before Jodie spotted two more inhuman creatures following the first one on the staircase. That was all she got to see before her adversary reached down with its own face and bit her on the side of the neck, sending a wave of pain through the young woman's body before her legs gave out and she felt herself collapsing towards the floor.

Roy had no choice, he had to jump out of the second-floor window. He could still hear his mother screaming in pain behind him, and he knew he had to get away or the bad men would get him. The small child opened the window and looked out, seeing that it was a long way down. He took several seconds, which felt like forever, before he leapt out of the window, screaming with fear until the deafening thud his legs made upon impact with the ground below. The top of his knee jutted out through the skin, pure white cartilage glistening as the blood gushed from the open wound, his new screams ringing loud and clear in the night air. He did not care that the attackers who were infesting the entire house and all its surroundings would notice him, the pain in his legs so great that nothing could silence him at the moment while he kept his small mouth open, constantly showing off the little, white teeth. 

The badly decayed walking corpses didn't hear the boy's screams, as they were starting to rise from the still body of his father. They moaned gently, as almost like a prayer of thanks, as if they were groaning that Roy could not hear their noise over the sound of his own cries. So Roy roared his lungs out, the tears pouring down his little cheeks and onto his pyjamas after blood had already soaked its bottoms after the poor youth soiled himself with fear, urine running down the insides of his legs. At first, only one figure staggered towards the nearly broken figure of the young boy, but soon, ten or more large hulking figures descended towards his frail body. The new attention was explained because the flesh was now stripped from his father's bones, meaning that Peter's remains had lost any appeal to the ravenous men. But yet they could not be men, as their flesh was peeling and dropping from their bodies, the wounds wriggling and squirming with maggots and pulsating, unlike their festering hearts. Their eyes void of life, staring blankly at their prey, their arms were held out limply in front of them as they stumbled forward, their rotting feet providing just enough support for them to remain vertical. Even though one leg might've dragged and scraped along the ground, hindering their movement, they could still catch up to the 8-year old boy because of their constant persistence.

Despite the pain searing through his body, Roy turned so he could use his little hands to pull himself forward, his tiny eyes full of concentration. He could hear them behind him, gaining on him, so his features contorted with the panic he was feeling, the bottom lip quivering without encumbrance. The slow moaning from behind him begged him to give up, to stop fighting, and continued despite Roy wishing that he could block out their wailing and their horrific cries. Fresh tears climbed down his face and soaked the rough ground underneath him, and were then scraped away by his stomach with each inch he moved. Each precious inch of ground he gained caused him to scream out in pain, pieces of dirt and stone embedding themselves in his skin, the smell of his blood causing those stalking him to become wild with anticipation. 

The monsters' stumbling became more hurried, filling Roy with a greater sense of urgency, his breathing becoming more focused. Some had fallen and were moving on their hands and knees, almost similarly to him, but despite the pain he was in, he moved quickly. His little heart lurched with hope as he could finally see people, and real ones as opposed to the undead ones who followed him, at the end of the garden. The real people who were just beyond the garden were watching him from behind the fence, so if he could just get to them, he was sure they'd save him. Maybe mommy or daddy got away! Maybe they were with those people right now, just waiting for him to make it there too. These thoughts were running through his head as he became concerned only with making it to the end of the garden and to the safety of his parents' protective arms. The hope rose like fresh air into his lungs, his little arms crawling and pulling faster, his chest heaving, gasping at taking in air. 

The hope of escape glimmered in the child's ravaged body, but he also wondered why those people were just standing there. Maybe this was just a bad dream, so he whispered a silent prayer to Jesus just like mommy had told him to do. Jesus would save him, after all what had mommy said? The lord helps those who help themselves, so he knew he had to get to the end of the garden even if the pain was nearly causing him to pass out, the lids of his petite eyes overly heavy.

The human being at the end of the garden could indeed see the young child's plight, but no one could obviously be allowed to live through this and recount what happened. So the man only watched as Roy actually managed to reach him yards ahead of the nearest zombie. The boy worriedly reached up and grabbed the front of his right leg, marking it with his fresh blood.

"Pwease save me!", the small boy looked up as he begged for help from the man who was dressed in a RPD uniform. 

Roy's potential saviour brought back his right foot and then kicked the child directly under the chin, knocking Roy a handful of yards back into the garden that he had come from. 

The back of the young child's head crashed against a relatively large rock, creating a bump that was the size of a golf ball at the place of contact. He passed out from the new pain, not even realizing that his leg was so twisted below the knee that it was only being held in place by skin. So in his state of unconsciousness, he also didn't see or feel anything when the first walking and rotting corpse descended upon him.

"Test A affirmative", Albert Wesker reported into a microphone that was attached around his head as he watched the boy's leg spasm while the youngster was being eaten, "It worked as planned. Now _do_ please send in my hunters to remove the evidence".

------------------------------------

Shakahnna woke up, realizing that she had seen the entire event in her sleep, all the way from when the family's home was invaded by the monsters to when the last survivor, that being Roy, was kicked unconscious before being eaten alive. Albert Wesker was still dressed as a scientist while he was reading some charts near the steel bed that she was still strapped to. The older man thought to himself that seeing her wake up early should've surprised him, but it really didn't, not when he was dealing with a specimen that was in a class of her own.

"How _could_… How could you have done that?", the teenager groggily asked him, not able to keep the disgust from her voice once she knew she was no longer alone and recognized who the only company there was.

"Did what?", the scientist didn't turn in her direction as he asked, suspecting she was referring to the pain in her stomach.

"You murdered them! He was only a baby! You be'd killing that boy and his family", she lifted her face towards him, even as she noticed that some of her clothes were gone.

That at least got his attention as he put the charts down on the nearest table and turned to face her.

"How do you know about that?", the scientist demanded as he approached the bed.

"I _sawed_ you! You bastard", Shakahnna screamed back.

"How could you have?", Wesker followed through, talking more to himself than to her, "You were here all that time, completely out cold after I was done examining you".

He instinctively touched a long surgical scar that spanned from the extreme right side of her waistline, past her navel, all the way to the extreme left side of the abdominals. The gentle way he traced the outline of the scar made her jump as far as the restraints would let her.

"But regardless of what I found in surgery, this is still important", he informed her as he withdrew that pen and memo pad out of his lab coat again.

Wesker began writing more notes on paper about whatever he suspected might've given the girl the ability to see events when she wasn't actually there while they occurred, not caring that the redhead was watching him walk away and talking to himself at the same time. 

++++++++++++++++++

"It's been surprisingly quiet here", captain Wesker thought to himself as he rested his right elbow on his desk at RPD headquarters and placed his chin within the right palm, "I wonder how I've been able to work uninterrupted for the last couple of days now".

"Something's off in this place, just wish I could put my finger on it", he continued talking to himself as he leaned back on the chair, placing his hands within two of the many pockets that were on his dark blue uniform.

"Of course!", he snapped three fingers from his right hand as he leaned back forward, "I know what it was. The lack of paper airplanes being thrown at the back of my head, no random voicemails left on my machine of growling noises that are followed by giggles, no constant hassles to meet for lunch that I need to turn down, and no one's been trying to hide under this desk, waiting to bite my ankles when I sit down. It all means there's a lack of our precinct's red-headed terror. Where has she been?".

The RPD official remembered not seeing Shakahnna at her desk for the last few days now. In fact, the last time he had seen her was at the STARS picnic. So more curious to find out the reason for her unexplained absence than anything else, Wesker picked up the phone that was a short distance away on the overcrowded surface of the desk. He already remembered her phone number, and thus didn't need to look it up before he dialed several digits and waited as the connection took place.

Wesker counted five rings on the other end before Shakahnna's voice greeted the caller via her answering machine.

"Hewwo, it be's me", he heard the teenager's recording say, "Leave your number and, if I like you, I'll be calling you back. And if I don't, I won't. Have a nice day, unless it be's Joanne or Donnelly, in which case, fuck you".

The Umbrella operative had to smirk as he heard the end of the greeting, despite having heard the message a number of times before, and then knew to start talking after a ~beep~ followed.

"Well, miss Warren, I've noticed your absence from work", Wesker spoke into the receiver, "You know my number at work. Get back to me when you have the chance".

He had just hung up the phone when his radio buzzed. It wasn't an urgent message from the police district as a general call was placed to any officers on routine patrol. He was informed of the occurrence, that being a phone call that was originally received by an emergency phone operator, and it was thus passed along to a patrol car within the vicinity of the city. It seemed a frantic person had picked up a payphone to reach the police. It was only by luck that someone as high in rank as a captain had heard about it while going about the usual duties for both his employers.

The distraught man had informed the operator that he found a body in a park at the corner of 5th and Carlton St, and a patrol vehicle was already en route to the area to investigate.

Such a call would not usually be a high priority with the average police officer who's on foot, bike or car patrol, much less for a higher-ranking member of the RPD. That's because about 90% of the calls received by the emergency phone operator that report a body being found or seen are actually a false alarm. The truth is that the alleged dead person is either a drunk who's passed out on the streets or a homeless person who's asleep. But there was something different about this call that caught the captain's attention.

The witness had stated that the victim appeared to have been attacked by a large animal, that there was blood everywhere around the vicinity of the corpse, and then threw up while the operator relayed the information. That by itself was enough to make this call a unique one.

Wesker's face tightened as he pondered the situation, even as he was seated at his desk and staring ahead in his office while ignoring the massive amount of paperwork in front of him. It was always possible that this case was an accident of nature, and that's assuming that it turned out to be validated by the patrol officers on their way to confirm or deny the significance of the call. Raccoon City was on the outskirts of a mountainous terrain, after all, and many predators lived in the wild hills around it as well as the forest just outside the city. It was conceivable that one of those animals, either a wolf or even a mountain lion, could've made its way past the borders of the city and killed someone. And the intersection of 5th and Carlton streets was on the edge of the city, just a couple of miles away from the beginning of Raccoon Forest. So such a theory would make sense.

Except Wesker knew more than the average citizen, such as his chief employer's residence and business within the city, as well as one of Umbrella Inc's facilities that was located right in the middle of Raccoon Forest itself. Umbrella also experimented on live animals, which he had witnessed with his own eyes as part of the company's security force. It was impossible to come up with creatures like hunters without depending on animals that nature provided initially, and the Umbrella scientists had sworn that such experiments were needed to ensure they were up to date with the many evolving strains of any given virus. So Umbrella had taken precautions to make sure that those beasts were kept away from people since they always acted much more violently and with more strength upon being introduced to some fancy virus or another.

But no security is without fail all the time. Wesker knew about that better than anyone. He had been forced to respond to more than a few instances of when a hunter or a dog broke out of its cage or restraints. Even in the few moments it had taken him and his colleagues from security to kill or at least incapacitate the animal, it had already inflicted major damage on the humans around it.

The result was never good. Hunters could kill a person with one swipe of their arms. Dogs would usually take a bit longer, but they too had the ability to pin an adult human under their weight before savagely dismembering them within seconds.

Of course, all creatures up to this point had been killed or restrained before too long, and definitely before they had a chance to leave the secret facility in Raccoon Forest. Wesker had never heard of any infected animals ever getting out to attack the population before. And he believed that he was simply reading too much of this situation anyway. Even if there was a dead body at 5th and Carlton, it was probably either a murder by another human or at most an attack by a regular animal.

The captain stood up, grabbed his RPD jacket and left the office in order to drive towards that intersection himself. Paperwork could always wait. He had to quiet down the nagging voice in the back of his mind that something may be seriously wrong.

------------------------------------

Evidence of the sun couldn't be seen anywhere, even though it was well into the afternoon. The sky overhead seemed to be a thick, gray carpet of clouds that hung ominously over the buildings, stretching as far as the eye could see from one end of the horizon to the other. Every structure that lined the many streets of Raccoon City and which blocked the skyline, whether it be large like a building of variable size or even small like a lamppost, was also surrounded by the same background. Besides the clouds that were so massive that they almost appeared to be a fog that melted away the edges of those structures to anyone who was looking at them from below, citizens also had to contend with a howling wind that accentuated a weather that was colder than usual.

He walked alone outside, making his way towards his parked car. And while everything around captain Wesker seemed to be enveloped in a dull gray color, his entire world seemed to be enveloped in light-colored black instead as he always kept his shades on his face, even now.

The drive towards his destination was a surprisingly quiet one as he made his way through darkened streets while eternally gray clouds blocked most of the light from the sky above. Not only did the radio in his vehicle not come on with calls, but the captain also didn't hear the citizens outside making as much noise as he remembered them to usually do during a typical weekday.

Having reached the intersection of 5th and Carlton streets within minutes, Wesker took his time to park the unmarked police car next to the sidewalk on 5th St. He could see the park that took the entire side of Carlton St as yellow police tape was already in place there. That at least confirmed that he was dealing with an actual crime scene and not a mistaken call of someone who was asleep or just drunk. Undoing his seatbelt and exiting the vehicle, he quickly walked towards the location after he hastily looked down the street to first look out for other cars.

------------------------------

"Sir", a patrolman greeted him as he approached the crime scene.

"What's the situation here?", Wesker asked the younger man, realizing that he recognized his colleague's face even if he had never spoken to him personally.

It didn't take him long to notice that the man's name tag identified him as officer Yuen. 

Instead of answering his superior officer, though, Yuen placed his right palm over his own mouth, appearing as if he felt ill. Wesker only had enough time to step closer to him before the young man bent down and threw up on the concrete ground.

"Are you feeling alright?", the captain inquired, coming within an arm's reach of the man.

"I… I'm sorry", the patrolman coughed as he kept facing the ground and pointing behind him towards the yellow tape with his left hand, "Back there…".

Seeing that the younger officer wasn't experiencing anything worse than nausea, the Umbrella spy hurriedly made his way towards the other uniformed cop at the scene as the third man still had his back turned to them both.

"What's going on here, off…", was all Wesker got to say as he reached the man he recognized as officer Brenner.

He stopped mid-sentence because he ended up seeing the same crime scene that the Yuen's more experienced partner was looking at all along. Behind the police tape were the remains of a human being who had been savagely torn apart. Most of the victim's clothes were missing, though a few pieces of red shirt and blue jeans could still be found sporadically. While the majority of the mostly nude body was covered in blood and dozens of savage bite marks, Wesker saw that the cadaver's left leg was several yards away from the rest of the body.

Upon seeing the corpse, he couldn't help but instantaneously reminisce about the last time he had been working inside an Umbrella lab almost two years ago. The scene of a hunter's escape and subsequent rampage had produced victims that were as ravaged as this one before he had finally incapacitated the creature with seven rounds from his Desert Eagle.

"The youngster's not seen anything like this before, I'm afraid, sir", Brenner addressed his superior, "And neither have I, to be honest. It looks like a grizzly bear attack surprised her, sir".

"Does it really?", the captain went on, still eyeing the bloody remains.

"At least I _think_ it's a 'her'", Brenner followed.

"Have you called the crime scene unit yet?", the undercover operative turned his attention to address the patrolman as Yuen was approaching the pair, having finished losing the morning's breakfast.

"Yes, sir", Yuen answered on Brenner's behalf as he kept his left hand on his stomach and stood next to both men, keeping Wesker in between the cops.

"Will you two be OK till it arrives?", the captain inquired.

"Yes, of course", the older patrol officer replied.

"I have some place I have to be. I want you both to stay together till back-up arrives, got it?", Wesker ordered.

He heard "of course" and "no problem" from both men as he turned back to head towards his parked car.

Claymont had a lot of explaining to do.

---------------------------------

"He's where?", Albert Wesker placed both his palms on the surface of the desk, his shades staring intently at the face of the younger woman who had the misfortune of sitting behind it.

"He's in a very important meeting with the senior partners, Mr. Wesker", the secretary didn't appear to be distraught as she met his gaze, "Mr. Claymont didn't say when he'll be back".

The Umbrella security guard guessed that her direct employer made it easy for her to not be intimidated by anyone who was working within this underground facility, as Claymont was well-known to aggressively deal with anyone who'd hassle his personal staff. But he also wasn't in the mood for such a delay, so the older man stood back at his full height as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Look, miss… whatever your name is", Wesker countered, "I've already had the pleasure of hearing our not so bright leader in there give that same overused excuse more often than I remember. Enough to know that he's in there while we're both out here".

He pointed past her desk and towards the only door that led in and out of Claymont's office as he finished talking.

"So are you going to tell me whether his door is locked now and spare us both the inconvenience of me having to kick it open and you having to call in a repair crew to fix it if you refuse to unlock the damn thing?", the undercover RPD employee followed through, "Because whether you explain to the big boss man that I got past you or whether I literally have to step on you to get there, I _am_ talking to him _now_".

The younger woman sighed.

"Your reputation for persistence wasn't undeserved", she picked up the phone and pressed one button to reach someone on the other end while she kept staring at the older man who was still standing in place across from her desk. 

"Mr. Claymont? There's a Mr. Wesker here to see you. And he refuses to go away". 

She waited for an instant.

"Yes, sir, he _is_ armed", she then said into the receiver,

Another moment of silence on her part.

"OK, sir", the woman hung the phone up before addressing the security guard, "You can go in, and no, it's not locked".

"Much obliged", Wesker nodded in a mocking fashion as he made his way towards the vice-president's office door.

Upon entering the older man's work area, he caught sight of two people who were in the office instead of just one. Claymont was seated behind his desk, looking slightly dishevelled as both his hands were hidden behind the desk itself, prompting Wesker to think that the Umbrella supervisor was zipping up. The guard's belief was confirmed when he saw that the second person there was a curvaceous woman, about the same age as the secretary outside, who was busy wiping her mouth with her sleeve as she headed towards the door to leave the office.

"Please get out", Wesker held the door open until the unknown female exited.

Upon closing it behind her, he was finally left alone with the older man as Claymont still hadn't managed to get past the post-orgasm blush.

"You could've at least tucked in your shirt for me", Wesker commented as he approached the vice president's area.

"What can I do for you, Mr. W…", was as far as Claymont got when it came to his standard, overly polite greetings.

"Talk", the spy-turned-cop ordered as he pointed towards his superior with his right index finger and stood in place on the other side of Claymont's desk, "I'm not in the mood".

"Now, don't go getting yourself all upset, youngster", the older man advised, "I take it you're talking about our little escapee".

"Of course!", Wesker's voice rose by a few degrees, "I just came from a crime scene where a citizen's been found gutted. What the _hell_ do you guys have running around out there?!".

"It's just a cerberus, just one. It got away from our holding cell", the vice president got to the point, "But our ground teams are busy locating it, Albert. I expect them to find it and bring it back in no time".

"Do I have to ask how your employees could've screwed things up this badly?", the younger man crossed his arms in front of his chest, always keeping his eyes on the seated supervisor, "But I digress. I don't have time to waste, like I said. Any ideas which side of town this dog of yours is now? We'll find it and put it out of its misery much quicker".

"No, no, it's too close for your boys in blue. Remember what your job is, Albert. You're supposed to be there to stop us from being found out, not _helping_ them find us out", Claymont countered, partly looking away from his associate's unnerving stare.

"Then I'll shoot the damn thing and make sure it's never found! Anything you wanna bet says I can kill it sooner than _your_ boys can try to trap it".

"Albert, no, I have to put my foot down here", Claymont stood up an instant before he wished he hadn't as his untucked suit looked out of place when he had a tie dangling on top of it, "This cerberus will be back where it belongs before the day's over, I promise you that. But _we'll_ be doing that, not you".

"I'm coming back here tomorrow morning, and if this dog isn't in a cage or dead by that time, then this city goes on alert until the RPD takes it out", the guard instinctively brushed his hair with his right hand, "Count on it".

Without waiting for a reply, Wesker turned back around and exited the office, prompting the vice president to finally sit back down on his chair.

"_Gotta_ get that gun away from him", Claymont sighed to himself as he heard the door closing when he was left alone.

He picked up the phone that was nearest him and dialed several numbers on it, intending to contact the lab underneath the Spencer mansion. To his surprise, he only heard a whistling sound emanating from the receiver before an electronic voice told him that the number he wanted to call was disconnected.

Claymont's mouth dropped open in a mixture of surprise and fear as he carelessly hung up the phone.

"Oh dear…", he moaned to himself.

++++++++++++++++++

"Why, Michael, I never knew you cared. Yes, it _is_ my birthday", Wesker commented into his personal cellphone as he made his way through a hallway in the Spencer mansion, "I _do_ feel wary that I'm a year older now, but I had to remember that with age, comes wisdom".

"Captain, what the hell are you talking about?", the mayor of Raccoon City answered him through the phone.

"How did you get my cell number?", the RPD captain's sarcastic tone of voice changed to his usual one.

He was already changed from that ridiculous blue police uniform into regular clothes, after having already wasted so much precious time conversing with Claymont when he should've been with his precious specimen.

"I tried to get you at the RPD, but you're not answering the messages I leave", Mr. Warren countered, "Elena gave me this number of yours".

"You know what they say. There's no place like home, and not to mention that if you spent half as much time making money for the city as you did bothering me, we wouldn't be in this mess". 

The younger man in the shades casually stepped over a bloody carcass that was half-sprawled against the wall. Wesker wasn't sure if the dead fellow scientist whose white lab coat was covered in tears and blood was truly deceased or if his body would be re-animated soon, but he didn't care as he passed the scene and continued heading towards his destination.

"What is this I'm hearing about you actually _expanding_ your STARS branch instead of dismantling it like you were told?", the mayor increased the tone of his voice before Wesker took the cellphone several inches away from his ear, "I report to my office and find that a _new_ officer, this Rebecca Chambers, is joining the RPD STARS? Which part of 'get rid of them' didn't you understand?".

"Well, you see, the problem is, Michael, that I don't take orders from an obnoxious rodent like you", the younger man couldn't help but grin, even as he came across movement from several yards ahead in the hallway.

"This is coming from _your_ boss!", Mr. Warren shot back while Wesker was too busy looking at a zombie who slowly staggered towards him as its arms extended forward.

The scientist with the sunglasses smoothly dropped his upper body so his head was under the reach of the monster's arms, and then twisted his body at a 90 degree angle so his back was flat against the wall. In that position, he quickly kept walking past the creature, putting several steps between it and himself by the time the zombie had even gotten to turn its head towards him.

Wesker didn't bother turning back around as he continued briskly marching towards his destination, confident that the walking corpse behind him couldn't catch up.

"But _I_ don't remember giving myself those orders, Mike", he then chuckled into the cellphone receiver after he re-placed the gadget against his ear.

"What the hell are you pulling at here?! I don't have time for this shit from your end when Elena's breathing down my neck and bugging me nonstop about…", was as far as the city's mayor got to exclaim.

"I'm sorry, Michael, you must be breaking up. I can't hear you very well", Wesker smiled, "Must be these damn walls. They're so thick, you know".

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare han…", Mr. Warren was interrupted as his younger antagonist disconnected the conversation and turned the cellphone off before placing it into one of the pockets in his lab coat.

He placed both his hands inside the lab coat pockets also as he eagerly continued walking. Being only another minute away from the room he was impatient to reach, he sighed in frustration as he caught sight of two more individuals who were jogging towards him. 

He couldn't simply dodge these individuals because they had the distinct difference of being alive, and not walking zombies, which was what he'd encountered before this. He also recognized them as the two security guards who had initially tried to stop him from entering Area 157 during his previous excursions there. Wesker sighed to himself, as this was going to delay him even further.

"Sir! This entire place is going to hell", one of the guards addressed him as both men were fervently grasping their assault weapons, "So many of the technicians and guards are dead or have gone _insane_".

"If it wasn't for us, even more would be dead now. We don't even know where most of the survivors are holed up any more", the first man's partner addressed the scientist in his own turn, "Where's that back-up we were told was on route before the phone lines went down?".

"They're still above us in the mansion. I ran into some of them there", Wesker lied, "It shouldn't take them much longer to get down here".

"We need the help here. We're out of weapons", the first guard continued, "Rich and I here are the only ones who are armed, as far as I can see. We've had to shoot so many people so far".

"Not true", Wesker withdrew his Desert Eagle pistol, indicating that he was the third armed person present.

"Are we going up to the mansion to meet up with the rest?", the man called Rich asked him as he kept checking both sides of the long hallway every few seconds.

"Negative. We're better off staying put till the help reaches us", the scientist suggested, "We're less likely to encounter anything before the big firepower arrives".

"Yeah, yeah, good idea", the first armed sentinel nodded his head, still glad that the trio weren't seeing any creatures coming their way.

"This way. It's as safe as we'll get for the time being", Wesker retained his right grip on his firearm as he opened the nearest doorway with his left hand, twisting the knob and holding the wooden door open with the left hand.

"Gentlemen", he pointed towards the inside of the dark room with his right arm, "We should lock the door behind us. These things don't appear to be intelligent enough to get past such obstacles".

Rich went inside the pitch black room first, and instinctively placed his left palm over his nose and mouth as he gagged while making sure to hold on to his weapon with the right hand. His partner followed him second and quickly contorted his own face in disgust.

"Oh, man!", the second man in the room exclaimed as he held his breath, "What _is_ that? Smells like something died in here!".

Neither person noticed that Wesker wasn't following them inside like expected. Instead, the scientist raised his weapon at arm's length in front of his face and pointed it at the second guard's back.

"How astute of you", the man in the white lab coat answered as he pulled the trigger once.

A flathead round shot into the middle of his target's back, blowing a large hole through it as that individual dropped dead on the floor without making a sound. Even before the guard named Rich had time to turn around, Wesker calmly aimed the weapon towards his back and pulled the trigger for the second time. His second victim gave a short scream as he tried to turn around while staggering forward, before finally collapsing two steps away from his partner. The body crashed on the floor in the middle of the dark room and didn't get back up, but Wesker didn't see any of that because he was already in the process of closing the door by this time.

--------------------------------------

Shakahnna had been awake for quite a while, singing to herself to keep away the electronic hum of the neon lights and various machines she was hooked up to. She couldn't decide what was worse between the sheer solitude and Wesker, but either way, she had to keep listening to her own voice to avoid the risk of going mad.

She ultimately heard a door opening and closing, prompting her to believe that the relative peace was at an end. So it didn't surprise the teenager to first hear footsteps approaching her before she saw Wesker's face looking down onto hers.

"I'm not going to bother asking you what you were singing. Don't have to time for the reply", the older man stated as he then looked beyond her to some of the equipment and documents that seemed to be everywhere, "But things are happening outside my sanctuary, and I'm afraid I'll have a much tougher time protecting you if you're not moved".

His statement first got a confused look on her face. That was followed by a dry laugh on the redhead's part.

"I think the only thing I need protecting from be's _you_", she spat back, "And where the _hell_ do my clothes be?".

"You don't need to worry about them. I only remove them when absolutely necessary for my findings", the scientist continued, "There's no need for you to be shy anyway. But before I move you to a safer place, I _do_ need to take a skin sample from your leg".

The scientist first reached for and turned on a nearby Dictaphone before placing the electronic gadget on a table that was an arm's reach away from him.

"As long as you don't struggle, there is no need to have more discomfort than the procedure requires", the scientist advised.

His first act was to free her left leg from behind the metal restraints, so the left side of her body could be raised from the waist down for the first time in what felt like was forever.

The teenager yelped as the muscles in that leg jerked involuntarily several times, cramping as they did. The left thigh and calf contracted as she felt the Umbrella researcher taking a hold of her ankle with one hand as he reached for what she could only describe was a fancy potato peeler with the other. Wesker was busy examining her limb as he talked into the Dictaphone, too busy to notice the angry stare he was getting from his live experiment. While he did, the teenager's face was reddened as she watched him examine her leg like it was his idea of an exquisite work of art.

"The epidermal layer is unblemished. Translucent grey effect that usually occurs due lack of oxygen and takes place because of the absence of cells isn't present", the older man was talking out loud.

"Stop touching me", Shakahna hissed, bringing him out of his concentration.

"This really won't take long", Wesker quietly countered, disliking that the lecture for his Dictaphone was interrupted.

The fact that he didn't even bother looking at her face as he brushed off the protest might've been what pushed the redhead's mind to the point where she wasn't thinking clearly or with even her best interest in mind. So the teenager retracted her leg, ignoring the pain she felt from its days of inactivity, before she kicked the older man under the chin with as much strength as she could afford.

The blow sent Wesker staggering three steps backwards as his head was facing the ceiling and a trickle of blood emerged from his teeth. After the pair of seconds it took him to regain his composure, he looked back towards his aggressor. He also heard the metallic bed that Shakahnna was on being continuously rattled due to her efforts to angrily break the remaining of the majority of restraints.

"That wasn't very smart", the scientist calmly commented as he wiped the trail of blood off his lower face with a sleeve, "And all this after I've been going out of my way to make this experience as painless for you as possible".

"YOU THINK THIS IS GENEROUS?!!", Shakahnna countered, her voice shaking due to having realized the possible consequences after losing her temper, especially considering that her situation hadn't improved due to her not being able to get out of the bed.

And how calmly the older man was staring at her was most worrying of all.

"But since you apparently have so much excess energy, I think that maybe we can proceed with an experiment I was considering for the future, and without the anaesthetic, seen your desire is to make this as difficult as possible for all involved", the researcher approached the metal bed before he grabbed her face under the chin, making sure he was out of the way of her left leg.

"You're my slave, miss Warren", he spoke a few inches above her face, "You just haven't accepted it yet".

Sighing, Albert Wesker walked away from the bed, even as his experiment kept thrashing, though he couldn't understand why, especially considering he hadn't carried out his plan yet. Stopping in front of a cabinet, he reached in and withdrew a glass bottle before going back in the direction that he came from. If this redhead wanted to play rough, then he could definitely do that. It's not like he was impatient to go anywhere else now that he was here. As far as he was concerned, he had all the time in the world.

"Let's call this here a lesson on how you shouldn't do anything stupid like that", the man in the shades approached the prone teenager.

With the same ease that he used to open a bottle of whiskey, he undid the safety cover for the small container before tossing the liquid contents on her left leg. The majority of that limb went red as it began to swell up and blistered due to the contact of the acid on her skin there. Shakahnna's eyes bulged as she bit down on her tongue, not wanting to give her tormentor the satisfaction of hearing her scream. The blisters popped, blood emerging from underneath them, while effectively shedding all the skin from her left leg and leaving that part of her body with the wet muscles exposed. 

Despite her endurance, her body buckled as her hips went up and her shoulders were pressed against the surface of the bed, prompting her to press her legs back down against the bottom half of the bed. She didn't even see Wesker using that reaction to his advantage, springing to action with the reflexes of a snake as he placed the metal restraints over her injured left leg, thus returning the human experiment to her previous position.

"Shit, shit shit…", was all the teenager allowed herself to moan between repeated bites down on different parts of her own lip.

"Bet you wish you had acted better now", the man in the shades commented, a hint of the anger he must've been feeling for the last few minutes finally surfacing in his voice, "Because by the time we finish this, you _are_ going to learn to play nice".

Reaching underneath his lab coat, the teenager saw that he was gripping something in his right hand. She didn't wish to see what it was. She already knew it wasn't going to be anything good, as that aspect of her life had been put on hold quite a while ago, but suspected that the older man was bringing out a gun before he shot her. So Shakahnna turned her head to the side, tucked her chin towards her collar and closed her eyes tight.

Instead of a shot being fired, though, all she felt was the sensation of cold metal next to the side of her face. By instinct, she opened the eye that was closest to the metallic object and caught sight of a 9-inch long silver-colored hunting knife whose handle was outfitted with a brass knuckle extension.

That's not much better, she thought to herself. In fact, a damn gun would've been quicker. I don't want to die down here alone, she continued hearing her own voice in her mind only as she closed her eyes back. Whatever short life she could remember was about to come to an end here, and she hated thinking of that, because she would never get the chance to move in with Chino, or be a police officer, or dye Joanne's hair black, or even be accepted by Donnelly.

"Weskie, I don't wanna die", she was disgusted that she couldn't think of anything else to say when she was about to be executed by someone she trusted who turned out to be a complete sociopath.

But rather than a fatal wound that was delivered to her neck, the girl felt the sharp end of the blade lightly cutting her skin, barely enough to draw blood, from the spot next to her eye. It traced a path down her neck, past her chest and down towards her stomach, leaving a faint red incision. Shakahnna's chest was heaving as her breathing became erratic, especially when she then felt the older man force the tip of the hunting knife into the right side of her waistline, exactly where the scar from the earlier surgery started from.

The teenager didn't even have time to consider biting her tongue because she was screaming in pain as half an inch of metal went into the side of her stomach. Wesker then dug the tip of the hunting knife in a horizontal position, using it to tear her skin along the surgical scar. Even the time she was fighting with the RPD officers when she first woke up in the woods was less painful than having her stomach skinned while she was awake.

Shakahnna had no concept of time at this point because all she could hear was her voice screaming as loudly as she could manage since, even after the hunting knife had been removed, the intense burning sensation kept gripping the lower half of her body.

Unknown to her, the scientist in white had flayed a rectangular-shaped skin from her stomach area that was about a 12 inches long by 4 inches wide. As he placed the hunting knife back in its belt sheath, he proudly looked over his bloody trophy, feeling proud that he had been able to remove the entire thing in one attempt and without having to tear it into smaller pieces.

As blood poured over the young woman's underwear, Wesker ignored the gory mess as well as her screaming and thrashing while he withdrew a 3-inch long cigar cutter. He had no problem placing her right index finger through the gadget because she was still reeling from the previous experience. Roughly slapping both sides of the cigar cutter against each other, he heard a wet ~crack~ as the girl's trigger finger was separated from the rest of her hand. That led to Shakahnna howling once in pain as her entire body went through a muscle spasm even while he kept a hold of her bloodied right hand.

She didn't see the index finger falling on the floor or her antagonist retrieving a pair of pliers because she then passed out, her entire world being surrounded in darkness. But her incessant screams stopped there.


	15. Chapter 15 Out of the frying pan and in...

The first emotion Shakahnna felt was a groggy cloud in her mind as she lazily opened her eyes, her entire body still throbbing with pain from head to toe. She didn't quite know where she was or why she hurt so much, but her attention was soon diverted when she witnessed a sight that she believed was only a hallucination, for it couldn't possibly be real.

From prone position on her back, the teenager saw a ten-foot high glass cylinder that was being lowered from an area past the ceiling. While it was still in motion, she noticed what could only be a monster floating silently inside the cylinder's clear liquid. Its face was dead as it had no lips and carried a big tumor on the left side of its face. But if the monster was dead, then why were there air bubbles rising from its teeth? She thought that to herself before the entire container disappeared through an opening in the floor.

The redhead's attention turned to another side of the large room she was in, noticing Albert Wesker as the older man had his left side turned to her and was looking down at a table that he worked on. It was only then that memories were in her mind, from being abducted to waking up here and being hurt repeatedly.

The scientist didn't notice her waking up, so reasoning that she wasn't going to physically feel worse than she did now, she got up the courage to inform this man that she thought he was a prick. So she raised her voice in an attempt to tell him just that. But instead of clear words emanating from her mouth, she only heard herself groaning incoherently before her head hurt even more and her surroundings faded.

The Umbrella researcher, on the other hand, heard her groan once while he was busy with the task at hand. He turned to his left only in time to see his red-headed subject slipping back into unconsciousness, so he just finished closing the gold and blue jewelry box with the emblems of the sun and the moon on the outside. Smiling in satisfaction, Wesker locked the box itself and then began enfolding it in rainbow-colored wrapping paper. Sealing the edges of the wrapping paper together with adhesive, he finally placed a sticker in the middle of the top surface and then addressed the box to the mayor's natural child along with her parents' home address.

--------------------------------------

The first emotion Shakahnna felt was that she was being floating on air, which was a sensation she realised even before the pain kicked in. But unlike last time, the extreme discomfort was only concentrated around her stomach, hands and face. She tried hard to look past the haze that obscured her vision, and eventually succeeded.

The teenager didn't consider what she saw to be any type of reward because her eyesight was greeted with the image of the ever-present Albert Wesker carrying her prone body in his arms.

"Why can't I move?", she whispered even as she tried to roll away from the current area in an effort to escape him.

It hadn't occurred to her that, even if she had succeeded in rolling past his arms, then she'd simply fall on the hard floor below. But she never got the chance to find that out because the older man had a very good grip on her figure.

Instead of replying, the Umbrella scientist looked down into her eyes, knowing she couldn't see the expression on his face as it was constantly hidden behind the dark glasses. He didn't have to start answering, either, as he then saw her eyes rolling back before her body went limp again.

Wesker continued walking for approximately another minute until he reached his destination, that being a 15-foot by 10-foot concrete room that only had one door to enter or leave it. He had no problem making his way past the doorway before he went inside the enclosed area himself. He first placed the teenager on top of a six feet long and three feet wide stone slab that was jutting out of the wall and had a blanket covering it. Finally releasing the weight off his arms, the researcher then turned away, taking notice that the 5-inch wide drain which was located on the other side of the room was uncovered.

The Umbrella employee then checked the side of the wall that consisted of a thick, bulletproof glass, making sure that it didn't have any new scratches on it since the last time he had been inside this room. Sighing in satisfaction, Wesker looked back down at the prone girl, making sure she was still breathing. Once he noticed the rising and falling of her chest, he could head back towards the open doorway, which was made out of 12-inch thick steel and the same color as the walls inside.

The man in the sunglasses first left the enclosed room and locked the door behind him with the four manual deadbolts, which was designed in that way so as to ensure that it didn't accidentally open in cases of a power failure. He then reached into his lab coat and withdrew his Dictaphone, turning the machine on before he held it close to his mouth with the left hand.

"It's been two hours since the separation of Shakahnna's finger from the rest of the hand", he began giving himself the notes he wanted, "And so far, at least, there has been no sign of regeneration. Subject may require some amount of reprogramming as her compliance levels also aren't currently acceptable. Aside from that, the results of surgery conclude that she's definitely female. Everything is where it should be, thus reproduction will be possible".

"My initial conclusion of the yet currently unknown strain in her system is ongoing, as it's only possible to observe the intricacy of what is built when blood and other samples are extracted. As within minutes of removal from host, it de-evolves to resemble a typical human structure".

--------------------------------

The first emotion Shakahnna felt was that she was no longer confined to the bed she was lying on. Opening her eyes, what appeared to be static appeared in her line of vision. So the teenager yawned as she rubbed both her eyes to clear them away after a few seconds. The clarification came in a short time, allowing her to sit up and look over the room she was lying in. 

It was only a moment after that she noticed all the pain was gone from her body and, if anything, she felt refreshed. The redhead couldn't feel any tenderness from her face, right hand or abdonimal region at all. So realising the change, she looked down at her own stomach and noticed that the skin there had been replaced.

"This is all too fucking weird, and considering my life, that really is saying something", she sighed as she turned her body around till her feet touched the stone floor, "Someone better be explaining what the hell's going on and soon".

Standing up, she felt every muscle in her figure protesting the strain as she clasped her hands behind her back and pulled the shoulders back. The teenager also swung her head on either side of her upper body, enjoying the sensation of finally being able to move as it truly felt like a godsend now.

"So you're awake", Wesker's voice greeted her from everywhere, prompting her to frantically turn around several times before finally accepting the idea that he wasn't there.

"The camera's at the ceiling", the scientist followed through.

The redhead looked up and spotted a video recording device as well as a microphone that would allow an outsider to see everything that happened in the room in addition to communicating with the detainees inside. She was in the process of coming up with something to say when she then saw the researcher's face appear from the other side of the window.

Shakahnna backed as far away from the thick glass as possible as her facial expression revealed the disgust she was feeling. While hunching her shoulders, she bent her left elbow and placed that forearm in front of her chest and the right arm at her midsection.

"Considering what you are, you really have no reason to be that self-conscious", the older man sighed in what she guessed was irritation, "I bet I could tell you more about yourself at this moment that even _you_ know".

"Wesker, I'll be indulging your fucking delusions as soon as you be giving me back my clothes", she hissed, "I'm not having this conversation with you in my fucking underwear".

At the very least, he may have to open the door to give her some items to wear, she reasoned, thus giving her the opportunity to kick him in the teeth again. Except this time, he wouldn't be getting back up since she felt less scared and more confident in her ability to overtake him now that she could move again.

"Very well. Have it your way if it'll get you more interested in important topics", the scientist sighed, leaving her limited line of vision from the other side of the window.

A few seconds passed before the teenager first heard and then saw a hatch opening from the area of the wall below the window. She saw a large white fabric within it, indicating that her hope of having the large metal door being opened wasn't going to happen just now.

Shakahnna walked towards the hatch before she reached down and picked up what she noticed to be a lab coat. It was better than looking like she did now, at least, so she didn't need any convincing to put the white outfit on, buttoning it in several areas at the front. She was just about done when her antagonist's face returned to the window.

"Do you have any idea how much you advanced my field in the last 48 hours alone, miss Warren?", Wesker started talking with the same tone of voice he'd use when addressing someone he was on good terms with.

"I think you be mistaking _me_ for someone who cares", the teenager shot back as she walked back to the area that was farthest from the window and sat down on the floor with her back against the wall.

"Oh, please. Don't pretend you don't know that you're so different and special", the scientist grinned, "I've watched skin, a finger, as well as several teeth and nails rejuvenating themselves on you. And I bet that doesn't even come as a surprise to you, now does it?".

"Maybe, maybe not", the girl placed the back of her head against the wall also, "But this be's where you telled me of your bullshit master plan to sacrifice me in the hopes of passing these genes to everyone else? You know, some ridiculous idea of how one life lost doesn't be too much if countless others can benefit from it, especially when the one that's lost doesn't be yours?".

"Excuse me?", Wesker laughed for the first time since she saw him in this mysterious facility, "I assure you, I'm in no way affiliated with any such pseudo-beneficial scheme. This _is_ being done for a specific reason, but nothing as naïve as your idea of helping society with its many problems. Now, do you wish for me to discuss my findings with you or not? I assure you that it'll lessen your necessary time here if you do".

"Necessary time? That means I get to go once you be's done?", Shakahnna didn't expect the answer to her question to be an affirmative one, nor for him to be honest about it.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, I promise", he didn't surprise her with his answer.

"Why not? Don't be having anything better to do, drive yourself nuts. Oh… wait", she sighed, looking up at the ceiling above the window.

"I still don't know what makes you the unique specimen that's you", the scientist started with the enthusiasm of an artist showing off his most precious work to an audience, "But with the exception of my beautiful tyrant, nothing else comes close. Your body has an extraordinary ability to heal itself but, unexpectedly, it doesn't do so when it knows it's being watched".

He breathed once before continuing.

"Although this _does_ confirm what I had found earlier when I examined a piece of your DNA", Wesker continued, "Initially, your DNA appears to be the exception that it is, but after a short time, it disguises itself as just a run-of-the-mill human. Your body, in turn, does not heal itself while it's being watched and will let your secret be known. Instead, it only healed itself after I left you alone here and it believed there were no witnesses whatsoever, not realizing the complexities of modern technology, of course".

The researcher grinned while pointing at the camera that was in the room as he finished talking, feeling proud that he outsmarted her body's natural instinct to hide its ability from prying eyes.

"Ooooh, congratulations. Aren't you a clever bunny?", Shakahnna remained seated as she sarcastically stated, "You learned something that I woulded probably be'd telling you once the need ariseded, _if_ you had be'd the man you pretended to be instead of the asshole you actually are".

She saw that, for some unknown reason, what she said wiped the smile off his face as his facial expression revealed the anger he suddenly felt.

"That idiot wouldn't have known what to do with you anyway", Wesker hissed in his own turn.

"Who the hell do you be talking about??", an annoyed redhead countered, "Does there be an imaginary friend who sits on your shoulder and pulls your strings or do you just hear voices?".

"All the men in your life are simpletons", the Umbrella employee ignored her remark as he calmed back down, "But regardless, I already sent your parents a message to inform them of where you are, in case they were getting worried".

That got a second smile from the older man, indicating to the teenager that he was up to no good again.

"Fuck you, Wesker", she brushed him off.

"Later, dear heart. We do require someone to breed you with, after all", her antagonist replied, unaffected.

She remembered something from when she woke up that she may be able to use to get him to come into this room. Trying to avoid nausea, she decided to try out her plan. 

"Oh, you wouldn't do that anyway, _Weskie_", Shakahnna grinned back at him, emphasising the term of endearment.

"I told you to not call me that!", the scientist finally seemed to take the bait as he angrily slapped the thick window with his right palm, giving the teenager her first glance at how thick the glass truly was.

"Temper, temper, Weskie", she was going to take this as far as it could go, so she shook her head in mock disapproval.

The Umbrella scientist looked away from her for an instant, visually searching an area below the window before he reached for that spot and pressed a button. The teenager's attention was diverted upwards in her own room as what appeared to be smoke emanated from two of the corners of the ceiling. The substance burned her eyes and made it almost impossible to breathe, making her realize that it was gas. So the girl dropped on her stomach, flat against the floor in an effort to avoid it, silently cursing her antagonist for not falling for her trick and coming inside.

Placing her sleeve in front of the lower half of her face, Shakahnna took in shallow breaths as her eyes stung and watered. Fortunately, the release of gas was stopped after a few seconds and the air soon almost cleared up, leaving only a trace of its presence in the air.

"I told you before that you should play nice. It seems you haven't accepted the inevitable yet", Wesker commented as he looked down at her prone figure through the glass, "But with whatever means necessary, I _will_ make you the first of my line of ultimate weapons. I can take this much longer than you, trust me".

-------------------------------

"Feeling hungry? Because I won't be asking you again for at least another 24 hours", Shakahnna heard her shaded antagonist asking as he stared at her through the same window.

"What's the catch?", she countered as she remained seated in the corner of the fortified room, just next to the door.

"Just trying to be nice", Wesker smirked.

"It doesn't be one of those thingies where I eat the food and my lungs explode, right? I'm sure", the teenager sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

"No, I'd just rather not have you being distracted due to malnourishment. A lot of our earlier tests gave inconclusive results at best when we didn't feed our subjects", the scientist shook his head, "That way, you'll only be passing out when I induce it. It's a control thing".

"Since you're such a _nice_ guy, how about if we go out for pizza? I'll even pay for it", the redhead gave him a mock smile.

"Dear, your choices are take-out or nothing".

"I thought you knew how to treat a lady, Weski… er", Shakahnna corrected the name due to wanting to avoid the temper that could bring another attack of tear gas with it.

"Yes, I do. But unfortunately I don't have the time to stay here while you dine", the researcher's face left the window for an instant as the teenager heard him placing something within the lower hatch.

The girl saw a brown paper bag and a plastic bottle of water appearing in the area below the window before the Umbrella official returned to address her.

"I must go while you're enjoying that meal, but will return as soon as I can", the shaded researcher returned to the glass that served as their communication, "But I assure you, I would much rather be here, miss Warren".

She took her time as she stood up and walked over to the wall behind which he was before retrieving the food. Looking inside the bag, she noticed a large turkey leg along with a pint of white rice. Not surprisingly, there was no cutlery, because she knew she could pick the lock to the massive door with a piece of metal. And, she suspected, Wesker knew that too. Or even if he didn't, he definitely didn't wish to take the chance.

"What? You're not gonna come in here for a goodbye kiss?", she asked as she turned back towards the opposite corner of the room, having to admit that it felt good to finally eat something.

"You're awful brave when you're not tied down to a bed. I'd like to see if that bravado lasts once I return later on tonight", the scientist commented before he left that area, keeping the redhead to guess for herself what his future plans for her were.

Obviously, the older man wasn't thinking of doing anything positive, so the alarm she was feeling compelled her to try to do anything in her favor since her antagonist didn't return to address her.

--------------------------------

The bottle of water, pint of rice and drumstick were devoured within a minute, leaving Shakahnna to concentrate on the task of trying to leave this place before the man who most likely intended to keep her here till she died returned. She didn't have the time to panic and, although she wanted to put her head against her lap before crying all the anxiety out of her system, she knew that every minute was precious. For starters, both the glass at the window and the metal door were approximately a foot thick each, so she knew that even she couldn't punch or kick through it. With that in mind, the teenager brushed her face and then the top of her head with the right hand.

"Oh, god, I can't be here!", she surveyed the gas emitters at the ceiling as well as the drain at the floor, noticing that the former was too high and the latter was too small for her to use.

Shakahnna also wondered if this might've been Wesker's attempt to watch her reaction as he intentionally gave her the opportunity to escape, only to have an ambush waiting once she reached the outside of the room. Maybe he electrified the door, and even if she did get out, maybe the entire place was full of death-traps. 

She had to calm down, she knew that. For starters, the girl resolved to not end up dying like a rat in a cage. Also, the psychopath she was dealing with was clever, but there must've been something he missed after the kidnapping he pulled off. There had to be other people about here somewhere, as electricity was used in this place, and considering how tidy it was, she doubted that Wesker himself maintained it. But what if all those other individuals that this bastard was working with were also in on the plan to experiment on her?

The girl wasn't getting anywhere like this. She had to come up with a plan, an edge that her tormentor wouldn't expect. Considering he already knew of her regenerative powers and powerful physical strength, that wasn't going to be easy. But then again, she realized that she had done something that even surprised her back when she was being detained nearly two years ago, albeit by a much nicer establishment than this one.

I wonder if Chino noticed that I'm gone, she thought silently before reprimanding herself for wasting time.

But then again, Shakahnna also remembered what she had done back when she had originally met the young man and the bars of the cell room were separating them. That cell door had opened in response to her touch, and even though she didn't know how it had happened or why that ability had dissipated over time, she knew there was more to herself than even she could describe at the moment. The fact that she had such an easy time getting past Chino's apartment door was still testament to the remnants of those mysterious abilities, so she was damned if she wasn't going to use every bit of those talents for her behalf. And if Wesker did happen to be waiting outside, then it was still better to confront him there than being locked up in here and waiting to be gassed before she woke up strapped to another one of those damn tables.

For starters, it's true that her unlocking abilities had waned over time, but she also guessed that the locking mechanism for this door here was much simpler than the one used for the jail cell at RPD headquarters. That's because the lack of keyholes from her end of the door led her to believe that it was only kept in a locked position with deadbolts. So perhaps there was a chance for her to repeat the same trick she instinctively used to unlock the jail cell before. But even if so, then the deadbolts would be on the other side of the massive entrance, and that meant that a foot of steel was standing in the way of her actually touching them. She didn't know why, but she knew she had to touch the locking mechanism before it was undone. So with that objective in mind, the teenager set about to try to find a method to do just that.

There was nothing useful on the slab of concrete that served as her bed. No objects could be found on the bare floor either. Thus, Shakahnna's attention was turned to the remnants of the quick lunch she had been afforded. The bone left behind from the turkey leg was approximately the same size as the width of the glass, but also much too thick to be placed within the narrow space between the door and the wall that was next to it. The redhead knew what she had to do to correct that situation, so she braced herself to feel a lot of pain as she held the turkey bone horizontally in front of her mouth. 

Shakahnna bit the bone itself several times, ignoring the protests that her teeth were giving in the way of pain. It took her about a minute to finally make the first crack within the bone, thus splitting the end of it. Once that separation was done, it was easier to follow through and create a much thinner bone out of the original one that was in the paper bag. 

The girl retained the slender piece of bone as she discarded the rest on the floor. She then knelt in front of the steel door itself, making herself as comfortable as possible before she tried to concentrate on opening the lock via her personal concept of mind over matter.

"It worked before. Please, please let it be worked now", she thought out loud as she placed the thin piece of bone inside the crack, between the end of the door and the beginning of the wall.

She felt that the tip of her instrument came to a halt at one point even though she could drive it deeper into the crack at other locations, thus indicating where the deadbolt was. Keeping it in place while the bone extended from her fingertips to the deadbolt itself, she closed her eyes and wished that the lock would become undone, not worrying that what she expected went against all the laws of physics that she knew. But then again, the laws of physics or any other science couldn't explain how her ribs could heal and even her severed fingers could regenerate themselves.

Nothing happened for several seconds, making the redhead sigh in frustration as she opened her eyes.

"God, it's not gonna work", she whispered to herself, finding it harder to avoid the impending feeling of helplessness, "Chino, what am I gonna do?".

She wasn't sure why she addressed the young man, but only felt the desire to do so as she knew she was trying to escape to go to him first and foremost. But regardless of her reasoning, the redhead's eyes and mouth opened wider when she heard a loud ~click~ on the other side of the door.

Shakahnna pushed the turkey bone further in, and then gave a short laugh when the tip didn't meet a metallic barrier on the other end, meaning that the deadbolt had been retracted. There was no knob from her end, so this door must've been one that was pushed open from the inside. Placing both her palms against its surface, she shoved it with as much force as she could muster, only to hear other bolts that were keeping the door locked in addition to the one that she had undone.

The teenager wasn't going to be discouraged, not when she had done so much progress. So remaining on her knees, she tested the area between the door and the wall to see that there were three more deadbolts that were still in place and needed to be overcome. It was just a matter of her touching those three locks in succession, and each time closing her eyes and thinking of getting home. 

Each effort rewarded her with a fresh clicking sound and, after the fourth one, Shakahnna placed the thin bone on the floor next to her calf after opening her eyes. She then rested both palms on the surface of the door again and, holding her breath, gave a push.

The girl's face brightened when she felt the massive door being opened and a quiet area greeting her outside the room. She did her best to ignore the loud beating of her heart as she excitedly stood back up, but still not wanting to get her hopes up as she didn't wish to jinx herself. Once outside the room, she pushed the door back to a closed position and re-locked the four deadbolts. That way, she reasoned she would still appear to be there from the point of view of anyone who couldn't see the inside of the room via close circuit TV and who didn't look through the window.

---------------------------------

This place looked futuristic, more like what she'd imagine a space station to be designed as. Everything was lit up as strange lights were covering machines she had never seen before, and that constant humming noise was always emanating from the mechanical appliances. And regardless of where she ran to try to find an area that was quiet, it seemed that some machine or another was always within earshot to make sure that the noises never left her alone.

Shakahnna wanted to take a look around, her curiosity begging to be satisfied as to the identity of this environment. But at the same time, she had no idea how long Wesker would be gone, so escaping this place was the first and foremost requirement. Once she had found her way out of this hell and back into Racoon City, she could've made sure to figuratively handcuff herself to Chino while seeing that the psychopath in the sunglasses never bothered anyone she knew again. Except for the high probability of her opponent always carrying that handgun of his, he wouldn't be a danger to her since she'd always be looking out for him and ensuring he never snuck up on her again.

The teenager made her way from the area where she used to be held to the beginning of a second room, and saw that the latter area was larger, though still droning with mechanical noises while she was the only person there. The rectangular-shaped environment had computers, monitors and other machines that she didn't recognize lining up all four walls, with a metal door that was available straight ahead. Stepping down once, Shakahnna went through the entryway that separated this new area from the old one, noticing a table with blood on it.

She guessed that it was the metal bed which was used to keep her in place while she was being cut open. So she started being overcome by the same sense of anger that had afflicted her earlier, only to have that emotion withdrawing from her mind when she looked deeper into the rectangular room. That's because the redhead noticed the two rows of glass cylinders that were full of clear liquid, the first row containing eight such containers while the second held twelve of them. A gasp escaped from her lips as she stepped closer to them, coming within an arm's reach of the cylinder closest to her. 

The teenager didn't have the time to feel rage any more because she realized that there were so many others in this damn place who were even worse off than her, as proven because the cylinders contained an unconscious creature inside the watery substance. Some of them appeared human while others who were bigger masses of flesh and organs obviously were not. Surveying the area, Shakahnna noticed that the vertical containers were full of gross abuses of nature, even though she still didn't see the giant monster who was being transported from one floor to another while she was slipping in and out of consciousness. Also, there was one cylinder that only held the liquid substance, so the girl involuntarily shivered at the thought that it might be there to serve as her final resting place.

"I'm gonna kill you, Wesker", she whispered a promise to him as she uneasily walked past the twenty grisly containers and made her way to the only door she saw to get out of here.

Shakahnna was disappointed to see that there were no handles on the steel door, so she had no idea how to open it.

She had to think. So she began turning around, surveying her entire surroundings and wondering if any of parts there could help her make the door be functional. Her eyes caught sight of a television screen that was to the right side of the entrance she had used to come in here. Stepping closer towards it, she noticed that the colour TV was showing an image of the room she was stuck in a few minutes ago.

"Ahh, so this be's where you were, you fucking snake?", she addressed her absent antagonist again, realizing he was watching her from here until she woke up on the stone slab, "Which is very, very creepy, may I just add".

But if Wesker could watch her from here, maybe the keyboard that was attached to a monitor near the television screen could help her find some answers. So the teenager remained on her feet, constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure that the door on the other side of the room wasn't being opened, as she placed her fingers on top of the keyboard itself.

"You sure didn't be expecting someone to be able to viewed this, did you?", the teenager smiled as she saw that an icon on the monitor was named 'Doors'. 

Taking a hold of the mouse with her right hand, she guided the cursor towards the icon and double clicked on it. The redhead was rewarded with a friendly, whirring noise from behind, so she turned around in time to see the door leading out of this nightmarish area automatically sliding aside to reveal a dark hallway behind it.

Shakahnna prepared herself for anything, at least anything that she could imagine, as she readied her arms in a fighting stance and slowly made her way towards the dark exit before walking through it. Thankfully, she didn't see anyone or anything as the dark hallway turned right after half a dozen steps. Rounding the corner, the teenager saw an elevator that was about ten steps away, so she made her way towards it and pressed the only button that was next to the lift in order to summon the transport.

The elevator doors opened instantly, the white artificial light that emanated from inside being much friendlier to her eyes than the previous blue one she had been forced to put up with so far. Getting inside, the teenager didn't know what to expect, so she pressed the first blank button that was over the letter B, hoping it led her to a first floor exit to this place. She stood with her back against the side of the elevator while hearing it move, so as to not be immediately spotted if Wesker or anyone else was at the floor above. After a few seconds, the elevator stopped and the doors opened again, this time showing her another hallway that was stretching for about twenty yards to her left, with the bluish light always there.

At least no one else was around, she thought to herself as she exited the elevator and began stalking through this new floor, always looking for a way out of this mysterious building. The first door she came across was to her left, and it was made out of regular wood for a change instead of steel, which was at least a step in the direction of normalcy, she sighed to herself. She was busy taking a hold of the doorknob, trying to open the entrance without being conspicuous to anyone who might've been inside, even though she noticed that she could've passed for a scientist anyway. That was due to the lab coat she had on, as long as whoever she ran into didn't notice her bare feet, that is. Or at least didn't notice them before she reached him or her and knocked that person out.

Alas, this wooden door was also locked, but obviously wasn't beyond her ability to kick through it, if she didn't mind leaving evidence of a break-in to whomever may be around here later on, though. But even as she was pondering the situation, the girl heard the footsteps of about five to ten individuals approaching from a nearby hallway that was intersecting hers to the right.

Shakahnna reacted instinctively, not wishing to place her own fighting skills against several individuals who may be armed and, worse yet, may be able to trigger the alarm to her escape. So she turned back towards the wooden door that was next to her and twisted the knob to it, not feeling surprised that the lock was undone and the door now opened right away. 

The redhead bolted inside the medium-sized room, closing the door behind her as she regained her breath. The place was void of people, but also appeared to have been the center of a major fight or at least seemed to have been trashed on purpose. On one side of the area was a large section of filing cabinet drawers. On the other side was a giant bookshelf that spanned from one end of the room to the other. In the middle of the space was an overturned round table with a handful of chairs that were knocked down around it.

Before spending too much attention on those details, however, Shakahnna spun around and quickly locked the door behind her, realizing that the footsteps which were just outside in the hallway had come close to the door she had just used. She held her breath as she heard that those people were not walking away, either back to where they came from or heading towards the elevator. Instead, the individuals outside the room seemed to just wander back and forth in the hallway she had been in a moment ago.

The redhead breathed heavily as she walked away from the door and headed deeper into the room. She was going to have to wait a few minutes to see if the individuals outside departed and, if they did not, she would plan an attack to try to incapacitate them without setting off an alarm. So with that time to spare, the young woman looked over the shelves of drawers that lined up one whole side of this place. There were approximately forty vertical metallic surfaces that could be pulled out before revealing the files that they contained. Each drawer had an alphabetical letter on it, ranging from A to Z, and some letters were written on two consecutive surfaces.

"Maybe this is personnel", the teenager thought out loud as she reached for the drawer with the letter W on its front.

The girl reasoned that, if this giant filing cabinet offered information about the sociopath who pretended to be a cop, then it may help her understand why he's after her, as well as who Wesker works for and even who she herself is. Plus, she wondered if the older man was an unnaturally different human being like she was. If that was the case, a lot more caution would have to be applied. 

Pulling the cabinet towards her, she noticed that it was locked. So she grunted in effort once as she pulled harder, breaking the lock and yanking the approximately fifty files that were behind that drawer towards her. Shakahnna then used her left index finger to pass through the last names that were there, slowly making her way towards the scientist's last name. But before reaching the name 'Wesker', she noticed a file whose sticker identified it as being that of 'Warren, Shakahnna', which grabbed her attention first. So the redhead excitedly pulled the file out before she opened it and laid it on top of her right hand.

The first page had her picture from the RPD mug shot, along with the address to the Warrens' mansion and the address to Chino's apartment. That made her worry even more as she now knew that the predators who were in charge of this dangerous organization also had the young man in their sights, possibly due to his involvement with her.

"Opinion is mixed in regards to this specimen", she read the first page of her file out loud to herself, "Some individuals at WU, whatever the hell that be's, believe her to be a tyrant. Due to the risk of exposure to the public, suspected tyrant was to be eliminated. Cleaners were dispatched on 12/17/95, but were never heard from again. Belief is that suspected tyrant eliminated cleaners".

Shakahnna looked up from the file for an instant, remembering the date as being the same one when she was in custody at the RPD basement and had what she thought was a nightmare of six individuals who had tried to kill her. After talking to Chino, she had been convinced that her attackers and their weapons melting into the floor after she killed them was only proof that it was just a dream. But this printed paperwork now proved her false, as that attack and her response to the attackers had been very much real.   
She looked back down and continued reading.

"Suspected tyrant is currently in residence with Warren, Elena, at her request (see personnel file)", Shakahnna followed through, "That bitch! _She_ be's part of this. She knewed all this time and never…. That fucking bitch! Well done Elena, just when I be'd thinking you couldn't get much worse than adopting me cause it maked you look good. What the hell be's wrong with this place! Pfft anyway… Suspected tyrant has close relationship with as above mentioned officer Chisholm, Steven (not noteworthy except for relationship). Extreme distress at suspected tyrant's relationship with civilian Chisholm. Attempts made for removal of this relationship so as to ensure that suspected tyrant does not mate with civilian while not under watch".

The young woman's jaw dropped as she finished reading that last part.   
"They think I be a slut!", she exclaimed before resuming the reading.

"Wesker, Albert (see confidential file) believes her to be the most advanced biological weapon. His proof still lacks. Wesker, Albert's request to have control of suspected tyrant has not been approved yet". 

That was the end of the page-long text that accompanied her picture. So after making sure there was nothing else on the other side of the paper, Shakahnna closed her file as she tried the calm the rage within her. Contrary to her expectations, this organization that Wesker and Elena were apparently part of didn't offer any more insight about her mysterious past. But she now knew that it was her unnatural powers that had prompted Elena to adopt her as well as inducing Wesker to kidnap her, perhaps against his employers' wishes. The teenager wasn't sure about that last part. What she did for a certainty, though, was that this organization had its claws everywhere, from Wesker in the police to Elena and maybe Michael Warren in the mayor's office.

But at least Chino and Donnelly appeared to have been genuine friends instead of plants to keep an eye on her due to her abilities, if she could call Donnelly a friend, that is. She then opened the file back up to pay closer attention to two small parts of it. She noticed that while there was nothing here on Chino, which was definitely a weight off her mind, there was a file about her adoptive mother, who incidentally was going to meet the business end of the teenager's foot if Shakahnna ever saw her again. There was also something about Wesker himself, but his file was listed under the confidential section instead of the personnel one, and the redhead didn't know why that was, especially since they were both mentioned to be employees of this horror circus.

So replacing her document back into the drawer, the young woman snooped around that same area to find Elena's file, but then gave up when she saw that her adoptive mother's paperwork wasn't there at all. This was obvious when she had gone past the section of the drawer that started with 'Wa…' and began tracing through the section that carried the 'We…'s'. But right there was a folder identified as 'Wesker, Albert'.

"So this is the confidential files?", she asked herself as she withdrew that one, wondering why her antagonist was listed here with her while Elena, as an employee, was not.

Opening the document, the teenager saw that the first page consisted of two pictures of the older man, which by itself was strange, she thought. The first photo was of the older man in a military uniform and his arms casually crossed in front of his chest, the sunglasses always on his face. The second picture consisted of him dressed in a white lab coat as his hands were comfortably in the coat pockets, the same shades covering his eyes.

"This should be making for an interesting read", she uttered to herself as she began reviewing whatever information she could find on her tormentor, "Wesker, Albert began work at WU due to being headhunted as a child protégé after finishing his doctrine at the age of 16. His training consisted of the usual Marcus regimen for all WU recruits, alongside Birkin, William (see personnel file). Birkin? That little _nerd's_ be's in on this too? God, who next? I'm gonna find that uncle Brian's part of this shit too! Their filthy paws be everywhere".

Shakahnna sighed as she remarked to herself before continuing.

"Birkin, William is slightly more advanced when it comes to IQ, and Wesker, Albert is ahead in practicality. Wesker, Albert was an exceptional employee until before the assassination of Dr. Marcus (see personnel file). He was the perfect recruit until his unexpected reaction to his first viewing of a human experiment", the teenager gasped at reading the last two words, though she shouldn't have been surprised after what she had experienced in this hell.

It was the casual way this organization mentioned human experiments that caused the hairs on her body to stand on end.

"Due to his inability to deal with what had been witnessed, Wesker, Albert developed a secondary personality via dissociate identity disorder", the redhead stopped reading for an instant before she looked up from the file and stared ahead of her.

Shakahnna began laughing hysterically to herself, not even caring that she might've been heard by anyone who's outside this room. Her maniacal laugher without mirth echoed in the room all around her.

"I didn't even be noticing!", she blurted out between fits of laughter, "How could I not have known? It be'd _so_ obvious, it couldn't have be'd anything else! And I didn't know. That be's why calling him Weskie bothered him so and that be's the idiot that he keeps referring to and, oh god what am I going to do?".

It took her several moments to calm down before she could resume her examination of the document that was held open.

"How can I be killing him now?", she asked herself with a more serious tone before she started reading again, "However, the split proved to be beneficial because the number of personalities is much lower that expected. While DID usually occurs because of childhood abuse, it was not so in this case as regular DID results in many different personalities, the average being eight, many of which are children. In the case of Wesker, Albert, none of these rules appear to apply as the break occurred so late in his life and thus the number of his personalities is a constant two, at least that we are aware of. Holy shit… The host personality had issues with human experimentation, but since his secondary personality came along so late and was surrounded by colleagues at WU, the latter's moral system or ethics code has never developed. Thus making him such a valuable asset for WU as he has absolutely no scruples about what he can do and has no conscience that WU is able to find".

Shakahnna had to breathe once as she kept finding out more about her antagonist.

"You be telling _me_", she commented, "The secondary personality has requested that the host personality be placed within the WU security branch in his effort to keep the host from meddling with his research. Host personality fit into WU security easily because of his past desires to be part of a police department, which failed due to his psychological evaluation. It should also be noted that, while the host personality excels in intelligence, his IQ is nowhere near the genius level that the secondary personality possesses".

The teenager had to turn the first page to continue reading on the second one behind it. 

"So all this time I _be'd_ around a real person. It didn't be an act and I wasn't played. God, what am I gonna do?", she repeated to herself while going into page 2, realizing this human monster would've been easier to fight if he had simply been pretending to be a good person while a member of the RPD.

"While the secondary personality knows about the presence of the host personality, the opposite is not true as the host does not know of the existence of the secondary personality, which caters to WU. There have been several attempts by the secondary personality to suppress the host personality, but every one of them has failed. The only drug that was created by WU which caused an effective result made the opposite happen, suppressing the secondary personality and allowing the host to be in control all the time. The existence of this Unetchloride is thus incentive for the secondary personality to abide by WU's rules and regulations, and it's usually the only threat that will invoke any kind of reaction from him", she continued reading, "The host personality also does not know of WU's true activities, believing his work to be one of security for a large government-funded agency only. He believes WU is working on legitimate federal government level and the city government needs not be aware of what's being done for the sake of national security. So he has been assigned on a diversion mission among the RPD in an effort to keep the city police from getting suspicious of WU activities. It's thus imperative that the host personality never becomes aware of WU's true undertakings so as to secure his continued cooperation. It should also be noted that, while both personalities have proven to be efficient at their task, the first even without knowing what the task is, both their loyalty is becoming suspect as of late. Since the introduction of a suspected tyrant, Warren, Shakahnna (see confidential file), both host and secondary personalities have been causing vexation to WU management. The host personality has thwarted attempts by WU to find subjects for T-virus testing. T-virus? What the fuck's that? Complaints have also been received from various WU members, both inside and outside the facilities, that they had been assaulted by the host personality. Huh, so he _does_ be doing the right things after all. Can't say I blame anyone for wanting to beated up the people from this fucking cess pool. The secondary personality, in his own turn, has, at repeated times, gone against WU orders due to his desire to experiment on the suspected tyrant Warren, Shakahnna (see confidential file), on whom a permanent decision has not been made yet".

That was the end of the second page as well as the file on Wesker, so the teenager closed the document as she began replacing it in the drawer.

"I guess he be'd tooked care of that permanent decision on his boss' behalf", she commented to herself with a disgusted expression.

Not caring any longer that signs of her intrusion in this room were apparent, the redhead didn't bother pushing the withdrawn metal drawer set back into its proper compartment. Leaving it outside, she decided to leave this place and continue to search for a way out of this hellhole before trying to come up with the proper beatings for Elena and Birkin and how to get her hands on the drug to suppress Wesker's psychotic second personality. 

Breaking the news to Wesker the RPD captain, should she get the chance to communicate with him, was going to be heart breaking. But first, she had to get out of here. 

The teenager placed her ear against the surface of the door and waited. Half a minute went by with her hearing nothing from the other side of the wooden entrance, so whoever used to be there was probably gone by now. Opening the door just a crack, Shakahnna peeked out, trying to determine if it was safe to exit. Keeping her body pressed tightly against the wall, she slipped out of the temporary safety of the locked office, all the time trying to visually comb every part of the intersection of two hallways that greeted her.

Shakahnna gasped when she saw half a dozen more of the creatures that the printed report had described as being 'cleaners' were loitering in front of the elevator she had used to reach this floor. The six human-like creatures turned their attention towards her from several yards away, with two of them even walking in her direction in a slow manner. She saw that these cleaners were not carrying weapons like their predecessors had when they attacked her within the RPD holding cell, but that didn't reduce the anxiety she was currently feeling as the redhead turned into her fighting stance. But instead of rushing towards her, the two cleaners simply walked past her, as if they heard her movement but didn't even care, even while the other four creatures remained standing aimlessly in front of the elevator.

"OK, I don't know what you guys be doing, and I don't cared, but hey keep it up", she whispered to them as she easily slipped past.

"They don't be human, not with the melting thingie", she thought to herself, trying to make sense of the situation she had just witnessed as she proceeded through the first hallway that led about twenty steps further down, "With nobodies to push their buttons they be probably just like bombs that haven't been activated yet. But that leads to the problem of – where be the bigwigs who activated them last time?".

The teenager made her way to the end of that hallway, still having more questions in her mind than answers, and came upon a set of four stairs that was leading downward. She swiftly climbed down them and came across a large steel door. Shakahnna wasn't sure if it was unlocked or not, or even if she could kick it open if it was the former. An 18-inch long vertical handle was protruding from the right side of it, so the redhead gripped it and pulled the door towards her, seeing that the steel entrance easily opened.

Shakahnna looked over the new area, guessing that it was where the furnace was kept, as heat waves radiated throughout the large red-colored room. She also glimpsed something that scuttled between one generator and another. The teenager wasn't sure what she had seen, as it was perhaps nothing. But then again, considering what this crazy place was like, she wasn't in the mood to take any chances when she didn't believe it'd find an exit for her. And since the room was full of generators and obviously where the electricity from this place was coming from, so it wasn't her coveted exit.

Closing the door, Shakahnna turned back around and headed left into the second hallway that intercepted the first one. She walked about a dozen steps before spotting a second steel door at her right. She carefully gripped the doorknob to it and twisted it clockwise, only to have it come off the door in her hand. The teenager noticed that the entire door itself was rusted and, considering she had to pull it open after the knob had been removed, she wasn't getting to see what lay behind this entryway.

She continued down this second hallway, finding one perpendicular corridor that led to her right, a group of crates, and then a second one that pointed into the same direction about twenty steps later, signaling the end of this particular pathway. There was a giant fan within the wall to her left at the beginning of the second hallway that led to her right. Just when she was confused as far as which area to head to, she heard a barrage of footsteps that were heading towards her from around the first pathway. That was followed by moaning, whether it be human or animal, she couldn't tell.

The teenager wasn't going to find out who or what could be making noise like that, even if they weren't reaching around the corner to be seen by her because of the slow pace the unknown creatures were moving at. So the sound of more possible aggressors convinced her to run forward, past the barrage of crates that lined the wall to her right, until she came upon the large fan that whirred air against her head from the left, brushing her hair in several directions. The redhead then took the way to her own right once she came upon the second dark hallway and followed it through to the end, till she reached the end of that path also.

Swinging her head around, she saw a metal door to her left, a see-through fence door directly in front of her and then yet another dark hallway to her right. Through the fence, Shakahnna could see that a staircase was leading upwards, thus that might've been her way to an exit, finally. So she decided to follow in that direction by pulling the fence door open. Past that door, the redhead followed the fifteen stone steps until she reached yet another dark corridor at the top end, which was leading to the left.   
Stepping into the dark hallway, the young woman turned back around by habit and took a glance at the beginning of the staircase that was in front of the fence door she had used to come up. She gasped as she spotted the shadow outlines of what had to be at least five people. Wesker, or someone else, must've rang the alarm after her escape, she guessed. But why did they move so slowly?

Shakahnna didn't know and didn't care. All she wanted to do was get the hell out of here and find out the answer to these questions later. Moving on, the girl saw that this first pathway led further ahead while a second corridor intercepted it at the left. Nothing was seen at the end of either hallway, but she heard faint moans coming out of the dark end of this first passage, so no way was she going to head in that direction to find out why that was.

"Who the hell does Wesker be employing?", Shakahnna asked herself as she hurried towards her left.

She was jogging down the thirty yards of the dark corridor, planning to turn to her left since it led there. But before she reached the end of this hallway, the teenager spotted several more people appearing from around that corner and slowly coming towards her with their arms extended. So she stopped rushing forward and instinctively raised her arms in a fighting stance.

"I don't wanna hurt you guys. So just please be gettin the helled out of my way and let me…", she uttered before stopping her statement.

There was something wrong with how they were reacting to her, mainly that they didn't seem to hear anything she said. The men only kept advancing towards her, and it was only when they were a few yards away that the girl's mouth dropped open.

How were these men walking? They looked to be rotting, as if they had leprosy but worse, with skin that was half gone from their arms and faces. 

"What did he _do_ to you?", Shakahnna instinctively backed away, a frightened look on her face as she counted about ten of these inhuman creatures in front of her.

One pseudo-person in the group casually bent down and vomited, a mixture of yellow bile and black blood spilling out of his mouth and onto the floor, before the others in the monstrous cluster just walked over the mess.

"Fuck…, I'm so so _sorry_", the teenager shook her head, placing her own left hand in front of her mouth to resist the urge to throw up herself as she continued walking backwards towards where she came from.

It was only then that she jumped due to feeling two sets of arms that grabbed her around the shoulders as well as what she thought were claws gripping her stomach. Shakahnna turned to her right and screamed as she realized she was directly in front of a second group of creatures who appeared to be just like the ones she was trying to evade.

Had she been thinking straight, she might've been able to deal with them properly, twisting arms and punching faces in an effort to elude the second bunch of mindless antagonists. But being caught off guard, she still wasn't finished screaming as she saw the nearest creature bring his putrid visage towards her face before he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck.

Shakahnna felt excruciating pain due to the wound even as a second walking corpse bit her right shoulder. She felt her legs going numb as she began to topple backwards under their weight. The last sight she saw was yet another creature who was on his stomach as he gripped her ankle and bit it at the same time, crimson fluid jetting out of her neck, shoulder and lower leg at the same time. She collapsed on the floor and could still hear herself screaming uselessly as dozens of undead men swarmed all over her. The teenager sensed her heart beating for the last time before she felt nothing at all as the wretched scavengers' teeth began to meet with her bones.


	16. Chapter 16 Countdown to Hell, Part 1

Authors Note: Thank you much to Tony, Jheti, Snow-flake and Captain for your continued support. 

July 24, 1998, 10:04AM

"RPD", officer Donnelly greeted whoever was on the other end of the phone while he was on his feet.

"Eric?", officer Chisholm asked as he was standing at the payphone, the receiver pressed against his left ear while he kept his hand over the right one, needing to filter out the background noise to hear his partner's voice.

"Dude? Where _are_ you? We started here ten minutes ago", the older man inquired.

"I need you to tell the sarge that I'm taking a sick day, that I won't be coming in today", the rookie informed him, talking in a throaty voice.

"That's not the answer to my question, dude. Where are you at?", the more experienced cop leaned against his desk, not liking where this conversation was headed.

"Out by the Warrens' mansion", Chino stated, making his partner cringe.

"Oh man! Dude, I don't need this. And you know what? Neither do you. Get back in here, please. You come in now, they shouldn't notice you're late".

"I'm not coming in!", the rookie hissed back, "There's something wrong in that place, and they know where she is! All I heard was so much bullshit, and it was the third, _third_ damn time I visited that place and all they give me is…".

"Dude, dude!", the older man interrupted the young man's rant as he sat down at his desk, "What the hell are you talking about. Calm down first, OK?".

"It's been over a week, Eric! And nothing from Shak, not a word", Chino finally explained, trying hard to keep his anger under control, "I came here for the third damn time this morning, asked that ASSHOLE mayor of ours what the hell was going on. You know what he says? You know what that bastard tells me? That she's just visiting his fucking brother down in another state, that she needed to get away from ME because I was clinging! It was only a sympathy thing from her end and that's why she was hanging around me all this time. That FUCK!".

"Dude, breathe for me", Donnelly suggested, feeling glad when the young man on the other end of the phone seemed to comply.

"It's just funny how that fuck didn't mention any of this to his butler or even Shak's sister, since they had NO fucking idea where she was", Chino picked up almost on cue, "And that little blonde bitch. She knows something. I've seen her react all nervous when she saw me walking in, but she didn't say anything".

"Which bitch are you talking about, dude?", his partner interjected.

"Joanne! She just darted off into another room when the butler guy was leading me to Warren's office. And after I leave that asshole's office to leave, I hear her crying. I don't know why, but she knows something, dude. I gotta talk to her about this".

"Chino, this _ain't_ a good idea. Don't be doing anything rash", Donnelly sighed, "Look, I'm worried too. You're right that it doesn't sound like her to at least not call you if she _did_ go to visit some relative of his. But you've been going on no food and no sleep that _I_ know of. Why don't you come here, and after our shift, we'll treat this like a regular missing person's case. Maybe even try to get a warrant signed by a judge to search that mansion of theirs. Once we got that, they won't be able to close the door in our face, right?".

No reply from the more unstable person on the other side of the phone.

"Right?", the older man repeated.

Still nothing.

"Dude, that way it's either he tells us where she is, and if there _is_ some foul play here, we'll have our detectives looking into it as such. Play by the book, right?", Donnelly sighed again, the lack of answers from officer Chisholm making him feel tired even before his mandatory eight hours on the job started.

"What if Shak doesn't have the time for all that?", Chino finally blurted out.

"What other choice _is_ there, Steve?", his partner whispered into the receiver.

"Just tell the sarge I won't be in, dude. I ain't leaving here till that blonde bitch comes out and I'm gonna _make_ her tell me what's up", the less experienced cop shot back, having more resolve in his current objective than Donnelly knew was good for him.

"But what if she doesn't come out today at all? You're gonna sit out there all…", the older man stated before he heard the phone on the other side of the conversation going dead, "Dude?".

Unknown to him, the rookie officer had abruptly hung up the phone because he caught sight of Joanne Warren walking past the security guard at the front gate of the mansion as she then turned onto the sidewalk. The young man quickly walked towards her from about fifty yards away, finally jogging across the street to catch up to the blonde teenager who was dressed in cream hipsters and a sleeveless black turtleneck while she carried a shopping bag in her right hand. 

Hearing him running towards her from behind, Joanne turned around and instinctively backed away for a pair of steps due to the sight of the dishevelled older man coming straight in her direction. It took the blonde several seconds to recognize the person who accosted her, so she then stopped in place, almost feeling relieved to see him there.

"I know you know where Shak is", Chino began talking even before he stopped moving towards her, "And I don't give a damn if you're a girl and half my size. If you don't tell me where she is, I'm gonna beat the shit out of you".

The Warrens' natural daughter looked him over, not appearing as nervous as he thought she should have been. It was only then that she used her left hand to wipe half her face, as if to dry the last remnant of a tear that was there.

"That's very good. But before you go all caveman on me, it may interest you to know that I was leaving home to come to talk to _you_", she stated, confident that whatever she said would calm him down.

"You… You what?", the cop shook his head, "Then why weren't you talking to me when I was screaming at your old man for five minutes back there?".

He pointed back in the general direction of the mansion as he finished.

"Because, genius, daddy told me specifically that I wasn't to talk to you. To you or to a couple of other cops that I've seen at home", the teenager informed him, "You have _no_ idea how much trouble I'd get into if I came into his office and told you what you wanted. Why I had to lie just now and tell daddy that I'm going to the mall to clear my head. But…".

She stopped talking midsentence.

"But what?", Chino followed through, "Come here".

He took a hold of her arm and led her further down the sidewalk, just to reduce the odds that anyone from the mansion might see them together by accident.

"I just …don't like how mommy and daddy are handling this", the girl finally explained, reaching into the shopping bag with her left hand.

She withdrew a blue and gold jewellery box with one hand, her face scrunching up with aversion as she tried to keep the box as far away from her own body as possible while carefully handing it to the young man.

"That I was so easily able to steal this is proof that mommy and daddy just aren't giving this issue the whole attention it deserves. Someone has Shak and this…", she sighed, her face revealing a sad expression, "Just be careful when you open it, OK? It's disgusting. I just can't understand how they could say that the police shouldn't be called after I got that. I _know_ they've been on the phone with whoever sent this vile thing. Just…".

She trailed off, looking towards the horizon.

"They can't hate her _that_ much, can they?", she finally uttered.

"So what's in here?", Chino took the box and began opening it, and only got about halfway before he heard himself gasping and let the blue and gold container fall on the concrete ground by his feet. 

His bloodshot eyes expanding to big black circles, his skin became a sickly pallor emphasising the purple bags beneath them. He kept watching the box even as it broke open, the cleanly sliced index finger, large patch of human skin, half a dozen ripped finger nails and several bloody teeth spilling out onto the sidewalk.

"You OK?", Joanne's eyes began to water even as she kept looking back and forth between the box that was by their feet and the officer's agape expression.

+++++++++++++++++++

July 24, 1998, 11:14AM

"Where is she? Where in the world is agent Chambers?", captain Wesker sighed as he continued rubbing his forehead while seated at the desk within his office.

"My god, this is annoying", the uniformed officer stood up, stretching his arms behind him. 

He then proceeded out of the office, intent on going for a walk for the sake of relieving the cabin fever he began to experience less than half an hour after reporting to work. This was supposed to be a routine day where only a massive amount of paperwork was done. No spying for Umbrella, no worrying about the crime rate, except maybe to make plans to go bother vice-president Claymont once his shift was over to inquire the status of their employer's hunt for the cerberus dog. The only plan was to chip away at the mountain of documents that constantly sat on the surface of his desk, which was simple enough. So why did he feel so very tired after he had come straight from home, after several hours of sleep?

Shaking his head in an effort to clear it, the RPD captain proceeded towards the workstation of the only person within this building he could easily talk to. He hadn't heard anything back from Shakahnna Warren, due to the secretary's continued absence, so that only left officer Frost to greet, keeping in mind that he needed to ask the secretary how her vacation went. After all, Wesker remembered every detail of the past, especially on how distraught the redhead appeared when he hadn't called her from his trip in New York. Wherever it was that she had gone to for vacation, must've been keeping her plenty busy since she didn't have the chance to check her answering machine at home.

"Joseph. Glad you're here", he saw Frost from several steps away, prompting the younger cop to turn in his own revolving chair before the Bravo member smiled at him, "I knew you weren't on patrol today, but wasn't sure if court was in your schedule".

"Nah, court got cancelled", Frost brushed off, "My loser wasn't brought from RC jail, so The People asked and received a new date. Just don't know what that is yet".

The patrolman looked around him, noticing that Wesker wasn't trying to talk to anyone else within the area.

"Are you here to see _me_, Wes?", he finally asked, pointing the left thumb towards his own chest.

"Yes. You sound surprised", the captain pulled a nearby chair closer to the seated cop, "Just wanted to see how you were feeling".

"I'm sure this is a first, you looking for me, I mean", Frost grinned.

"No, I don't think so", Wesker shook his head, though he suspected the young man may be right, "But how _are_ you doing at the Bravo team? Did you even meet every one of them yet?".

"You mean the high school kid, Chambers? Well, no, at least not yet. You figure that someone who's that young may not have enough world experience, am I correct?", the patrolman seemed to read his superior's mind.

"Would've been nice if she was 20, at least", the Umbrella spy crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"But hey, look at it this way, Wes. Where else is a better place for her to _get_ that experience she's lacking so she's not just book smart genius, but good at the social sciences too? And from what I heard, this girl may be one hell of an advantage with the RPD and the STARS. Apparently, she uses fifteen percent of her brain instead of the usual ten that we do".

That remark got some light laughter from the captain, even as both he and the man he was talking to heard the radio that sat on Frost's desk buzzing as news was being reported by the operator.

"…zzzzz… Three bodies found at 1262 Harmand St, badly mutilated. Officer Branagh requests back-up from any officers at vacinity…".

A knot tightened in Wesker's throat when he heard those words, even as he did his best to keep the emotion off his face. The RPD captain rubbed his mouth with a right hand, nonverbally telling himself that the new crime scene better not be the result of Umbrella's mistake. It was bad enough that one innocent person had lost her life to the escaped dog, but four?

Either way, he had to find out for himself. And if his suspicion did turn out to be confirmed, then his plan of letting Claymont have several more hours to track this hound down was finished, as he would be searching for it with the RPD, ready to shoot first and use tranquilliser darts second.

"You wanna go for a ride with me, Joseph?", Wesker asked his closest colleague, the younger man seeing the sudden tension in the captain's face.

"You mean to be with Marvin?", Frost wanted to confirm.

The older man only nodded his head.

"Sure, let's go", the younger man slapped him on the shoulder while standing up.

------------------------------------

The RPD captain didn't feel the anxiety ease up from his throat as he approached the front door of 1262 Harmand St, not wanting to see what may be waiting for him inside, but also knowing he couldn't ignore the evidence that was there either. Things weren't looking good for Claymont, as there was no way one single dog could've wiped out an entire family without them finding refuge in their home or calling for help, regardless of how aggressive the animal was. 

Leaving his personal vehicle behind, officers Wesker and Frost walked up to the open front door before the crime scene investigation unit had arrived, thus there was no mandatory yellow tape around any part of the house yet. The first sight that the older man noticed was several holes that were on the left side of the entrance. Bringing his face closer to it, the captain saw five nail markings about three feet above the level of the ground. He then proceeded to the right side of the entrance, past the open door and examined the opposite area there, seeing six more holes that appeared to have been left at that spot by nails that were no longer there.

It almost looked like someone had placed a wooden plank in front of the door and then nailed it shut, thus making it impossible for the people inside to come out. But then again, why would anyone wish to do that? But before Wesker had the chance to think further about that question, he and Frost saw officer Yuen coming out of the doorway, a disgusted look on the patrolman's face.

"It's just like that woman from last time", the third man at the scene told them both, pointing behind him to the inside of the house.

"How many?", Wesker dryly asked, walked past both patrolmen and being the first to make his way into the blood-drenched living room.

"Three overall, sir, so far", Yuen told from behind him, "There's one upstairs, another one in the backyard, that's where Marvin is".

"Joseph", the Umbrella spy pointed towards what he guessed would be Branagh's direction, prompting the younger man to join the patrolman already in the backyard.

"Wadda you want me to do, sir? Want me to check out the John Doe upstairs?", officer Yuen inquired as he was left alone with the captain, even while Wesker was busy squatting in front of Peter Welsh's stripped corpse.

"Absolutely, just be careful and call if you require assistance", the man in the sunglasses replied without looking back at him.

Samuel Yuen climbed up the same stairs that Jodie Welsh had taken before breaking a lamp against the head of the zombie who ended up killing her, not that the officer had any way of knowing that, as he couldn't even tell what gender Jodie's body was at the moment. Once in Roy's bedroom, the shards of glass from the lamp went completely unnoticed underfoot as the officer was mesmerised by the room's grisly centerpiece.

Back downstairs, Albert Wesker remained in the squatted position in front of Jodie's husband as he carefully took the shades off his face, eyeing the bones that were in the middle of the living room. Placing the sunglasses in the front pocket of his uniform, he paid close attention to the teeth marks that were on the bones themselves. That was the only way he would either confirm or disprove the nagging doubts about Claymont's honesty and, with it, Umbrella's integrity towards him. 

The RPD captain remembered enough from his brief days as a scientist to recognise the differences in oral structure between a human and a canine mouth. He didn't know why, but recalling this period of his life always brought on a dark haze in his memory. He saw a mental picture of his younger self while he was dressed in the white lab coat that he hadn't worn in years, and felt that the image was so distant to who he'd become now that it was almost like the man in the lab coat was someone else.

Wesker shook his head, trying to clear the fog that was building there. The act of doing so was subtle enough that it wouldn't have been noticed by a casual observer, but it was enough to get him to concentrate on the task at hand again. The Umbrella spy went against police procedure by placing a latex glove on his right hand so he could examine the evidence on his own. He then took a hold of the skull and had no problems separating it from the rest of the carcass because of the numerous attacks the body seemed to have already endured before it was even discovered. Wesker stood back up, the victim's bloody skull in his right hand, and proceeded towards the nearest light switch. Turning it on, the light fixture that hung in the middle of the living room ceiling shimmered bright, so the captain brought Peter's head closer to the illumination source, lifting the skull up between himself and the lamp.

Several moments of visual inspection under the yellow light followed.

Wesker finally gasped as his eyes widened and he lowered the severed head until he was holding it in front of his chest with both hands. His own head began to spin as he felt his legs buckling under him, so he hurried to haphazardly place the skull on the floor before sinking into the nearest couch in a seated position. He had to breathe hard several times as pressure was building up in his chest and refusing to ease up, so the RPD captain intentionally calmed himself down while resting his own left hand below the neck.

"Those bastards!", he whispered to himself in words that were barely audible, "Those bite marks were human, not canine. What the fuck are they playing at?! But what about what Claymont was feeding me about… That son of a bitch was… But does that mean that Umbrella's been… Been bullshitting me all this time? Who the hell's been injecting _people_ with that shit?".

The Umbrella mole angrily withdrew his cellphone, pressing a certain number of keys as he counted the rings on the other end to reach three before someone picked up.

"Vice-president Claymont", he ordered to be referred as soon as he knew there was a person on the other end of the line.

"May I ask who's calling?", a female voice asked from the receiver.

"Albert Wesker. Get him", the high-ranking officer recited, still feeling much more irate than the person he was addressing.

"One moment", the line was put on hold.

Wesker waited about thirty seconds, his body tensing further with every passing instant, till a voice finally resumed from the other end of the phone. Unfortunately, it wasn't the voice belonging to the overseer of the Spencer Enterprise Quality Control, but that of the same woman who had originally greeted him.

"I'm sorry, sir, but he asked that he not be disturbed at this time. Can I take a message?", the woman continued in a monotone.

"No, I don't wanna leave a message! I want him on the damn phone now!", the RPD captain hissed back, being careful to keep the tone of his voice low so as to not be heard by the other officers who were in the house.

"I'm sorry, that can't happen", the woman added before she hung up on him.

It was enough to infuriate Wesker as he closed the cellphone and returned it to its previous area in his uniform. He clawed at the armrest with his right hand, not caring that the latex glove was still around it.   
"Oh! Someone's gonna be REAL sorry for fucking with me on this one!", he promised.

The RPD captain stood back up, already having calmed down and formulating a plan in his head to make up for what he realised were years of naivety on his part when it came to his employer. He already knew that Umbrella's crimes had created an outbreak of monsters that were preying on this city and its citizens. Also, considering that Umbrella Inc had been playing him for a fool for so long, he was ready to use his position at the RPD to destroy these monsters and their creators together.

"You're not going to kill anyone else with those freaks of yours!", he hissed, having taken several steps towards the front door of the house before he remembered that he wasn't the only officer at this crime scene.

He had to choose his actions carefully if he was going to retain the trust of his colleagues at the RPD, especially now when he needed their help the most. He was thinking of the best way to handle this situation when the high-ranking police employee heard footsteps approaching him from the other side of the living room, thus prompting him to quickly return the sunglasses to his face.

"Looks to be a child in the backyard, boss", officer Frost pointed behind him, "But there ain't much left of the kid".

"But that's not even all of it", officer Branagh added, "The phone line outside's been cut, captain. It would've made using the phone impossible".

"Really", Wesker turned in their direction as he stood in place, his arms crossed in front of his chest and not feeling surprised by the revelation.

"And before you ask, no, it wasn't an accident", Branagh followed through as both patrolmen came closer, "The phone box was outside, yes, but it was six feet above the ground _and_ locked. So what kind of animal could've gotten past a locked box to deliver a clean cut into wires?".

"That's a good question, Marvin", the RPD captain relaxed his arms by his sides, "Maybe it's a bizarre side effect of those pesticides that are being used on crops. Must be making the bears awful intelligent. How convenient".

The sarcasm was obvious in his voice.

"Wes?", was all that Frost managed to utter while raising his own eyebrow.

"Joseph, please go upstairs and tell Samuel to come down here. We're going back to base and, as of right now, there's a conference set in my office in thirty minutes", Wesker returned to his usual tone of voice, "And you're all required to be there".

-----------------------------------

"Mandatory meeting in the captain's office, dude", officer Frost approached officer Donnelly as the latter was seated at his own desk, having placed his head within his hands.

The seated man lifted his face, looking up at his colleague as Frost remained standing next to his chair. The man's brow had sunk as he appeared to be scowling.

"Which captain?", Donnelly finally asked after several seconds of silence.

"Wesker", Frost informed him, "We got a problem in this city. People are being chopped up by someone or a group of people, we don't know. Captain wants to discuss it because he wants to…".

He trailed off.

"What's wrong, Eric?", he then added, noticing the strain that appeared on the face of his associate.

Donnelly then did something that was completely out of character, brushing his hair back with a left hand, appearing worried instead of the usual temper he was famous for.

"Chino called", Donnelly stated, looking ahead towards the surface of his own desk instead of staring up at the other man, "Shak's been missing for ten or eleven days now. He's been going nuts as a result, and no one was sure where the girl was. Instead he just called me back now, crying his eyes out because he was at her parents' house and Shak's sister gave him something out of a bad horror film".

"What? What're you talking about?", Frost inquired as he leaned against his colleague's desk, "And where's Shak?".

"Shak's been taken, Joe. And her sister received a box with her goddamn _finger_ in it", Donnelly's eyes grew wide with concern as he recalled what he had been told over the phone, "Chino's actually bringing it here. I just have no fucking idea what we're supposed to be doing here, assuming the girl's even alive any more".

"Shak's been what?!", the other officer repeated, "But I just seen her…".

Frost remembered further.

"Oh, shit! Oh no…", Frost was only thinking out loud, not addressing his fellow cop any more.

"What? What's up?", Donnelly asked, wanting to know whatever the other man did.

"Eric, I got something that may shed some light on this, but it's not gonna make anybody feel any better".

"Talk to me, dude. Wadda you know?", the seated man was paying closer attention, "I don't think anything could be worse than what Steve has just now".

"Is Steve bringing the evidence here?", Frost asked first.

"Yeah, he's on his way. Should be here any minute", Donnelly went on.

"Then I'll be telling this story twice", his colleague sighed.

--------------------------------------

"Wes, we need to talk", Frost knocked on the captain's open office door as he walked in, flanked closely by officers Chisholm and Donnelly while the second individual there had a shopping bag in his left hand.

"This is going to have to wait, Joseph", Wesker replied as he was partially seated on his own desk, already surrounded by officers Yuen, Branagh and Brenner, "All six of you need to be updated about what's going on in this city now, because you're the ones I trust the most, and I need you to pass what I'm telling you to everyone else here".

As he finished talking, his radio blurted out a wave of static before informing the seven men in the office of a new call.

"…two bodies recovered, corner of 200 Carlton Street… Patrol vehicles please respond…".

"What?! That's just down the street where the lady was found", Brenner blurted out, concern and shock appearing on his face, "What the hell's going _on_ in this city?!".

"Wes, the three of us _need_ to tell you something, and it may have some link to all the citizens who are being dropped dead out there, or maybe not", Frost added, "I don't know, but you need to hear this".

The RPD captain noticed the grave tone in the younger man's voice, as well as the fact that officer Chisholm appeared to be ready to lose whatever composure he was trying to hold on to.

"…new body found, Ninth and Castor Ave, said to be a Caucasian ma…", the radio spat out new information over static before Wesker promptly turned the machine off.

"Men, could you please excuse the four of us just for a few minutes?", the Umbrella spy asked Brenner, Yuen and Branagh in succession, "But I _do_ wish to talk once this is over, so don't stray too far from my office. And if you could please take down the information on all the deaths that are reported by dispatch before you come back?".

"You already know where they both are, no?", Yuen inquired.

"Unfortunately, I have the feeling we're gonna get more before the day's over. I'd rather know where they _all_ are. Need to see if there's a particular area that these killers are targeting", the captain informed him.

Five lower-ranking officers in his office exchanged worried glances, except for Chisholm who still appeared to be in a world of his own. So doing as instructed, the other three men left the room, with Donnelly closing the door behind them once he was left alone there with Chino, Frost and their superior.

"Here's where it starts", Frost began to explain, seeing that the man behind the sunglasses was paying attention to every word spoken as he remained leaning against the desk behind him, with his arms crossed in front of his chest, "A week and a half ago, the secretary, Shak, comes to me and asks that _I_ ask that new computer whiz Vickers for a disk to help her break into her parents' computer because she suspected that they were up to some form of no good".

Wesker's face tensed even further when he heard that.

"Do any of you know where Shak is? I myself haven't seen her for several days now. My one phone call to her place was left unanswered", the Umbrella mole asked, suspecting that his current situation was about to get even worse.

"Neither one of us has heard anything since Joe talked to her then, sir", officer Chisholm blurted out, his voice sounding more hoarse than normal, matching the swollen face and sunken eyes he had, "I've been bugging her adoptive parents since then, that being the mayor and his wife, as you may know. I went there today, and Warren… And… Goddamn… Joanne, their daughter gave me this after that jackass blew me off and said she was just 'off visiting relatives' and didn't want to be disturbed by anyone from here".

Finishing his statement, the youngest man there tossed the shopping bag onto the floor, just out of the captain's reach.

"What's this?", Wesker extended his body till he took a hold of the bag, lifting it in his right hand as he stood back up to his full height.

Reaching into it with his left hand, he withdrew the blue and gold jewellery box before letting the shopping bag fall back on the floor next to his feet. Hearing no answers from any of the three men he was addressing, Wesker proceeded to open the fancy box, a mixture of concern and rage appearing behind his shades when he saw the contents that were covered with dry blood. He involuntarily shook his head, not knowing why, and then got a mental picture of Shakahnna tied to a metal surface as she was screaming in pain. The high-ranking officer was also overcome by a mysterious sensation that he could only describe as pleasure, though he didn't know the reasoning for that either. But it was gone so quickly, he couldn't be sure that either the mental image or the eroticism was real, and the anger was soon back on his face. Frost thought that the captain might genuinely lose his temper for the first time since he met the older man two years ago. But contrary to the young man's expectation, the Umbrella operative regained the composure on his face after a moment.

"Obviously the mayor's lying, I'm not sure why, but he is", Donnelly contributed to the conversation, "And considering how he blew Chino off, and his daughter was telling Chino that her parents _aren't_ taking this as seriously as she would, and that's saying a lot considering she's a damn kid, I say we're through being civil to the Warrens. I already called judge Jackson's chambers, but he's not there or in court today. I know where he lives, and as much of a hardass as he is, no way in hell is he not gonna sign a search warrant after I tell him what's going on. He won't care who the fuck Warren is, mayor or no, and once we have his signature, we'll turn that mansion upside down and question that asshole's entire family till they break".

"Forget that, we don't have the time", Wesker dryly followed the patrolman's suggestion, "First off, guys, I should've been notified of this sooner. Second, I don't want you guys to do anything about this just yet. I'm going to _personally_ have a heart-to-heart with dear Mr. Warren about it". 

"Cool. When are the four of us going to 'talk' to him about this?", Donnelly asked, placing emphasis on the word.

"_We_ aren't doing anything", the captain countered, "I want _you_ three to join officers Brenner, Yuen and Branagh and go patrolling. Always stay in pairs, always keep your sidearm with you, and if you come across anyone or anything out there that's causing all these deaths, then do not hesitate to take it out. Then meet me back here in one hour and I'll report whatever happened with the mayor, as well as doing what I wanted to originally do in here. But those plans will wait till this issue is resolved".

"Are we gonna find her?", officer Chisholm asked, thinking more to himself.

"I'll hopefully have your answer in an hour", the RPD captain withdrew his sunglasses with the left hand and rubbed his eyes with his right one.

"You OK, Wes?", Frost inquired.

"Yeah, sure. Just tired, is all. Don't worry about me. I got a redhead to find and you have an entire city out there whose citizens are afraid", Wesker replaced the dark glasses in their usual place, "Just make sure you're back here 59 minutes from now. Dismissed".

On cue, all three men slowly made their way out of his office, though the youngest among the group seemed more hesitant to return to his normal police work. Wesker waited till the door was closed and he was alone in his office before he locked it. He then pulled the shade down so as to block the office from anyone who tried to look in on him from outside.

Wesker walked over to a particular corner of the room. Counting the third large tile from the left, he first squatted in front of it and pushed that particular wall surface in until it protruded from the wall itself. The RPD captain then lifted the tile, reaching behind it with his right arm. His fingers came across a wooden crate that was hidden behind the wall itself, but he ignored that for now and instead combed the floor of the secret compartment with his hand. He finally touched what he was searching for, so he withdrew the metallic box and then vertically replaced the tile back against the wall.

Standing back up, Wesker placed what appeared to be a metallic bread box on the surface of his desk before he then opened it. The Umbrella operative surveyed the dozen Desert Eagle clips that were inside of the box, each of them carrying seven flathead rounds. So the captain withdrew his favourite weapon off the belt holster, taking the clip of regular bullets out of the Desert Eagle handgun and then feeding a flathead clip into it. He also replaced the two regular clips he carried in his uniform with the more powerful ones, then casually placed the three clips of normal bullets into the top right drawer of his desk.

"Umbrella seems to have forgotten who it depended on to take down their fiercest creatures. And if that was my job, what does that make _me_?", he thought out loud as he placed the upgraded firearm back in its holster.

The irony that he was searching for Shakahnna and keeping flatheads in his handgun while doing so wasn't lost on him as he returned the nine flathead clips back to their secret compartment in the wall. But if the redhead was still alive, he told himself that he'll let her use the more powerful bullets from now one at Kendo's if she wished.

"You all better hope she's still in one piece", he uttered as he unlocked his office door and made his way out of the room. 

-------------------------------------

"Captain Wesker, RPD", the man in the shades identified himself through the open driver's side window as he had stopped the car in front of the gate.

The Umbrella operative could see the mayor's large mansion about a hundred yards from his current position as he was talking to the armed guard who stood next to his BMW. The RPD official expected the younger man to give him the usual permission to drive through. Instead, the uniformed sentry kept the assault rifle strapped to his own right shoulder and looked back at guard post that was a few yards away from where he stood. That by itself made Wesker curious, but he didn't have long to think about it because the guard then turned back and addressed him through the window.

"I'm sorry, no can do", the sentinel dressed in standard Umbrella Security colours shook his head, "We got strict orders to not let any cops in here as of this morning, but _especially_ you and some other blonde-haired guy".

"I don't think you understand", the older man insisted, "This is in regards to a criminal investigation. I don't have the time for this".

"I'm sorry", the man repeated, "But unless you got a warrant, you're not getting in there".

Wesker sighed as he calmly removed his seatbelt and placed the car in a parked position. He then climbed out of the front driver's side door and kept the door open behind him as he stood at his full height, facing the shorter guard.

"Then I'm sorry too", the RPD official informed the other man.

"For what?", the sentry asked, feeling confused.

"This", Wesker grabbed the back of the shorter man's head even while the latter gasped and tried to remove the assault rifle from his shoulder.

The Umbrella spy slammed the guard's forehead against the roof of his vehicle, prompting a loud moan to escape from his antagonist's mouth as the sentinel's body went limp. Falling on the ground next to the car, the guard kept groaning as he tried to rise back on his hands and knees, unsuccessfully. So Wesker delivered a kick to his chin, finally knocking him unconscious.

"Whatever Umbrella's paying you, it's not enough, trust me", the captain gripped the man from underneath both armpits before dragging him towards the small guard tower, "And for what it's worth, you're better off being fired by those people than continuing to work for them".

He placed the unresponsive man inside the tower and then returned to the car that was still waiting for him with the engine on. Once behind the wheel, Wesker closed the door and didn't bother with the seatbelt as he only had a short distance to drive. 

He reached the front door within a few seconds, thus exited the vehicle again after parking it in a non-discreet fashion next to the door itself. So he walked up to the buzzer that was next to the mansion's main entrance and pressed the button that was available.

"Yes?", a man's voice greeted him from the other side.

"This is captain Wesker from the RPD. Please let me in instead of making me shoot through the door", the man in the shades declared.

At least two men who were having a discussion on the other side, one of them sounding calm while the other was clearly agitated. It took about half a minute for the heated conversation to end before a butler who was slightly older than Wesker himself opened the door.

"Thank you", the Umbrella spy nodded as he came inside, "Now where the hell's Michael Warren?".

"The mayor would be in his office at the moment, sir", Bustleton informed him as he closed the door and then followed the RPD official into the lobby, "May I ask what your business with Mr. Warren is?".

"Actually, no, you may not. It'd be better for you if you didn't", Wesker shook his head as he made his way towards the mayor's office.

Bustleton said nothing else as he kept trailing the younger man, an air of concern on his face as he wasn't sure how much trouble this visitor was going to cause. But his orders from Mr. Warren had been to keep the cop busy for as long as possible while the mayor was calling his wife and asking her for suggestions, instead of keeping the front door closed and risking something which would draw them a lot of unwanted attention. No one wanted to see if the man in the shades was making serious threats or not, especially after he had somehow made his way past the guard at the front gate and there were no other armed sentries in this corner of the large mansion.

"Sir, do you have an appointment?", a young woman who was seated at a desk station right outside the mayor's office asked as she stood up.

"Absolutely", Wesker brushed her off as he walked past the secretary and gripped the doorknob to the office itself, "In fact, I think Michael's been looking forward to this all day".

"But sir, you can't just…", she tried to follow him as he opened the door.

"I don't advise that you do that", Wesker partly turned around as he stepped inside and closed the door on her as well as the older butler, thus keeping them both out of the office.

Turning back to face the inside of the plush work area, the RPD captain locked the door behind him, thus making sure that he and the nervous mayor inside were alone. The only way in or out of here was either through the locked door or via the closed window that overlooked the backyard, thus he finally had Michael Warren where he wanted him.

"I'll only ask nicely once, Michael. Where's Shakahnna?", Wesker purposefully walked towards the desk that the city's mayor was seated at.

"How did you get past the…", Mr. Warren shot back.

"Are you not listening?", the RPD captain came closer, "I hear you've been giving one of my colleagues a hard time, a certain officer Chisholm? We at the police department frown upon that kind of behaviour".

"What the hell are you talking about?!", the mayor stood up from his chair.

That wasn't the answer Wesker needed to hear, so the younger man smoothly withdrew the Desert Eagle handgun, pointing the barrel at Warren's chest from across the desk, making the mayor shiver involuntarily at the sight.

"I've had a very long day, Michael, and I'm not in the mood for this shit from you", the visitor angrily hissed from behind the extended right hand that held the firearm, "In fact, not in the mood doesn't even _begin_ to describe how I'm feeling right now. Either you tell me what you did with that girl or I _swear_ I won't be responsible for my actions".

Wesker was guessing that his foe didn't know enough about weapons to see that the handgun still had its safety mechanism on.

"What is this, a new form of torment that you've devised to play mindgames with us?!", the older mayor finally blurted out, appearing more angry than Wesker expected, "There was no need for you to take our daughter, and now you're here asking me where she is?".

"You're accusing _me_ of playing games, considering what you just said, you sick fuck?", the captain kept the firearm aimed at his target's chest, "What's the _hell's_ in this town's water supply? What happened? You and Elena found her snooping around, getting suspicious of your goddamn employer's activities, so you had to take her out?!".

"_We_ didn't do anything! We've never laid a hand on that child, or had someone else do it for us, you prick!", Warren angrily countered, "That's my little girl! When you accuse me of doing _anything_ like that to her, when we've seen god knows what you've been doing yourself. Is that how you get your kicks?".

The intruder in the shades sighed in frustration at his lack of progress, and not being in the mood to afflict death or dismemberment on the mayor, Wesker holstered his weapon and decided to go back to basics. Before Mr. Warren had time to react, the RPD official reached over the surface of the wooden desk and gripped the older man by the throat in a hold that was more powerful than anything the mayor thought he could manage with only his left hand. Michael Warren thrashed like a fish out of water, both his hands clawing at Wesker's left wrist, but his adversary didn't loosen the steel grip around the mayor's neck, instead forcing him to stand in place as his circulation was hampered. From that position, captain Wesker used his own right hand to grab Warren's left wrist and began to twist the older man's arm clockwise until just before the point where that elbow would break.

"Last time I ask before you're screaming", the aggressor demanded as his sunglasses stared intently into the mayor's terrified eyes, "And if you don't tell me now, I'll just have to ask again _after_ you're yelling out in pain".

"Wesker, I don't understand!", Mr. Warren gasped between breaths, his own right hand still uselessly gripping the tormentor's wrist, "What am I supposed to say? _You're_ the one who's taken her and is killing her slowly just to get at us about your damn police team!".

"Wrong answer", Wesker countered as he twisted the older man's left wrist further, hearing a wet ~crack~ before the mayor screamed and grabbed his own left elbow with the right hand.

The RPD official let the man go as Mr. Warren fell forward on the desk and then slipped off if before crashing on the floor on his back. Wesker calmly walked around the workstation and casually squatted next to the screaming older man, almost as if he was in the middle of a friendly conversation.

"Now, if you don't want me to go for the _other_ arm, you'll spill it. It's really up to you", the younger man in the shades instructed.

It was all Wesker got to say because he then heard a loud kick emanating from outside the office door. So he instinctively stood up and looked in that direction in time to then hear a second kick, which was quickly followed by a third one before the door burst open. A wave of approximately ten armed Umbrella Security guards rushed inside, all of them with either handguns or assault rifles aimed in Wesker's general direction.

The trespasser in the mayor's office didn't know what his status with Umbrella was at this time, as his original employer must've been aware of his disloyalty. And considering that the agency which used to have his trust had been experimenting on humans, lying about those same creatures escaping to then kill the city's citizens and kidnapping the teenaged redhead when she got suspicious of them, he couldn't take any chances. Besides, if Umbrella had considered him to be an enemy of the organisation, then Shakahnna's fate could've easily been his. And even if the numerous opponents here hadn't aimed their firearms at his head, he doubted the Kevlar vest that hugged his torso underneath his uniform could've handled the stress of so many weapons firing against it at once. 

So Wesker bent down and grabbed Michael Warren by the collar with both his hands in one swift motion. Standing back up, he faced the barrage of security guards who were dressed in the same clothes he had worn for the last time two years ago when he was serving as a card-carrying member of Umbrella Security. The RPD officer kept the whimpering mayor of Racoon City between himself and the large group of adversaries. Withdrawing the Desert Eagle again, he planted the tip of the barrel against the older man's torso, even as he caught a glimpse of Elena Warren behind the line of ten men who were now formed in front of the office door. 

"One more step and he gets it. Back off!", the captain barked at the mayor's wife, "I'm sure you know that one of the worst ways to die is a gunshot to the stomach, so unless you're fine with electing a new mayor tomorrow, hold your dogs back, bitch!".

Neither Elena Warren nor the armed guards said anything, except that the mayor's wife had her hand on the shoulder of the security personnel closest to her. So wanting to take advantage of the situation while things were still in his favour, Wesker stepped closer to the group of enemies, dragging Mr. Warren ahead of him the entire time and, consequently, coming closer to the only window in the office.

Hoping he could move as quickly as he planned, Wesker pushed the mayor's almost limp figure forward, shoving him towards two of the nearest guards. He didn't wait long enough to see the result of his action because the police captain had already turned around and bolted towards the window that was half a dozen steps away long before the mayor slammed into the guards. Michael Warren crashed into the two armed sentries, knocking them down as he did, at the same time that Albert Wesker leapt through the window in an explosion of glass. 

The RPD official landed on the backyard grass outside the office in a squatted position as he bled from several cuts on his hands and face. He instinctively checked for the position of the sunglasses on his face with the left hand and placed the handgun back in its holster with his right one. Standing back up, he then dashed around the mansion, intending to reach the BMW that was still parked outside the front door of the house.

From inside the office itself, two of the guards that Mr. Warren had accidentally knocked down were already tending to his broken left arm while the other eight men had hurried towards the broken window. But rather than have them pursue the intruder, Elena Warren signalled them to let the man go and simply return to their previous duties.

After all, she didn't know what White Umbrella's plans for Albert Wesker were, and she wasn't going to risk being in her employer's disfavor unless she absolutely had no other choice. And the fact that her professional rival had broken her husband's arm and threatened his life was by no means enough of a reason to hunt him down without White Umbrella's expressed consent.

+++++++++++++++++++

July 24, 1998, 3:01PM

"That's the first time that idiot did something I approve of", Albert Wesker gave a mock salute with his right index and middle finger as he stepped into the elevator after the doors had been opened, "If only he had shot the delightful Mrs. Warren on top of that".

He pressed the lowest button within the elevator before he watched the doors close and felt himself being lowered towards the basement, thinking that it felt good to have that awful RPD uniform off and being back in his familiar white lab coat.

"But if he had, then I wouldn't have had the pleasure of killing that whore myself", he chuckled to himself as he reached what was arguably his favourite place in the world.

The metal doors opened again, prompting the Umbrella scientist to step out as he headed towards the room where the redhead was kept waiting for him. He looked forward to seeing Shakahnna Warren again, so he smiled to himself as he reached the narrow window that gave him the chance to communicate with the detainee who was within the locked room.

"Feels good to be back home, sweetheart", he greeted even before he had accessed the thick glass, "There's definitely something special about being with a girl who you can totally be yourself with, you know".

The White Umbrella employee looked inside the secure space as he finished talking, and then heard himself gasping when he realised that the room was empty.

"No… NO… Not possible", he whispered, rushing towards the massive steel door.

He angrily loosened the deadbolts before stepping inside the confinement cell, confirming that no one was there.

"How the fuck did she get out?!", Wesker raised his voice, frustration growing within him, suddenly ruining the great day he's had so far.

"We've been using this damn cell for YEARS!", he exclaimed as he walked out of the room, "We've had top-ranked scientists in there, those officers that Irons sent us, and even that damn cat burglar couldn't get out. And if someone with his brain couldn't figure out a weakness to it, and a goddamn _hunter_ wasn't strong enough to break the glass or the door, how the hell did some insolent female make her way out of there?".

The long line of successes he had in the past when it comes to incarcerating future experiments in that room cheered him up, however slightly. So he proceeded towards the sole entrance to the adjacent room that held the twenty cylinder glass tubes that were full of various currently researched creatures. The place looked undisturbed, at least, but Wesker had to be sure that his most precious experiment wasn't damaged, so he hurried towards a keyboard and pressed a sequence of buttons. Hearing the expected whooshing sound, the Umbrella executive looked up to spot the larger cylinder that contained his prize tyrant as it was raised towards the floor near him. He sighed in relief when he saw that his treasured trophy was still in the same shape he had left it. The tyrant's container now blocked the door, which was the exact design of the room that he wanted, of course.

Withdrawing his firearm with the right hand, the scientist first pressed the icon to open the metal door at the end of this room and then marched towards the exit as he began his search for the redhead.

"After this, you're not going to be the only one any more", he thought out loud as he patted a sealed vial that rested inside his lab coat with his left hand, "You're just going to be my own personal breeding bitch, _after_ I break off enough of your fingers to find out how you got the hell out of my room".

------------------------------------

He had already shot two zombies and dodged four others, along with simply walking past half a dozen aimless cleaners by the time Wesker was staring at the fence door that led to the stone steps upstairs. It had taken the scientist about twenty minutes to make his way through every room and hallway between the lowest basement and here. So the high-ranking Umbrella executive wasn't annoyed at the redhead's escape just yet, but suspected that he'd get frustrated soon if a positive turn of events didn't take place soon.

Climbing upstairs two steps at a time, the scientist caught a glimpse of what he could only describe as being a massive shockwave that emanated from the hallway at the top of this staircase. He also felt the infrastructure around him shaking for an instant before everything returned to normal.

"What the fuck was that? Bet it has something to do with her", Wesker hurried upstairs, quickening his already fast pace, "This isn't tyrant behaviour".

Then again, he had to admit to himself that everything about the redhead so far wasn't typical tyrant behaviour as he knew it.

Finally reaching the top of the stairs, Wesker dashed down the hallway to his left, the worry apparent on his face when he spotted what appeared to be a female body wearing a white lab coat about thirty yards away.

"She can't be dead!", he exclaimed as he neared the prone figure while keeping the handgun in his right grip, "I fucked over Umbrella for you, you damn bitch! I did this for you and you abandon me by dying?!".

It was only when he was within an arm's reach of the redhead that he noticed her being surrounded by charred and scattered body parts all over the hallway floor. The severed chunks of arms, legs, torsos and heads seemed to come from about a dozen different zombies. On top of that, the teenaged experiment who had been his to work on for the last week and a half appeared to merely be lying asleep on the floor instead of being dead like he expected. Shakahnna also was cleaner now than he had ever seen her before, with flecks of gold in her hair rather than it being red, while her skin was still faintly glowing. Last but not least, the lab coat she had on showed no sign of blood or even dirt, just like the smooth skin on her entire body that was as clean as possible, while Wesker himself remembered her having an ample amount of dried blood on her when she woke up earlier today.

"Forget showing me how you got out of that room", he spoke to her, unsure if she could hear him or not, "You are _going_ to show me what happened here".

Bending down, he checked for her pulse with his left index and middle fingers and found a steady heart rate. 

"Good thing, too", he felt relieved, "My entire plan for a tyrant army is worthless without you here to implement it".

Wesker did his best to carry the younger woman over his left shoulder before he turned back and proceeded to head towards the staircase that led downstairs. He kept the firearm in his right hand as he carefully made his way back to the lowest floor within this laboratory, thinking to himself that this wasn't a setback at all. In fact, he had forced the girl to show whatever tricks she might've had up her proverbial sleeve.

---------------------------------

Shakahnna opened her eyes as she was disoriented, not sure how she was moving while her feet weren't on the floor. Any thoughts that she might've been flying vanished when she realised she was back in the room with the twenty cylinder containers, and it was Albert Wesker who was carrying her on his shoulder, back to that awful room where she was imprisoned earlier. Back to that hellhole where she wouldn't be heard by anyone no matter how much she screamed. And being stuck with this scientist indicated that he would be even more aggressive after her attempted escape, thus he was not planning anything that was positive for her.

By this time, Wesker already knew that the door behind him was locked, making sure no zombies wandered in. So he was able to holster his handgun and concentrate both his arms on carrying the younger subject on his left shoulder. He still thought she was unconscious as they were passing by the cylinders that contained various creatures in their watery tombs. So he was surprised when she delivered her left elbow into the back of his head and her right first into his kidneys.

The older man screamed as his head was first shoved forward and both the back of his skull and torso protested in pain. The surprise also made him drop her involuntarily, leading to the redhead falling down past his face as she landed roughly on her back and then came to a seated position on the floor in front of him. Shakahnna sprang to her feet just as Wesker was withdrawing the Desert Eagle handgun from its holster.

The teenager supported her entire body weight on her left foot while delivering a kick that was as powerful as she could afford with the wobbly knees she had now. While Wesker had the firearm out, he received her foot in between his legs, causing his eyes to water and bulge as he heard himself wheezing. He dropped the weapon on the floor against his wishes and tried to cradle his throbbing testicles as he bent down from the pain. 

As he did, he wasn't able to see the teenager punch the cylinder closest to her, breaking the thick glass with ease as the liquid content inside gushed out like it was a faucet. Shakahnna then grabbed a piece of glass that was about five inches long and three inches wide out of the cryogenic tube. So Wesker took several moments to regain control of his beaten body before he was able to stand up straight. But he then found himself staring down the barrel of his own handgun since Shakahnna was holding the firearm with her right hand and the piece of glass in her left as the girl's right arm was extended straight in front of her face.

"I knowed about you two", the teenager angrily hissed, aiming the barrel of the weapon two feet in front of her adversary's face, noting that he didn't appear as afraid as he should've, "Let me be talking to Weskie. Now".

"Ah, so you _do_ know", the scientist grinned, "Then that's an advantage to _me_".

"How the fuck do you figure that?", the redhead countered.

"Because then you won't kill me, even if you can", Wesker kept smiling.

"You'll be'd surprised how much you can survive", Shakahnna threatened, "And you really gonna be finding out how much if you don't let me talk to him".

"You're the one to talk about the ability to survive. You should be the spokesperson to that campaign", the Umbrella employee's face finally turned to his usual one.

Shakahnna's features revealed that she finally remembered the ordeal she had undergone with the poor, hideous undead creatures from the hallway that was two floors above this place. The teenager felt confused because she realised that she had survived the encounter that should've killed her, and also showed no sign of injuries. She instinctively looked down at her own shoulder to where the large bloodstain should've been, only to see that the lab coat there was pure white without any stains on it. 

It was the only mistake needed on her part before Wesker rushed forward and slapped the firearm out of her grip with his right hand and then caught the weapon with his left one. Shakahnna didn't have any time to reprimand herself for the carelessness she had shown since her tormentor was back with the Desert Eagle in his hand, gladly aiming it at her chest.

"As you said, dear, you'll be surprised how much you can survive", the older man blurted out, "Maybe I _can't_ kill you, but the again, that was never my intention anyway. You're much more important alive than executed. Still, imagine having a flathead round in every one of your limbs before you're strapped down to that favourite metal bed of yours".

He took a step towards her, making her take a step back as he came closer.

"You either get back to that room or I shoot you dead and you'll somehow wake up there later on. Either way, we're going to find out what makes your clock tick and how", the scientist threatened.

"Nu uh, _Weskie_!", Shakahnna countered, "You be thinking you gotted this all worked out but you don't! I know you never be letting me out of here, what the hell do I gotta live for? I WON'T be stuck forever here just to be fucked over and hurted by you. I did be surviving when I shouldn't, despite whatever you done to those people in the tubes or up there, if they even be human anymore! You're not using me to hurt anyone. And whatever those things and me are, NOTHING can survive decapitation".

With that, the teenager placed the tip of the glass she was holding with her left fingers against the base of her throat, then gripped the handle of the make-shift weapon with both her hands.

"You touch me, Albert Wesker, and all you're gonna have left is a corpse, but you won't be getting to do any of that stuff to me. You'd better be hoping that you can be getting all your fucking answers from a stiff", the girl threatened.

Wesker didn't advance any more, quietly cursing himself for giving her an advantage without realising it.

"Well, if you're gone, then it would be your young friend who's upset more than anyone, so do you really wish to place him through this?", the Umbrella scientist stated as he holstered his weapon and slowly crept closer to her, hopefully without her noticing it as his feet never left the floor, "I had spoken with him, you realize. He's _very_ concerned about your well being. And if that's how he feels now, imagine how much worse he is likely to feel when he gets your head, courtesy of what you are considering doing here". 

Shakahnna listened to what she was being told, slowly withdrawing the tip of the glass from her throat.

"This is only temporary, after all", Wesker reassured, almost purring as he inched closer still, knowing that no one was a better manipulator than him, "You and I are going to build a genetically superior army based on what this completed study finds. The tests are necessary to find out how to best achieve this. So we'll effectively be parents to something that will cause governments to fall. Unimaginable power for those who are strong enough to take it. And there's no reason why you can't be allowed to rejoin your loved ones later".

He could see that the girl wanted to believe him, since she wished to return to that rookie cop more than anything, even to the point where she was currently wondering if she could find any hint of truth in what he said. 

"Prove…", Shakahnna replied before she spotted the older man lunging towards her and trying to grab that annoying glass out of her grasp with his left hand.

It was all she got to say because she screamed and shoved the tip of the transparent weapon through her neck. Wesker gasped in horror as he saw her blood first trickling down the flat side of the glass itself, and then pouring over it like a miniature waterfall. 

He looked up to see that the teenager's eyes were fazing out before her head tilted back and then rolled towards her left shoulder, almost as if it was resting there. But the skin that was next to the entry wound created by the glass began to slowly tear. It gathered speed, ripping all the way around her neck and then taking some skin off her face as well, until Shakahnna's head was only connected to the rest of her body by a thin slither of flesh. The wound at her throat pressed against the shard of glass, magnifying its appearance for the distraught scientist. Finally, when the weight of the head became too much, it fell to the ground, bumping and rolling twice before staring back at him. The lab coat she was wearing turned red and the rest of her decapitated body remained standing for a few more seconds before it too collapsed next to the head on the blood-soaked floor.


	17. Chapter 17 Countdown to Hell, Part 2: R...

"What a fucking roller coaster!", Wesker kicked at the headless body several times, not caring that his expensive shoes were turning red and droplets of blood also splattered onto his lab coat, "First things are great, then not because you're dead, then you're alive again, showing off powers _I_ didn't know you had, then THIS?! You fucking BITCH!".

He growled to himself as he brushed the hair on top of his head, wondering how he was going to handle this particular situation. Regardless of his new contract with HCF, Wesker knew he had betrayed White Umbrella for nothing. After all, the second company he was eagerly buying into was supposed to only be a stepping stone towards a more lucrative market once he extracted the dead girl's reproductive capabilities for his tyrant army. Now that she was dead, he was looking at merely being another scientist with another corporation, and to make things worse, he lost whatever seniority he had at Umbrella and had to now start at the bottom of the corporate ladder. 

Wesker was strongly adverse to not being in control, which was why he kicked the decapitated body yet one more time.

His thoughts of doom, gloom and depression were cut short, however, when he felt another shockwave, just like he had while he was standing at the fence door a short while ago. The only difference now was that this second one was intensely bright, making the scientist feel glad that he still had the perpetual shades on his face. The illumination that must've been equivalent to that of a lightning bolt brightened the room for a few seconds, even as Wesker was looking around his environment in an effort to track down its source.

By the time he turned around towards Shakahnna's remains, the lustre was waning, thus returning the room to its previous fixture. But the Umbrella executive knew that the redhead was somehow responsible for it as he noticed that the girl was hovering several feet from the floor, still in a prone position. That would've been enough of a surprise, but the teenager's head was also reattached to her body. On top of those factors, her entire body was shining bright, with the face being the most vivid part of it, and all the blood that used to be on her skin or her clothing had disappeared once again. The last aspect to be noted by him, had he kept the Dictaphone here, would've been that the redhead also had a pair of silver-coloured wings that were approximately four feet long each protruding from her upper back.

"And Birkin thought it was a regular human", Wesker grinned, no longer feeling angry all of a sudden for the second time today.

The invisible force that was supporting her in mid-air now seemed to gently lower her towards the floor, which was dry in turn, as opposed to having a pool of her blood on it as it had a few minutes ago. A shimmer began at the top of the teenager's head and spread lower towards the rest of her body as Shakahnna snuggled with her hands underneath her face, almost as if she was napping on the floor. The wings that were behind her fluttered several times before dissipating, thus returning the girl to her previous human-like appearance as the glow vanished from her body also. 

"If I believed in angels, then I'd think I was going to hell after I died", Wesker thought out loud before he scoffed, "Too bad I'm not planning on dying, then".

It was only then that Wesker noticed that the numerous cuts on his face, hands and forearms that his other personality acquired by jumping through the mayor's window were gone. He could see that his hands were now free of any bruises and, as he glimpsed at his reflection on the surface of the nearest cylinder, he realised that his face looked the same as it did before it had been harmed by the sharp glass.

"An angel? Hardly", a voice startled Wesker from behind him, prompting him to spin around even as he withdrew the pistol from his midsection.

"Who the hell said that?", the man in the sunglasses demanded, visually combing the room while pointing the barrel of the handgun at whatever area he looked at.

He was definitely surprised that anyone could've found this place, much less entered it without his security measures tracking the intruder down. But here was proof that his security wasn't perfect.

"Angels were much easier to kill than her, trust me", the silky male voice answered, prompting Wesker to shake his own head in disbelief because he noticed that it emanated from the shadow that was made by the large test tubes.

"I must be infected by something", the Umbrella executive thought out loud, "First seeing angels, then having shadows talk to me".

"Humans have _such_ a tendency to over-react", the same tone replied from the shadowy floor.

As Wesker watched, a figure rose out of the shaded area, first taking the form of a human head, then climbing higher till it appeared to be a male torso, until the scientist finally found himself staring at an adult man who was completely made out of shadow. The human had to take off his sunglasses to make sure his eyes weren't conning him, then he spotted two sapphire eyes taking shape on the mysterious visitor's face.

"OK, I'm guessing that _this_ won't work", Wesker sighed as he holstered his weapon.

"We have a common goal, Albert Wesker", the shadow mentioned as he came closer to the Umbrella employee, "I'm here to help you with the problem at hand. You wish to keep the goddess here, imprisoned, and in pain. We also require this".

"Well, you know my name, that's a start. And god fucking knows I'm not dealing with this chick the way I want", Wesker replied, "So what do you have for me?".

"To know how to fight our lady, you should first understand who it is you're dealing with", the guest went on, casually pointing towards Shakahnna's prone figure, "This goddess can't die in your realm, as simple as that, because this isn't where she originates from. When this resurrection process here is complete, you will be taught what you need to effectively dominate her. But for starters, know this – she is the mortal enemy of the Brotherhood of the Shadow, as well as that of my personal master, though he should remain anonymous for now".

"Where _are_ you from?", Wesker inquired, unable to resist satisfying his curiosity.

"An alternate plane of reality", the pitch black individual informally told him, as if he had to answer that question one too many times in the past, "Though you'll be wasting your time if you think you can use my resources to your own personal advantage. That's where the goddess is from too, just like my master. Except my master is what you humans would call a stealer of souls, or a sorcerer who's very apt in the black arts. This character that you're obsessed with, on the other hand, is the exact opposite".

Disgust had entered the shadowy man's voice as he finished talking.

"She represents my master's opposite, that being a healer, returning souls to a dying creature if she happens to be around it, whether she chooses to do so or not", the mysterious person continued, "So she can't kill a creature that possesses a soul within this realm either, again, regardless of her wishes. Every time she dies, she also becomes stronger once she's regenerated, and alongside this, heals any injuries that are within her proximity, thus explaining what happened to you just now".

"You're telling me this girl is not a tyrant, then?", Wesker inquired, not being interested in a conversation that didn't follow his original plan.

"If anything, she tried to put an end to tyranny before she escaped by coming to this plane of reality", his informant continued, not realising the meaning of the word that Wesker used.

"Never mind", the Umbrella scientist sighed, "So what do you want?".

"To help you, because that can help us", the visitor went on, "First and foremost, the goddess cannot be allowed to return to her own home realm. She was sent here because her powers weren't developed completely yet, and they still are not. No magic and no gods exist here, and as such, all the natural energy is instinctively drawn to her. My master tried to track her down to destroy her, with help, of course, but she was sent here because this is the one realm where he cannot follow".

The shadow in the form of a man chuckled next.

"A prototype transport spell was used to evacuate her here, but we re-routed her so she appeared deep beneath the earth", the individual with the blue eyes continued, "Unfortunately, that failed to kill her, so it brings us here. My master cannot claim presence in this realm, for the same reason that she so flourishes here. Since there are no dark gods to maintain his power, he would age centuries as soon as he set foot here".

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry", Wesker stopped him, "If what you're telling me is true and this girl here isn't a miracle of science, ie, a tyrant, for those of us who don't know, what use do I have for some fucking fairy?".

"Mr. Wesker, you may have failed to notice that whatever this 'tyrant' thing is that you insist on speaking about, will in no way be as powerful as the goddess once her powers mature. As her powers are now, never mind in the future, she's the most powerful entity in this reality. She may even be able to destroy my master if she reaches her true potential. That _is_ why he was hunting her down while she's still a child now, you know. You could certainly use her to learn of ways to enhance whatever science your hobby has you following".

"A hobby, right", the scientist followed, "But regardless, I think you may be correct about HCF being advanced by whatever data I can get out of her. But what's the catch?".

"I'm sorry, I don't understand", the dark silhouette shook his head.

"Nobody gives something for nothing", Wesker clarified.

"Well, you get to learn from her and we get to keep her out of our realm until my master's forces can decimate all of Earth's chosen ones. After that, this goddess will be on her own, and thus not much of a threat. Not even a white mage could take on the emperor's entire army all alone", the talking shadow explained, "Just hold on to her till the emperor has full control over everything, that's all. But if you would like for there to be conditions, be strong enough to keep her here indefinitely. The more miserable our lady is, the less likely she is to remember how to get home". 

"So your problem is now my problem. I like how you think", Wesker nodded his head.

The scientist's attention was diverted by a slight moaning sound that came from several steps away. So both he and the dark visitor turned their attention in that direction in time to see Shakahnna groggily sitting up, her eyes fluttering open before a look of revulsion appeared on her face as she noticed she was still alive despite her best efforts. Climbing up on one knee, the teenager took a hold of the piece of glass she had used to decapitate herself and threw it, sharp edge first, towards Wesker's own face. 

The projectile may or may not have struck its target, but neither she nor her target found out as the shadow-man reacted almost faster than the humans could've seen him. The surprise guest at the compound dematerialised into thin air before returning to his original figure, but this time appearing in front of the scientist. The shard of glass fell apart as it came to within an arm's reach of the pseudo-man, exploding into tiny crystals which fell on the floor like snow.

Not understanding who this man was, and not caring at the moment, Shakahnna sprang to her feet and darted around the other side of the cylinders as she headed towards the only door to leave this room. If that meant running into the undead monsters upstairs, then she'd deal with them when she had to, but she wasn't going to stay here if she could help it. It didn't occur to her that the metal door was an automatic one which acquired the push of a button from the computer monitor on the other side of the room. She reached the only exit leading away from Wesker's twisted games, touched its metal surface, and wasn't surprised to feel it sliding aside anyway.

Reacting to her attempted escape, the dark silhouette crossed his own palms over each other, making a circular shape with his hands before thrusting his arms forward, the right hand pointing towards the ceiling while the left one aimed at the floor. A grey-coloured projectile that was made solely of smoke shot out of his hands, firing towards the spot where the teenager stood. The transparent missile took the shape of a massive ring as the redhead saw it coming right at her chest. Shakahnna ducked a split second before the enchanted projectile slammed into the wall behind her and dissipated, thus giving her the chance to bolt out of the entrance as she wanted. 

Wesker thought he should've been surprised by what he had seen, even as he was busy withdrawing the Desert Eagle for the third time today while in his personal compound, but after witnessing the events of the last hour, this no longer shocked him. Seeing the weapon in his right grip, the creature who had saved him from the flying glass placed his own right hand on the scientist's right forearm, causing an unwholesome sensation where his fingers were partly inside Wesker's flesh.

"That is deeply unpleasant, by the way", the human commented, his face revealing how he felt.

"You won't need that to bring her back here", his visitor replied, taking the hand away from the scientist's arm.

"Do you have any _idea_ how large this place is?", Wesker angrily shot back, "There's literally scores of rooms and hallways throughout this compound. It'll take HOURS to track that bitch down, and you wanna give her a head start?".

"Profanity is not required, Albert Wesker", the calmer individual countered, "This is an opportunity for you to observe our lady with those that you have created. It should dispel doubt as to the nature of that which you may possess".

With that, the mysterious guest placed the palm of his hands together in front of his face before separating them and making the shape of a giant circle, a mirror filling in the pathway created by his wrists. 

"You may observe", the dark stranger pointed towards the vertical creation, prompting Wesker to pay attention to its content instead of looking at the door that was now sliding back to a closed position.

Within the enchanted screen, the Umbrella scientist spotted the redhead on the floor that was above his current whereabouts as she was already busy engaging five zombies in hand to hand combat. The undead creature who was closest to her ended up getting its wrists caught by the teenager before she delivered a right front kick into its stomach. The zombie staggered back from the force of the strike before it fell on its back, leaving its two arms in Shakahnna's grasp because those two limbs had come off the rest of its body.

Wesker enjoyed seeing her fight, especially watching to see how long she could last with her unarmed struggle before the sheer number of the opponents overwhelmed her. But he then winced in anger when he heard her apologise to the armless zombie who was moaning incoherently at her before she rushed up to it and stomped her left foot down against its face, crushing it underneath her shoe. 

Even while that first zombie's headless and armless body twitched, Shakahnna turned towards a second zombie who was trying to grab her with its left hand. The teenager gripped that wrist with her own left hand before she pulled her left arm forward, yanking the stumbling creature with it. She then placed her right palm against the left side of the monster's head and finally slammed her adversary's head against the wall, crushing its forehead into the concrete. That second zombie slipped towards the floor, its destroyed skull leaving a trail of blood and bone on the wall till it rested in a horizontal position.

The third zombie reached for the redhead with both its arms, but was moving so slowly that she delivered a right crescent kick into its left knee, forcing that creature to crash down on its hands and knees. Shakahnna then tucked her head behind her arms as she rushed past the space that was between the fourth and fifth zombies there, easily running past them. She made her way towards the end of the hallway even while the last two standing monsters turned in her direction from dozens of yards away.

Wesker stopped watching for a moment, turning away from the impromptu screen and the dark host that created it as he paid attention to a monitor that was a few feet away.

"You have me convinced. But just out of, shall we say, morbid curiosity, I wish to try something else", the scientist addressed the man behind him.

"As you wish, Albert Wesker", the stranger with the powers replied, his attention still on the circular screen.

The shadow in the shape of a man continued watching that monitor, seeing Shakahnna's image within it as she ran across a metal supply table with wheels under it that contained several beakers on it, some of them full of various liquids. He was soon joined by the Umbrella scientist as they both watched the redhead quickly reading the content of the beakers themselves as she spotted several more zombies closing in on her from the front.

"Was just business as usual here before Weskie did this, wasn't it?", the teenager commented to herself, wondering who was transporting the table before the scientist's psychotic break most likely turned that person into one of these walking corpses.

The first zombie who closed in against her found itself on the receiving end of her attack as she picked up a large beaker of nitric acid by the glass neck and smashed the contents on the side of its face. The monster gurgled and moaned as half its face dissolved and it slowly fell down, eventually never moving again once it rested on the floor. Shakahnna didn't notice its final resting place because she first had to step back by instinct as a few drops of the acid struck her face, burning where it had contacted her skin. Yelping in response to the pain, the redhead then turned as she horizontally swung the broken glass beaker like a weapon. The broken base was shoved into the mouth of the second zombie within the group who had reached her position, and the sharp edges of the base dug into the lower half of the creature's mouth so deeply that she left the beaker in place there. With the glass base of the beaker forcing a circle around the zombie's mouth, it entrapped its lips within it and the beaker's protruding neck made it impossible for it to bite.

Shakahnna delivered a right uppercut to that second zombie who was unable to use its teeth as its primary weapon, knocking it down on the floor in a seated position. Even before she could concentrate on the remaining four monsters who were still on their feet, though, both she and they heard a scream that didn't sound human. She couldn't tell where it came from, but her curiosity as to its origin only lasted a few seconds as she then spotted two massive green creatures that were rushing towards her position from behind the zombies themselves. Considering that she could survive any death, even one that decapitated her, the girl knew that she didn't have to fear these new monsters themselves. After all, the worst fiend within this awful compound was Wesker himself, and he was a human being. So if she could just keep her wits about her, she would be able to get past these green gorillas and make it home without the scientist getting his hands on her again.

The two new interlopers bolted towards her, letting her see that they were actually shorter than the zombies themselves as their bodies were hunched. But what they might've lacked in height they more than made up for by the sheer mass of their legs and upper bodies while they both had enormous arms with four foot-long claws at the end of each hand that almost touched the ground. Shakahnna wondered how they were able to remain standing at all, considering how top-heavy they were due to their muscular torsos, much less being able to run so quickly. But she didn't have time to think about that fact for long because both olive-coloured monsters ran past the group of four zombies she was previously facing. Each green, hunched creature easily swiped the head of two zombies off, cleanly decapitating the human-like figures with ease. As four zombie heads rolled on the floor and four beheaded bodies fell down lifelessly, she was left alone with the two gorillas who were in hunter's green colours from head to toe.

Shakahnna spotted the monster on the right jumping up to take her own head off, except it didn't land in front of her or even on top of her. Instead, that first opponent leapt over the teenager's current position in a semicircle until it landed hard on its feet several feet behind her. It then turned around to face the redhead, effectively keeping her between it and the other gorilla it travelled with. 

These hunters were smarter than the regular zombie out there, on top of being more deadly, she thought to herself as she was staring in front of her and behind her between both foes who formed a straight line with her in the middle of it. In unison, both killers bolted towards her, their arms withdrawn as they were ready to swipe them at her neck.

The first monster who was behind her couldn't be seen as easily, thus it was the greater danger that should be dealt with initially. From their actions against the four now-dead zombies, she saw that these creatures preferred to swipe with the claws in their right hand first. So Shakahnna prepared for that kind of strike when she spotted the second one who was still in front of her walking in her direction at a slow pace, the claws on its feet clicking against the flat floor below. It was obviously sizing her up, even while the first monster who had leapt behind her to gain a tactical advantage jumped through the air again, this time aiming to take her head off.

The first creature had guessed her position to be in place as it landed with its right arm bent in an effort to swipe it at her neck. Counting the time it would've taken it to deliver the fatal blow, Shakahnna turned her face over her right shoulder as she took a large step backwards. The teenager met the front of the green creature with her back turned to it even before it had landed on its own two feet. Surprising it with her sudden danger tactic, the monster stumbled back to a standing position and, subsequently, felt the redhead gripping its right wrist with her own right hand. 

Screeching in surprise, the monster swung with its left arm after it realised that the smaller human was strong enough to hold on to its right wrist, refusing to let go. That prompted the second creature who was walking towards them both to bolt in their direction instead, with its claws outstretched, poised to attack. Seeing the first attacker's left wrist coming at her head, Shakahnna then used her own left hand to grip the base of the monster's second claws, thus keeping herself at a standstill with the wider opponent.

The teenager crossed her arms in front of her chest, thus bringing the larger, green arms from the ogre behind her to make an X below her chin. She then bent her upper body down as far as she could bring it, screaming from the strain of carrying the much heavier adversary from behind her until the green creature was precariously balanced upside-down on her back. She heard the monster's battle cry, adding to her own screams, as its head was nearly touching the floor while its legs dangled vertically towards the ceiling.

Shakahnna's legs shook from the strain of keeping her adversary in that position, even if she only did it for an instant, long enough for the first hunter who was rushing towards her with its blade ready to strike to reach her due to its momentum. That first monster didn't disappoint as it swung its right arm, three out of four blades on its right hand slicing through the second creature's lower back. Hearing the louder scream of pain as the creature's red blood poured all over the teenager, Shakahnna then stepped out to her own right, slipping from under the ogre she held on her back. That first creature fell first on its head, the top of its skull meeting the floor, before it then sprawled on its stomach, with the second monster's three claws still imbedded in its spine.

Returning to her fighting stance, the redhead saw the second ogre still trying to withdraw its right arm out of the lower back of its kin, but having a difficult time due to the force it had used to stab the claws in. But with the creature's right arm incapacitated, Shakahnna knew she needed to take advantage of the situation, so she used her own right arm to block her adversary's attempts to slash at her with its left claws. The human's right upper arm came into contact with the edge of the sharp talons, creating several deep gashes within her flesh. While that occurred, Shakahnna propelled herself into the second monster with her two arms stretched towards it and the thumbs of each hand protruding out of them. Both thumbs found their mark within the soft eye sockets on the hunter's face, creating a wet, sloppy sound as the redhead pushed the extended digits into the jelly-like orifices. 

The second monster wailed in pain as blood poured out of its left eye while a slimy clear liquid trickled out of its right one. Seeing the result, Shakahnna withdrew her thumbs out of its eyes and proceeded to bite the monster's nose, sinking her teeth into its scaly flesh. More blood followed from the middle of the ogre's face as its nose exploded, mixing with the crimson fluid from its left eye and getting into the teenager's mouth before she separated her face from the creature's. The hunter staggered back, blinded and in more pain than it ever felt before, as it finally withdrew its right arm from its brethren and swung its left claws without aim. Shakahnna was careful to stay out of its reach as she took a hold of the metal trolley that was near them. Lifting the carriage after taking a hold of one end of it with both her hands, the redhead swung it at the monster's bloodied head, the side of the wheeled metal tray crashing against its face.

The second monster slammed into the side of the wall and sank it a seated position, even while the human closed the distance between it and herself before mercilessly bludgeoning it. Killing this freak of nature now would mean that neither she, nor anyone else for that matter, would ever have to worry about it being on the prowl again. And even if it was once a person, which she wasn't even sure about, the teenager guessed that she was giving it some amount of peace to not have to be used in such a way ever again. So she swung the trolley down on its deformed skull over and over again, ignoring the pain and blood that was in her swollen right forearm.

---------------------------------

Wesker looked away from the magical screen after the sixth time that the redhead had struck his hunter over the head, a look of disgust on his face as he heard her continuing the assault on the catatonic monster long after he ceased viewing the battle.

"Are these not the results you hoped for, Albert Wesker?", his dark informant asked, the second man's voice full of confusion.

"Not when she was facing _two_ of _my_ hunters!", the scientist angrily replied, "They're supposed to be the most advanced foot soldiers there are for now, and they couldn't even do anything besides giving her a bloody arm, for christ's sake".

"But does that not prove that the goddess is what you thought and hoped she was?", the shadowy visitor asked.

"Yeah, sure, but damn, I need to improve what I'm feeding those hunters or _something_", the Umbrella researcher continued.

"Do I detect from your tone that you wish for this session to be over before any more of your soldiers are dead?", the less agitated individual asked, "Your soldiers weren't designed for this type of battle, after all. This is not a fight they can win".

"Look, I'm getting bored here. This is wasting my time", Wesker countered, "Either you bring her back here or _I_ will".

"Right away", his guest placed both palms together in concentration.

Turning his attention back on the circular mirror, the Umbrella official saw dozens of hands emerging from the walls before they grabbed Shakahnna's figure by her arms, legs and shoulders. Despite the teenager's constant attempts to pull her limbs free, even while she tried to bite away at the mystical attackers, she found herself being pinned against the wall that was nearest her. The repeated swearing and screams on the redhead's part were ignored from the screen as Wesker then saw his visitor bowing respectfully next to him. 

The dark individual vanished into the floor, and then re-appeared a few seconds later while holding on to the teenager by her left elbow. Wesker was already reaching for his firearm as Shakahnna grunted while she tried to swing at the spectre who had teleported her back to this chamber. But the man who was made out of shadows gently threw a powder residue out of his right hand into her face.

"Arresti tutto il movimento", the visitor yelled in a voice that almost sounded like it was someone else's.

As he finished making his statement, Shakahnna found it impossible to move at all, as she remained frozen in the same position she was while getting ready to deliver a right hook punch at her adversary's head. The only part of her that could still move were her eyes as they curiously searched around the room, wondering what had happened.

"You have _got_ to show me how you did that", Wesker smiled while holstering his weapon.

"Simple", the dark guest turned his attention towards the scientist, ignoring the teenager who was still frozen in place and facing a different direction.

The visitor reached within his pitch black figure and withdrew a paper scroll along with a small bag that was tied shut with a piece of string. He handed both items to the eager scientist, who gladly accepted the offerings before opening the parchment and visually combing its contents. Wesker then took a casual glance inside the bag after undoing the top part of it, then stared back at his informant.

"These are just rectangular-shaped bones!", the researcher in the white lab coat exclaimed.

"On the contrary, Albert Wesker", the second man calmly told him, "It's your way to keep her where she's needed. The scrolls describe, in detail, how to use the runes in combination with each other to keep the goddess frozen in place, to have her experiencing various sensations, for example".

As he talked, the mysterious stranger pointed in Wesker's direction a moment before one of the bones rose out of the open bag, floating in the air several inches in front of the scientist's face. Wesker saw that the rune had a vertical indentation on it, almost appearing to be a capital I.

"Isa", the silhouette pronounced as he threw more of the powder substance in the teenager's immobile face.

Even though Shakahnna couldn't move of her own accord, Wesker saw that her body was involuntarily trembling as her face began to take on a lighter colour and her lips slowly turned blue.

"That would represent coldness", the visitor then turned back to address the scientist, casually waving his hand in front of his own chest and allowing that rune to fall back into the bag that the man in the sunglasses kept holding, "This second one represents fire".

With that, a second rectangular bone floated out of the bag, one with an inverted V sign on its surface.

"Kenaz", the guest pronounced next as he threw more powder in the redhead's general direction.

The result was that Shakahnna's eyes widened as much as her current position would allow while she quickly regained the colour she had lost while being subjected to the freeze spell. Instead, she appeared to be normal within a few seconds, but then the teenager's face and hands that were not covered by the white lab coat began to blister, almost as if she was set on fire. The smell of burnt skin started filling the enclosed air of the room, confirming what Wesker's visitor had said.

The dark silhouette waved his hand in front of his torso for the second time, making the fire rune fall back into the container with the others, finally ending the burning torment that Shakahnna had experienced for what she felt was ages.

"There's much more in that bag, if you're only patient enough to read over the instructions given", the man with the magical powers addressed Wesker again.

"Don't worry about it from this end. I'll _make_ the time to look over this scroll", the scientist promised, feeling that this very eventful day had been the most productive that he ever had.

Instead replying to him, the pitch black individual turned towards Shakahnna's direction once more, looking intently into her frozen eyes for a moment before he placed his hands together and bowed.

"Sincerest regrets, my lady, but we do not fight for the same side. I mean no disrespect", he uttered before he stood back up to his full height and walked back towards Wesker's area.

"Just one more word of advice, Albert Wesker", he continued talking, but this time addressing the scientist instead, "You're playing with fire here, and I in no way mean the literal kind or having to do with the goddess back there. Where I come from, monsters are plentiful. They are so much part of everyday life that there is no species that is not hunted. Here, you have no monsters, people can grow up relatively without fear. In the end, the powers you may receive from the crimes you will surely commit may not be worth it. And although I fight alongside those who are probably described as the monsters, it makes me wonder how I would've turned out if I had a chance to grow in this world where you so eagerly wish to create those monsters, instead of mine where the monsters are natural. While I make no apologies for them, perhaps the atrocities that I have committed would not have taken place if I had the chance to do so".

"Hmm. Nice speech", Wesker grinned, "But if you're done, you obviously don't need any help being pointed at the door".

The scientist held on to the scroll and the bag of runes as he looked past the visitor and leered at Shakahnna's motionless form while she remained standing in place.

"I have experimentation to do", he told her more so than the dark silhouette who was in front of him, an air of triumph in the tone of his voice.

------------------------------------

Wesker's voice dripped with sarcasm as he made tutting noises and kept his distance from Shakahnna's vertical body that was still frozen in place.

"After all the vexation you caused me, this will make all the stress and physical pain I had to endure because of you worth it", the Umbrella employee informed her.

Considering she was unable to even lay a finger on him, though, the redhead suspected he was staying several feet away for the simple reason of wanting to avoid being hit with the projectile vomiting he had repeatedly induced her to have. It wasn't long before the teenager had literally lost every bit of food that she might've had in her stomach, those being the turkey leg, pint of rice and bottle of water that had been allowed to her a while ago. But contrary to what he had stated back when she was in the locked room, the scientist didn't appear to mind her being on an empty stomach now as he clearly enjoyed watching her throw up with every verbal command he gave to her motionless face while he held one of those runes. And due to the fact that she couldn't lower her head to look down at the floor while she threw up on his gleeful command, Shakahnna felt her stomach, throat and mouth straining with pain every time vomit shot out from between her lips, staining her white lab coat as well as the floor in front of her.

She couldn't be sure if Wesker was irate or not, although it probably didn't matter as bad things were happening now and were going to continue to take place regardless of how that sociopath felt. After all, the scientist was taking his time as he enjoyed finding out the many different powers the runes that he had been given allowed him to have over her, and none of those effects were positive ones, of course. And it really didn't matter whether he was doing them because he was angry at her for assaulting him earlier or for hindering his plans for experimenting on her by trying to escape. The biggest factor that Shakahnna had to deal with now was that, courtesy of the strange things that had been gladly handed to the maniac in the shades, there were now more ways for him to indulge in cruelty towards her. 

The shadow person who had been responsible for thwarting her escape from this damn place had been the same one from the dreams that the redhead had before, but where did he fit into all this? He was definitely polite towards her before he left this room, leaving her alone with the sadistic nutjob who unfortunately had all this funding to keep his research going. So courteous of the pitch-black colored stranger to bow and apologize for his actions towards her before he had the freedom to depart these premises, she thought to herself. She would have to remember how polite he was if she ever got the chance to escape this place alive and tracked him down so she could maybe return the favor one day. But before the thought was completed in her mind on how she might've done so by subjecting the mystery man to sunlight, the redhead retched again, this time throwing up only bile as her stomach must've been empty by now. 

The acidic pain in her stomach stopped after about half a minute, along with the flem that was coming out of her mouth, as the man in the sunglasses let go of the rectangular bone he was holding and allowed it to drop back into the bag in his arm. But that's when Shakahnna was made aware of a new kind of discomfort because, although the mystical forces were still keeping her immobile, they weren't holding her up, thus her muscles began to cramp from not being allowed to move. That, in addition to the freezing, the burning and the prospect of even more time with the sociopath, was having a very negative effect on the girl's level of depression. So her mood remained low as she watched the blond-haired man coming closer to her rigid form, with the container of runes always in his left hand and the scroll in his right. 

"Well, dear, it appears that we are all out of physical effects. But I promise you are just going to _love_ this one", Wesker grinned from an arm's reach away of Shakahnna's face, making the teenager furious at her inability to knock those damn runes out of his grip before she took a hold of his handgun and shot both his legs out from under him. 

The Umbrella scientist reached into his bag of tricks and withdrew yet another rectangular bone as he was reading through the parchment.

"Os", Wesker dryly pronounced as his left thumb and index finger gently held on to the rune he had picked out.

Almost instantly, Shakahnna heard herself moaning in disgust as she saw blood pouring out of the pores on her skin before the dark crimson liquid spilled out over the vomit stains of her lab coat and the floor by her feet. She didn't feel pain from whatever cuts in her body were creating this massive amount of bloodloss, but her attention was then diverted when she felt a wave of ants crawling up her arms. The hundreds of tiny insects made their way past the sleeves of the dirtied lab coat, and then crept onto her hands before digging through the pores of her skin, even while other ants climbed up her neck and entered the inside of her head. Shakahnna moaned louder as she saw the invading ants crawling under the skin of her cheeks. She wanted to scream when she felt some ants in her nose and behind her eyes and ears, but was still forbidden to do so due to her mouth being frozen just like the rest of her body was.

Both the blood and the incredibly aggravating ants disappeared together once Wesker dropped the rune back into the bag, leaving only the red stain that was on her upper right sleeve after her encounter with the green gorilla-type hunter and the vomit stains on her front from a few minutes ago. Shakahnna's eyes fluttered open and shut several times as she heard herself breathing harder while catching her breath. She wondered where all the insects had disappeared to, but realized what had happened within a few moments due to what the older man had stated before this particular nightmare took place. The whole thing was a hallucination, which was what Wesker meant by him running out of runes that delivered a physical effect.

"Anyway, as much fun as that was, I'm afraid I _do_ have chores I must attend to", the Umbrella scientist told her with a smile, even while she had to hear him over the sound of her own heaving breathing.

With that, Wesker walked over to a monitor and placed the scroll and bag of runes on a nearby table before he began typing a few words onto the keyboard. After a few seconds, Shakahnna heard a whirling sound from her left, so she instinctively turned her eyes as much in that direction as possible without moving her head. She saw the liquid being flushed out of one of the twenty cryotubes within the room, as a hatch must've opened at the bottom of the glass cylinder to let all the water out. After several moments, even the creature that was inside of it sank through the bottom of the floor, disappearing from inside the cylinder itself before the redhead heard that the hatch which was opened was now being closed. Shakahnna heard the older man typing a few more words at his keyboard, which was followed by the sound and then the sight of the empty cryotube being raised towards the ceiling. 

"I wasn't planning on doing this to one of the stasis chambers that was already in use by one of my past experiments", the older man commented with his attention still on the monitor, "But you _had_ to go damage my tube with that punch of yours. So let's make this situation right by sterilizing your new home".

Following a few more typed words, the redhead heard a wet sound coming from the raised platform that was above the level of her head and to the left. There was no word to describe how unhappy she was at the idea of being inside one of those tubes. 

Sighing, the scientist approached the immobile teenager. Once he had reached the area where she stood, he hustled her entire body by placing his arms around her waistline and lifting her several inches in the air before carrying her to the same spot that was directly underneath the raised glass cylinder. Keeping her standing pose in place against her wishes, the teenager remained there while the glass cylinder was lowered back around her until it touched the floor.

It was then that she spotted the researcher as he was placing six of the runes around the circumference of the cryotube on the floor. Wesker then reached into one of the outside pockets of his lab coat and withdrew the same kind of powder that the mysterious shadow-like visitor had used to keep the girl frozen in place. The scientist threw the substance against the outside surface of the cylinder an instant before Shakahnna felt her arms, legs and head protesting in pain as she could now move them again.

The redhead's first reaction was to ignore her sore muscles as she stretched out her jaw to undo the numb feeling there. Her second move was to turn her right hand into a fist before she punched the tube from inside it. But the teenager's eyes widened when the strike didn't even produce a crack in the glass. Frustrated, Shakahnna then kicked at it three times with her right leg, each attempt as unsuccessful as the punch that preceded them.

"What the _FUCK_?!…", she exclaimed to herself as much as to him, "This broked last time!". 

"Oh, I'm sorry", Wesker shook his head in mock sympathy, "You're just starting to find out the effect of the imprisonment runes that are at the base of your tube. They make it impossible for someone with your powers to break out".

That damn smile crept back on his face.

"Isn't knowledge a great thing? Thank god for the written word so it can be passed on. Don't you agree?", he continued even as the teenager felt a lump in her throat at imagining this place to be her permanent residence from now on.

"You just be human like me. You'll slip up one day. And when you do, I'll know it", she hissed back at him, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded.

"Actually, from what my transparent friend told me about you a little while ago, no, you're _not_ human", Wesker corrected.

"So, what? You going to torture me some more?", Shakahnna countered through the glass.

"The odds increase in possibility with each time you open your mouth", the scientist's regular facial expression returned.

The girl didn't answer, only opting to sit at the bottom of the cryotube with her legs curled up to her chin.

"What, no smart comebacks?", the older man taunted.

"Would anything I said really make any difference?", Shakahnna sighed without looking back at him.

"No, I suppose not. But I don't blame you for not having a reply", Wesker went on, surveying the room around him instead of looking down at her seated figure, "But you _are_ going to listen, if for no other reason than simply because I have no one else to brag to. Every damn person in this place is already foaming at the mouth, so they're not exactly the best company. My friend William, you know him, the Birkin fellow, has already given me a new virus to play with. It's based on a synthesis of _your_ DNA, you'll be pleased to hear. So soon, we'll see what you're able to pull when you're fighting with players in your own league, like the new improved me, for instance".

He smiled, proud of himself.

"Of course, you and I will be the only two who have any type of control over our thoughts", Wesker added, "Or even being the two who have any thoughts to begin with. Tyrants don't think much, I'm afraid. But that's what I'm here to change".

The teenager opened her mouth to reply, but then winced at the futility of holding a sane conversation with the other person in the room.

"Whatever", she brushed him off with a hint of the scorn she felt.

"Oh, no. You _will_ pay attention when I have something to say, dear", Wesker hissed back, getting more irate.

Shakahnna didn't know why, but she went against her better judgment considering this man had the ability, and definitely the will, to do something horrible every time she didn't play by his rules. So instead of trying to return him to his previous, jovial mood, she pointed her left knuckles in his direction and upraised the middle finger. She knew he only got more angry when she could see his white teeth, but the older man then hastily turned towards one of the keyboards and began pressing several buttons on it. 

The teenager jumped up from her seated position when she felt cold water emerging from the floor underneath her. She quickly stood on her bare feet, the lower half of her body already wet, and her eyes widened when she realized that the clear liquid was the same color that was in all the other tubes.

"Oh wonderful", she whispered out loud as the water reached her knees.

"Being in cryogenic stasis is probably going to hurt, a lot", the redhead heard her tormentor speak up as the water level was still rising.

Wesker approached the outside of her cylinder as the cold liquid crept to her chest.

"Imagine all the fun we're going to have here, just you and me", the scientist remarked in a tone that could've passed for friendly if the scenery was different.

As the water reached her neck, Shakahnna stood on her tiptoes while watching him as he traced the outline of her face on the surface of the glass with his right index finger. In addition to the danger of drowning, that sight by itself caused her to feel a lot of revulsion. 

She didn't wish to see any further as the man's index finger sketched the semblance of her shoulder and then went lower to do the outline of her curves. So the teenager closed her eyes and tried to keep her head facing upwards while concentrating on staying afloat as drowning had to be a horrible experience regardless of her ability to be revived.

Even while on her tiptoes, Shakahnna only had an inch of space left between her nose and the beginning of the water level, so she tried to desperately stay above that cold, wet void that threatened to engulf her. The girl attempted to tread water, feeling her limbs becoming sore because they kept thumping against the inner surface of the cylinder.

What's worse, the near-freezing water reached her forehead, causing her to throw a fit as her eyes took on a perfectly circular shape due to her horrible realization that she couldn't get out. Shakahnna clawed and kicked at the glass, feeling her body panicking as it demanded air but still never received any.

Her frantic effort lasted several more minutes even though she didn't know it because she was starting to become delirious due to the lack of oxygen to her brain. For a few instants, she thought she saw Chino standing outside the glass, waiting for her. But her lungs began to burn as they filled with water and her chest constricted as the muscles on her body seized up.

The redhead's body convulsed once before she stopped moving altogether and slowly sank to the bottom of the cylinder. Seeing the ultimate result, Wesker smiled at himself before turning away from the twenty vertical cryogenic tubes as he still had many errands to run. 

"Today is going to be a GOOD day", he gave a contented sigh while maintaining the grin on his face.

+++++++++++++++++++

July 24, 1998, 7:28PM

"What the hell's wrong with me?", captain Wesker asked himself as he continued feeling the constant soreness in his groin as he walked, not sure why that portion of his body was causing so much trouble while the cuts that he had acquired on his hands and face mysteriously disappeared.

Maybe the bruises he obtained by jumping through the mayor's office window weren't as deep as he remembered them, he thought to himself, which would explain why there's no sign of them anywhere on his body. But that still didn't explain why another part of his anatomy was throbbing when he knew for a fact that he didn't hurt it.

Regardless, the high-ranking RPD official was in his navy blue uniform as he proceeded towards his office door. He could tell that this building wasn't in the same condition that he left it because it was no longer a quiet environment full of normal conversations and the sporadic ringing of telephones. Instead, the police precinct was now full of officers, in uniform or in civilian clothes, who were rushing past him and taking part in heated discussions, even while dozens of phones rang non-stop in the background.

The first familiar person Wesker came across while nearing his office door was officer Frost, the young man appearing glad to see him as the Bravo member stood up from his chair, hanging up a phone as he did.

"Wes, where the hell have you been?! You _did_ say you'd be back in an hour, no?", the lower ranking officer addressed him as he stood up and walked towards the captain, "Did you find Shak? How badly did things go with the mayor?".

"What do you mean, Joseph? It hasn't been _that_ long since I left", Wesker countered, closing the distance between himself and the younger man.

"Wadda you mean? It's been…", Frost's answer was interrupted as they both heard footsteps running towards them. 

The two uniformed men turned their attention to see officer Chisholm jogging towards them, although Wesker wasn't sure where the rookie got the energy to move that quickly, considering that he looked even worse than the last time the captain had seen him. Wesker hadn't thought it'd be possible for Chisholm to be more tired than he did earlier today and still be functioning, but the youngest man there was proving him wrong as the rookie remained on his feet despite the serious problems he was currently facing. Those were the fact that his hair was even more unkempt than when the Umbrella operative had left the building to confront Michael Warren, the bags under the youngster's eyes were getting darker and heavier, and his RPD field shirt wasn't even tucked in any more. In addition, officer Chisholm appeared to be leaning against the wall nearest him after he stopped to address the captain and Frost.

"Captain, did you find her?", Chino blurted out as all three men heard and then saw officer Donnelly walking after the rookie at a slower pace.

"I'm afraid not", Wesker shook his head, "But I have some leads that I wish to follow now".

The most junior of the four men there sighed heavily at the response as Chino placed his right forearm against the wall and then planted his forehead into the arm itself.

"This isn't time to give up home", Wesker sharply countered, "We have to keep believing that your friend is still alive and…".

"Sir, do you know what's been going on here since you left?", officer Donnelly interrupted, the interjection being an unusual act in and of itself.

"No, afraid not. Please _do_ fill me in", the patrolman's superior countered in a cold voice, his sunglasses bearing down Donnelly's face.

"Eleven more people have been found dead", Frost answered on Donnelly's behalf, making Wesker feel even worse than he already did, "Every body savagely torn apart and mutilated. The goddamn phones have been giving birth non-stop with more calls with every goddamn passing minute".

"So you'll have to excuse us, sir, if we don't share your optimism about the girl's fate", Donnelly added.

Captain Wesker sighed, covering his own mouth with the right palm as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Conference, my office", he ordered after several seconds of silence.

Leading the three men towards his closed office door, Wesker was glad to see Frost turning away and momentarily using his arms to call other colleagues in his direction. As the RPD captain walked through the entrance to his personal work area, he spotted officers Branagh, Yuen and Brenner following the three original men he had been talking to.

"Please close the door", the Umbrella spy asked as he partially sat on his own desk.

Officer Brenner complied, leaving all seven men in the quiet room, finally uninterrupted by the near-chaos that was taking place in the rest of the building.

"Just out of curiosity, did any of you men happen to come across what's been causing all these deaths out there? When you were on patrol, I mean?", Wesker started with a question.

"Nothing", Frost shook his head, "Nothing out of the ordinary. Just people dropping dead here and there when no one's looking".

"It _looks_ like bite marks", Brenner continued, "The autopsy results are in from the first four bodies. The first appears to have been killed by a dog, fair enough. But the other three who were examined had human teeth marks. Maybe some crazy cannibal cult shacking up in the mountains, or something?".

"Yeah, or something", Wesker answered as he stood up straight and placed his hands within the uniform pockets, "Here's the story, guys. First off, the next time you see our beloved mayor on TV telling you how he busted up his arm at a skiing accident, that's a lie".

A smile crept over the captain's lips regardless of the seriousness of this situation.

"That arm was courtesy of me today", he continued, having the undivided attention of all six men, "Second, I expect this situation here to get worse, _much_ worse, before this nightmare is over. It will probably involve placing this city under martial law, at least for a while, while these killers are found and all those who are behind them are tracked down. Third, I expect to be spearheading the campaign to remove these sons of bitches off our streets, and in the process, I don't expect to remain a cop after the smoke clears. So instead of wasting time answering questions that I'm unable to, I'm gonna let you guys in on the plan. You with me?".

Wesker thought to himself that the officers he was talking to probably believed that he was anticipating the loss of his rank and possibly job after he went above the law for bringing the Racoon City killers and all those who had knowledge of them to justice. In truth, the Umbrella mole knew that, once his original employer and all of its criminal actions were exposed to the public, then his status as an Umbrella employee would be common knowledge also. That is why he couldn't divulge the whole truth to the individuals who were in his office now, due to the concern of not having them follow him if they knew where he came from when he had such an important job to do. But while he was still temporarily a high-ranking member of the RPD, he was going to use his position to destroy Umbrella Inc to the best of his abilities.

"Yeah!", Chino blurted out while three of the other men nodded their heads.

"Anyone who doesn't wish to do as I say is free to walk out of here now, but since you came in voluntarily anyway, I'm thinking you're not the type", the captain continued his speech, "Let me say also that, when the smoke _does_ clear later on, which it will, I expect every one of you to tell anyone who asks that you were forced into following my orders and thus won't be held responsible for the storm that follows in the press. So on to the plan".

Wesker breathed in and out once as he started pacing the floor in front of his desk.

"Marvin, I want you to contact every RPD officer and tell them to report to this precinct _now_", he began talking, "No vacation, no sick time. Anyone who isn't in a hospital needs to be _here_ in riot gear, ready to go out on intensive, 24/7 saturation patrol".

"What's going on here?", officer Yuen blurted out.

"Trust me, it'll take much longer to try to explain than it would to do something about this problem", the Umbrella spy replied, "Suffice it to say that there's a numerous number of killers out there who are hunting this city's population, and they won't stop till we _make_ them stop".

"Oh", was all Yuen could think of saying, his facial expression revealing that he wasn't satisfied with the answer, but also that he didn't think this was the time to press his superior over it.

"Officer Brenner, I want to contact the state police, National Guard, Army and any federal agencies you can think of", Wesker addressed the second man in front of him, "We need manpower, as much as can be spared. Tell them that this city's experiencing a state of emergency as of now. After that, I want you to contact the Racoon Sheriff's department, the Racoon county jail as well as the Racoon probation/parole office. Find the highest-ranking person there and put in a request to have whoever has any kind of experience pulled off their current duty and brought here to supplement our patrols. On top of that, officer, I want you to find someone else within this building who is not in this office now and give him an order from me personally to do a full inventory of our equipment, both here and in other precincts – weapons, body armour, vehicles, first aid kits".

"Yes, sir", officer Brenner answered, trying to remember everything he had been told to do.

"Both of you, start now, please", Wesker went on, prompting Branagh and Brenner to leave the office to start carrying those orders out.

Everyone waited till the office door was closed behind both men before continuing.

"Now, as for the rest of our planning, guys", the captain went on, "I'm basically sure that our esteemed mayor and his wife are full of shit. I agree with officer Chisholm there that they had something to do with Shakahnna's disappearance. I wasn't able to get either one of them to spill it because their damn security showed up. So I intent to go back there tonight to raise the stakes. To give you a clue as far as what we're dealing with, I don't expect the mayor, or his wife, or his security staff to cooperate. That's why we're going to take both Alpha and Bravo teams with you and me to first subdue their security guards, and once that occurs, you men officially won't be there any more".

He noticed Chisholm's weary eyes brightening up, however slightly, at the latest development.

"Basically, whatever I need to do to those people is _gonna_ get done until they tell me where one of our own is, whether she's dead or not", Wesker coldly added, having stopped pacing as he stared at the four remaining men, "So _do_ expect some form of resistance before their security staff throws in the towel, but I do expect us to subdue them in no time. Which brings me to you two officers".

Wesker looked intently at Chino and Donnelly as he finished speaking.

"Officer Chisholm, you are not accompanying us to raid the mayor's mansion", the captain dryly stated.

Even before Chino had the chance to open his mouth in protest, Wesker cut him off.

"You're too tired to be effective when it comes to answering phones right now, much less being armed in a possibly dangerous situation with hostile forces", the Umbrella spy explained, "You and I both know that you'll be a liability rather than an asset out there. So I'm ordering you to go home and get some rest".

"Fuck no!", Chino barked back, "I'm not…".

"Look, chances are that Shak's more hardy than your regular person out there", Wesker interrupted him again, "And how happy do you think she'd be in the state you're in just now? I want you to go someplace that's not your home. Can you think of such a place?".

"Yeah, sure, my parents. But why?", the rookie asked with an angry look on his face.

"That's not important", the captain said, remembering that he and the young man were specifically named as being ordered to not be allowed into the mansion, thus Umbrella might've been trying to watch them both by now, plus the fact that Shakahnna often frequented his home.

"Just leave a phone number to your parents where we can reach you if anything happens. But don't go to _your_ home till you hear from me personally", the captain followed through, feeling his throat as it got drier, "I want you to go to your parents and get some sleep already, will you? As for you, officer Donnelly, I want you to drop your partner off at his parents' address, then drive to judge Jackson's house. I want you to explain what's been going on and DO NOT leave Jackson until he signs a search warrant for the Warrens' mansion. Then come meet us at the mansion alone with it. That should make it slightly less illegal for everyone who's following me".

"Fine!", an agitated Chino hastily wrote his parents' address and phone number on a yellow piece of paper before placing it on the captain's desk.

The rookie left the office with his older partner, leaving Wesker alone with Yuen and Frost.

"Are you OK with what I just said, officer Yuen? I need to know that you're with us 100%. If not, you _are_ free to go. Just don't mention this conversation to anyone", the superior RPD official asked, guessing that Frost wouldn't have any problems with his idea.

"If the mayor's so corrupt so as to kidnap that girl _and_ know something about these deaths, then hell yeah, I'm in", Yuen told both men.

"Good, that's good", Wesker commented before changing the subject, "And speaking of STARS, where the hell is agent Chambers? I was supposed to meet this girl eight hours ago and haven't seen anyone from Bravo team except for Joseph all day long".

It was just then that a knock was heard from outside his office door before the person who knocked opened the door itself instead of waiting for a reply. A woman who was dressed in the RPD field uniform walked past the entrance, making her way into the office, though shy of reaching the three men there. Wesker guessed that she was younger than Frost, but didn't have time to think about her age longer than that because he saw the STARS patch that was on both her sleeves.

"Sir?", the young woman looked past both other men and greeted the captain himself.

"Chambers?", Wesker asked back, thinking the STARS agent showed up just as he was talking about her.

"Uh, no sir", the new officer went on, leaving the door open behind her, "I'm Valentine. I just was told by agent Redfield that I should introduce myself".

"Valentine? As in Jill, from the Alpha team?", the captain didn't bother extending his right hand towards her as the tension he was feeling from all the day's occurrences didn't leave any desire to socialise at the moment.

Instead, Wesker crossed his arms in front of his chest, as Frost noticed he always did when angry or concentrating on a particular topic.

"Yes sir. Very eager to work with your command", Valentine replied, not appearing nervous due to her superior's cold demeanour.

"Agent Valentine, good to meet you. But tell me this – do you know where in the world agent Chambers may be?", the Umbrella spy went on.

The female officer widened her eyes, almost like she wasn't sure if the older man was asking her a stupid question as a test or if he was truly in the dark after recent events.

"Uh, sir, I was under the impression you knew. Agent Chambers is with the rest of her Bravo team", the young woman finally uttered.

"And they would be where?", Wesker turned his attention towards Frost for a moment, getting a shrug of the shoulders from the young man, indicating he didn't know what Valentine was talking about either.

"Captain, Bravo team flew out towards Racoon Forest late yesterday", agent Valentine informed everyone else in the room, "To be honest, they haven't reported in yet, which is strange. If anything, I thought that _you_ were staying in touch with captain Marini while the rest of us weren't".

"Oh, dammit", the Umbrella spy sighed as he placed his face within the palm of his hands, "I sure as hell didn't give any orders for Bravo to be flying off. Where the hell did that order come from?".

Wesker was thinking more to himself, as he didn't expect the three officers there to know more about the status of half the STARS team better than he did.

"That would've been chief Irons, captain", Jill Valentine commented, surprising him for the second time since he had met her, "He said it was to investigate the three separate cadavers who were found on the outskirts of the forest just yesterday".

The older man partially lowered his hands towards his neck, looking at her past the tip of his fingers. Countless thoughts ran through Wesker's mind at once. Not only was Umbrella Inc. in the business of doing human experiments and used to making people disappear if they came close to finding out about those practices, he now had to deal with a crooked chief of police. After all, Brian Irons was working undercover for Umbrella, just like him, or so Wesker had thought. But what if Irons' involvement was deeper than his and the chief knew about everything that Claymont was doing, all the while keeping him in the dark once he was ordered to do so by the Umbrella higher-ups? Racoon Forest was the location for Umbrella's main lab, and considering that the monsters which were sneakily over-running the city came from that source, the chief had knowingly sent Bravo team into the middle of a gigantic hornet's nest.

"All three of you, please stay here and wait for my return", Wesker finally cleared his own head as he made his way past the three rank-and-file officers and exited the office.

---------------------------------

The man in the shades briskly walked towards the bureau that housed Irons, ignoring the constant noise that surrounded him from everyone at the precinct. Once nearing the closed door for the chief's office, Wesker opened it without knocking and was glad to see his superior seated behind the desk. Irons turned his face towards the unwelcome visitor as he was still on the phone. Wesker walked inside the office, closed the door behind him and casually made his way towards Irons' desk before he took a hold of the phone receiver out of the older man's hand and hung up the phone. 

"You insolent…", an angry chief Irons looked up into the younger man's sunglasses as he began to protest.

It's all he got to say before Wesker delivered a quick right jab to his round face, knocking the head of police senseless as the back of Irons' skull met the chair behind him. While the older moaned and held on to his painful jaw with both palms, Wesker stood up straight and glared down at him from across the wooden work area.

"You can already tell what kind of mood I'm in, _boss_", the younger Umbrella employee growled, "So unless you want more of the same, start talking about where you sent the Bravo team and why".

"What the fuck are you talking about? Why is that a concern of yours?", Irons looked up at him from the seated position, "I got orders just like you. Take it up with Claymont or something".

"Our dear vice president is too busy getting his cock sucked. Plus, he's gotten into the habit of ignoring me as of late", the man in the shades coldly replied, still remaining on his feet, "So guess who that leaves me with when it comes to my wanting information? Spill it!".

"Umbrella's orders is that I don't have to explain myself to you, you stupid…", Irons reached for his sidearm with the right hand as he blurted out.

Being at the end of his patience, captain Wesker dove over the desk and gripped his opponent's right wrist with his own left hand. He thus forced the head of police to keep the pistol in its belt holster before delivering a stronger right jab into the nose of the middle-aged man. Irons screamed as blood erupted out of his nostrils, instinctively reaching for his nose with his free left hand. Even while blood poured over the older man's left fingers, Wesker grabbed him by the back of the head with a right grip and slammed his face into the surface of the desk with all the strength he could afford.

"Why did you send the Bravos out towards the Umbrella labs?!", Wesker barked at the still seated man, quickly removing the chief's weapon out of the holster before the captain held on to the pistol with his own left hand.

"What the fuck's wrong with _you_?", Irons stood up from his chair, using his right sleeve to wipe blood off the lower half of his face, "I don't have time for your conscientious bullshit. Orders came from Umbrella to have a group of officers sent to that area. I don't know what's planned for them, and I don't care! Umbrella was under some goddamn notion that the STARS were no longer here, don't know why. But as long as they were, the Bravos looked bored just sitting here doing nothing anyway. Now get the fuck out of my office!".

The older man pointed past Wesker with a left index finger, aiming towards the door as he finished talking.

"Which section of the forest were they sent to?", the junior officer with the sunglasses questioned further as he removed the clip of ammunition from the chief's weapon and then discharged the one bullet that was in the chamber.

"The northeast! What the fuck does it matter to you?! Get lost!", the head of police barked back, still pointing at the door.

"OK, that's the first thing I wanted to know. Now for the second", Wesker continued, still not moving from his position as he threw the empty pistol on the wooden desk, "What do you know about Umbrella and Claymont's activities? How illegal are we talking about?".

Irons shook his own head incredulously, as if the RPD captain had said something that was as silly as asking him if he could breathe under water.

"Unless you want to lose whatever ugly face you have, talk already!", the younger man slapped his own right fist into the left palm of his hand.

"OK, asshole, you wanna play mind games? Then fine. Anything to shut you up and get you the hell out of my office", Irons sat back down, "Why the hell are you even asking me? You know about their escapades as much as me, if not more so. You're more corrupt than _I_ am. You make me look like a fucking boy scout in comparison. Hell, I may look the other way, but I ain't the one who gets a hardon by cutting people open like you do".

"Have you and that Warren idiot been having a sleepover together where you sniff the same crack pipe or something?", Wesker countered, "I never knew a thing about this until I found out that Claymont's been lying to me for ages. But _you_ seem to know a whole lot more. I could probably fill a book with all you know about Umbrella, considering they did human experiments and you just _let_ them".

"Yeah, it comes under 'I looked the other way', but I wasn't the one holding the damn scalpel, you perverted shit", the chief said from his seated position, "I really don't have time for these momentary attacks of conscience on your part. Get the hell out".

"I wasn't doing any of that! YOU'RE the one who's responsible for letting these monsters out on this city!", Wesker barked back.

"Boy, if you're not out by the count of three, I'm having your ass busted for insubordination. I have no problem handing you back to Umbrella and you can be on the receiving end of a scalpel for once instead of always being the one who dishes out the punish…", the chief was interrupted as his younger tormentor swiftly withdrew the Desert Eagle out of its belt holster with the right hand.

Even before Irons could scream due to thinking he was about to get shot, Wesker reached past the desk again and slammed the side of the weapon against the left side of the older man's forehead. The police chief yelled out in pain as he found himself crashing on the floor next to the chair. Even while the portly man was busy climbing back up to a standing position, the RPD captain delivered a second blow to the back of his skull, flattening the heavier man's body on his stomach against the office floor.

Wesker could still hear the older man groaning in pain as new blood from his forehead stained the floor below his face. The captain was busy holstering his Desert Eagle when the door to the office opened from outside, an unknown patrol officer peeking his head through the entrance. The younger patrolman's eyes bulged and his mouth dropped open when he saw what was taking place here, so Wesker was quick to shoo him away with the left hand, even as Irons was trying to climb back on his hands and knees.

"Nothing to see here, officer", the RPD captain ordered, "We're just having a domestic. Please return to your duty".

The young man shuddered and then complied, pulling his head out of the doorway and closing the door behind him. Once Wesker was alone with the head of police again, he addressed the person who was severely beaten on the floor.

"I'm taking Alpha team and getting the Bravos back here in one piece", the captain hissed at the back of his opponent's head as Irons didn't try to look back up at him, "If any of them are dead, then I'm coming back for you, and not to arrest you either. Everything I did to you so far was as payback for what you did to the Bravos, but it's gonna get _much_ worse for you if they're no longer in one piece". 

Before turning towards the closed office door, Wesker raised his right leg and delivered a kick under the chief's chin, knocking the large man through the air before Irons landed hard on his back.

"That last one was because I just don't like you", the captain informed as he took notice of the chief's rising and falling stomach while the older man tried hard to keep breathing.

----------------------------------

The walk back to his own office took less time than it did to reach the chief's work area, and as Wesker re-entered his own personal space, he was glad to see that Frost, Yuen and Valentine were still waiting for him as instructed.

"What's up, Wes?", Frost greeted him first as the young man stood up from the seated position on the captain's desk.

"Joseph, I'm not sure how, but the Bravo team was sent away without your knowledge, but I'm glad you missed the call", Wesker informed him, "But as of now, you're officially transferred to STARS Alpha team, and we're going on a rescue mission to get our compatriots back".

Wesker first looked for and found the yellow piece of paper that officer Chisholm had left on his desk. Picking up his own phone, he dialed that number and waited about half a minute until he counted ten rings on the other end. When no one picked up, the captain slammed the receiver back down.

"Any chance you can clue us in as to what's going on here?", Yuen inquired, careful to not get too close to him considering he could see specks of blood on the captain's uniform.

"Sure. The raid on the mayor's mansion has to be put on hold", Wesker commented to all three individuals, though he already knew that Valentine didn't know what he was talking about, "We need to fly to Racoon Forest and bring Bravo team back. But no one's picking up the phone at Chisholm's parents' house, so officer Donnelly will still be trying to meet us at the Warrens' place, but we won't be there like he expects. At least not yet".

The Umbrella spy picked up the yellow piece of paper and pointed the words that were written on them to officer Yuen.

"Do you know where this is?", Wesker asked.

"Yeah, sure. Why?", the patrolman took a hold of the paper himself.

"I need you to rush there, sirens on, and wait for Chisholm and Donnelly to show up. Tell them to get the warrant from judge Jackson, but bring it back _here_ and wait for me instead of meeting us at the mayor's mansion. Got it?", the RPD captain stated.

"Sure. No problem", the younger man headed towards the only door to the office before leaving.

"Valentine", Wesker addressed the woman next.

"Sir", the younger STARS member replied.

"Gather every member of Alpha team, bring them back here now", the captain ordered.

"On my way", the female officer followed Yuen out of the office in her own turn, leaving Wesker and Frost alone.

"Joseph, I have a job for you too", captain Wesker walked past the younger man as he headed towards the secret compartment that was in his wall.

Squatting in front of it, the Umbrella operative opened the fake tile like he had done earlier and withdrew the small metal box that contained his flathead rounds as well as a larger wooden crate with a US ARMY logo printed on it.

"What is…", was all Frost got to say as the older man was withdrawing those boxes from inside the wall itself in front of him.

"I need you to take this to the helicopter pad. Do you know where that is?", Wesker asked, pointing towards the rectangular wooden crate.

"Yeah, yeah", Frost nodded, approaching the spot where the older man was on the floor.

"Then please do so. Leave it inside the helicopter and then return here at once", the superior officer asked while standing and placing several clips from the metal box into his uniform pockets.

As Joseph Frost grunted while balancing the mysterious crate on his right shoulder, Wesker closed the fake tile back against the wall, thus hiding his secret compartment.

The older man sighed, partly in exhaustion and partly in frustration as he brushed both his hands through his blonde hair while watching Frost leave the office with the large package. Wesker could already feel the level of his own adrenaline increasing as he then placed his hands over his own clothes, making sure that all eleven flathead clips were there while the twelfth was inside the handgun itself. Oddly enough, the RPD captain only felt ten clips tucked away within his uniform, while he knew that a full clip rested inside his Desert Eagle. He momentarily wondered where the last clip was, but also knew that he didn't have long to think about it.

He was ready to turn this city upside-down once his colleagues from STARS alpha team returned to his office, and that's all that counted.

-----------------------------------

"Thanks for coming on such short notice", captain Wesker was soon staring back at agents Barry Burton, Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine and Joseph Frost, in succession, "I'm not sure where agent Vickers is either, so it's already been decided that, should we not find him, agent Redfield will make a fine substitute. At least he should, assuming what I heard about his background is true and not something he made up to impress agent Chambers".

None of the four individuals in front of him laughed, or even smiled, for that matter, as the captain's voice reverberated through the room due to the fact that the door was closed.

"OK, I suppose the comedy routine isn't called for tonight", the Umbrella spy sighed, "Then here it is – Irons is just a damn politician who's on the take and whose sole obsession is getting ahead in his career. That's the reason he blindly sent Bravo team into a dangerous and uninformed situation, just to appear as if he's doing something about these multiple murders in front of the cameras".

The four agents said nothing out loud, but the murmurs and whispers that emanated from the Alpha officers indicated that, while they weren't surprised that chief Irons may be corrupt, they were definitely taken aback that Wesker stated so out loud.

"But we are police", Wesker continued after catching his breath, "We don't bend to political pressure. And we have comrades to rescue. I, for one, am not happy just sitting here waiting for someone else to save Bravo team from whatever monsters are plaguing this city, whether those monsters be human or not. Bravo team could be dead by tomorrow morning if we don't go after them now".

Captain Wesker reached behind him and withdrew several colour photographs from atop his desk before handing them to agent Burton. Burton then looked at each picture in the pile before handing the stack to agent Redfield.

"I'm almost certain that our great chief didn't show these to captain Marini or his men before sending them out to confront the murderers who are causing such deaths", Wesker pointed out as a word of caution to warn his followers of the people they were supposed to hunt, "The first two pictures there are autopsy photos that show victims of regular animal attacks. The third through the eighth, on the other hand, are autopsy pictures of the victims we've had here in Racoon City. As you can see, the latter have been attacked more savagely and thus have been literally ripped apart. We suspect we may be dealing with cannibalistic survivalists. Those who are typically armed to the teeth, and we suspect, in this case, have been breeding dogs to be ferocious killers since the two types of casts taken of teeth marks resembled human _and_ canine. Plus, those canine marks didn't match any dogs that are known".

He finished talking as he noticed that agent Frost had seen all eight pictures.

"Now, just because our chief is asleep at the wheel does _not_ mean that we are, so I'm assuming charge of this precinct and organising a search and rescue party as of now. Anyone wishing to abide by Irons' protocol to not get involved can refuse to join me without consequences. And those who stay with me should later on claim that you were not informed of Irons' wishes and I pretended to be following his orders to intentionally enlist your help behind his back, so as to avoid repercussions for yourselves tomorrow".

"I can't speak for anyone else here, but count me in, Wes", agent Frost commented.

"Thank you, Joseph", Wesker smiled for an instant before addressing all four people there, "Now, for those who wish to fly, you need to be wearing your standard kevlar vest, _and_ make sure to load the Alpha helicopter with an assault rifle with multiple clips for every person who's going to be present, and that includes Vickers if we find him".

"So what are we waiting for?", agent Redfield asked, "Let's head".

Jill Valentine opened the door to the office and was the first to exit it as she checked the status of her 9mm pistol while marching towards the helicopter pad. Burton followed her, then Redfield, then Frost and finally Wesker as all four men formed a line after the young woman, with the captain closing the door behind him.

"Wes, just out of curiosity", Frost whispered to his superior officer as they made their way through the busy precinct, "What was in that heavy crate you had me take to the chopper?".

"Hopefully something we won't have to use, Joseph", Wesker murmured back, "But it's there in case we need to blow up a building or two. Or more than two, even".

It was only then that Chris Redfield spotted agent Brad Vickers from across a noisy room, past several uniformed officers and civilians.

"YO BRAD!", Redfield waved his right arm towards the computer specialist who was seated at a desk and intently typing on a keyboard.

The Alpha team computer whiz winced at being noticed by his colleagues, as if he desired to continue playing with the many central processing units within this building. But Redfield's insistence that he finish his current task and join them won him over after a few seconds, so agent Vickers saved his work and stood up from his chair before jogging towards the rest of the Alpha squad.

"Hey", was all Vickers uttered when he reached the small group, eyeing everyone from Valentine to Wesker in turn.

"Agent Vickers, I presume?", captain Wesker smiled as he placed his right arm around the younger man's shoulders, noticing that the agent was introverted, "Hello, I'm Albert Wesker, captain of Alpha team".

Vickers only lowered his face as he shyly kept his eyes locked with the older man's sunglasses, obviously very uncomfortable.

"I'm afraid we have orders from chief Irons, agent Vickers", Wesker lied, "Seeing as to how you're the best pilot here, the chief required that you fly us over a certain spot at Racoon Forest and drop us off. You'll just have to wait there till we do a bit of recon and then return us here. It won't be anything major".

It was obvious that agent Vickers didn't wish to leave the building, as he was probably more comfortable taking apart and then reconnecting computers together than he was at dealing with other people.

"Uh, yes sir", Vickers finally uttered, "You can count on me".  
"Good, then let's go", Wesker withdrew his arm from the young man's shoulders and patted him on the back once, "We just have to drop by the armoury before we get into the copter".

It was now six Alpha agents who headed towards the RPD arsenal to retrieve that same number of assault rifles, even as the reason behind the weapons was kept secret from their pilot.

"Should be an interesting evening", Wesker whispered to himself only as they were getting closer to their destination.


	18. Chapter 18 Assault on the mansion

This is the novelization of a remix of the Gamecube and PSX version of RE1, we made the commandos be more realistic and removed some of the stupidity *cough Barry master of unlocking cough*. Hope you all enjoy! 

The silence lasted longer than it was expected to, the only sound that could be heard being the muffled noise of the helicopter blades twisting overhead which passed for quick thumps through the two closed doors. The intensity seen on the face of every member of the Alpha team revealed how they must've felt. It was obvious that each person from the hoodwinked chopper pilot to the only RPD officer that team captain Wesker had any connection to carried a face and demeanour to reflect the apprehension and possible fear those men and one woman experienced. The agents were so involved in their own thoughts that the captain couldn't even observe any of them clearing their throat, indicating no one was relaxed enough to ask the obvious questions. Wesker thought his followers' apprehension was most likely a positive variable anyway, the better for them to be sharp because of it rather then being relaxed and unprepared if the worst should happen.

His own features, of course, showed off no sign of the stress his mind felt, as those eternally-present shades kept the tightness in his throat and the mild cramp in his stomach from ever appearing on his face. So Wesker brushed his left fingers over the handle of his holstered Desert Eagle for the tenth time since the Alpha team helicopter lifted off, even while the weight of his Glock pistol remained strapped to his right ankle. So while Wesker's hand lightly gripped the .50 calibre handgun below the constant whirs of the helicopter blades, the former Umbrella employee's determined gaze met someone else's across the small crowd. The captain kept his eyes locked with Joseph Frost's for several seconds, neither he nor the younger man looking away. The newest member of Alpha team said nothing, but he quietly widened his eyes, nonverbally asking his older superior for an explanation of what the latter knew about their current situation. Trusting Wesker was one thing, but Frost could easily tell that the mysterious man in the shades knew more about whatever was happening right now than he was willing to say.

The explanation that chief Irons was corrupt and had sent Bravo team into a dangerous situation without those officers' best interest in mind was obviously credible, and the young man wanted to believe that's all there was. But he also couldn't avoid the feeling that Wesker still owed everyone here a further explanation.

Unfortunately for him, such an explanation wasn't being offered at the moment, as the Alpha team leader eventually broke their eye contact and looked towards agents Redfield and Valentine. So confronting Wesker was not something that Frost could do now, but still promised to himself that he would go through with it once they found Bravo team and brought those members back to RPD headquarters. But regardless of how long tonight's mission would last, the young man was ready to demand that his older supervisor, mentor and sometimes friend tell him everything, instead of just brushing him off with Wesker's usual over-dramatic jargon. 

So agent Frost finished loading his favourite assault shotgun before checking to see if the complimentary flashlight which was attached to the weapon worked as expected.

"Are you alright?", Wesker spoke up first as he continued staring into agent Redfield's direction.

He wasn't sure why he asked his colleague such a question. Possibly to break up the tension within these tight quarters, as Wesker knew that long-term intensity would surely wear people out.

"Yeah, yeah", the younger man nodded his head, looking in the captain's direction for a moment before returning his attention back outside the left-hand side window, visually combing the almost pitch black carpet that lay a thousand feet below their flying transport vehicle, "Just wondering what kind of people would be eating their own kind. And hoping that we'll find our guys before they run into them".

"Same here", agent Valentine added.

"And I don't mind telling you that Irons is gonna get it for fucking with us for the sake of the press once we're back", Redfield continued, his face partially reflecting off the glass he was staring out of, "And I don't even _care_ if he's noticed that we were off against his orders".

"Let _me_ worry about Irons, youngster", Wesker momentarily grinned before returning to his usual expression.

"There!", Frost exclaimed, pointing his right index finger past Redfield's head and towards the same window as he was looking out of it also.

Everyone except the pilot rushed over to the left part of the helicopter, eagerly looking towards a patch of sky that the youngest man there was indicating. 

Sure enough, a billow of smoke was rising out of the trees below, creating a silhouette against the ever-darkening blue skyline.

"Oh, shit", Valentine uttered as she turned her attention back at Frost, knowing that he was the team's official vehicle expert, thus could hopefully explain what kind of a fire would create such a result.

"Enrico just went over every inch of that copter himself", agent Burton blurted out to no one in particular, worry showing on his face, "I've known him for _years_! He's meticulous. He'd never allow his men to fly off in a copter that wasn't guaranteed to be safe. What kind of heat could these bastards be packing to bring down Bravo team's transport?".

"Hold on. We don't know if that's _even_ Bravo team's, or a helicopter, for that matter", Wesker interjected, the constant worry he's been feeling ever since finding that first body several days ago having gotten worse.

"This _was_ the general area where they were before we got cut off, no?", Redfield cut in.

"Only one way to find out", the captain looked away from the three men and the woman there and walked towards the pilot's cockpit while maintaining a crouching position.

Agent Vickers was taken aghast at the presence of a surprise visitor in his personal area, but only turned his head behind him for an instant before paying attention to the area ahead of him again.

"Brad, we need you to land", Wesker placed his left hand on the pilot's right shoulder.

"W... WHAT?!", Vickers verbally stumbled, "Land _where_?".

"As soon as you find any type of flat clearing down there", the Alpha team captain replied with more confidence than he felt.

"Y... Yes, sir", the pilot nodded his head as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Good, good", Wesker patted the younger man on the back as he returned to the other four agents in the rear of the helicopter.

------------------------------

"Alright, team, this is it", the team captain announced loudly to be easily heard over the rotors' noise as all five individuals were busy strapping themselves to the bolted chairs via seatbelts, "Vickers is gonna put us down as close to the source of the fire as possible. For all we know, it may be a campfire gone wrong. But if not, I want all of us to be ready for the worst".

He heard four sets of nods and agreements from the other agents as everyone was finished being secured in a relaxed, sitting position while they could feel the helicopter's altitude dropping.

"Another thing, people", Wesker continued, checking his .50 calibre handgun and ammunition yet again, "Next to each of your seats, you'll find a loaded M-16 assault rifle with a flashlight attachment. I assume you all have experience with those weapons?".

"Yeah, why?", Redfield answered as Valentine quietly nodded her head.

"Keep your Berettas on you, but only as a back-up", the captain went on, still maintaining a loud voice, "The main weapon upon disembarking from our transport should be the M-16's for each of you. Check them now to make sure they're all ready, but I don't expect any problems since yours truly was the one who placed them there to begin with".

The end of his statement prompted Frost to turn yet another accusing face towards him, and Wesker found himself locking eyes with the younger man for the second time in as many minutes. The captain said nothing, but the expression that was staring back at him demanded an explanation, even while one wouldn't be provided at the moment.

"Agent Frost doesn't need to use it, seeing as to how he's already properly armed", Wesker spoke up while looking away from the suspicious glare, "But the rest of you three, please do as a I ask".

Agents Burton, Redfield and Valentine did as instructed, reaching next to them and withdrawing the upgraded M-16 rifles. It was only while they were undoing the safety mechanisms to the weapons and turning on the attached flashlight that Valentine noticed the lack of movement on the captain's part.

"Where's yours, sir?", the only woman there asked.

"I won't need it", Wesker brushed her off as he placed the back of his head against the cushion that lay behind it.

Each person felt their body shake as a loud ~thud~ indicated the helicopter had made contact with the ground. Redfield undid his seatbelt first, taking a hold of his assigned weapon as he simultaneously stood up before bolting towards the exit. The Alpha officer eagerly opened the metal door, surveying the forest that they had landed in the middle of. He was soon joined by the other four individuals behind him as all five agents turned on a source of light. Artificial light shone from the three flashlights that were attached to the M-16 rifles, a fourth one that was part of Frost's assault shotgun, and finally a fifth that was a manual flashlight carried by the captain's left hand as he held the Desert Eagle with the right one.

It was immediately obvious that the source of the smoke was another helicopter, one that was identical to their own, but also smouldering about fifty yards away. Waist-high grass, several bushes and small trees lined the space between their current location and the Bravo team's wreck, thus having forced Vickers to land so far away.

"This doesn't look good", Valentine uttered as each agent exited the Alpha helicopter, with the team leader walking towards the front where the pilot was located.

Wesker gave Vickers a nod through the glass even while pointing the flashlight and weapon at the area ahead of him.

"We'll be right back", the man in the sunglasses promised before turning his attention to the four agents who were outside with him, "Let's go".

He watched officers Redfield and Valentine heading towards the destination while they appeared more relaxed, casually pointing their respective assault rifles towards the sky. But Frost and Burton were more like him, being less optimistic and preferring to aim the shotgun and M-16 rifle towards the grounded Bravo helicopter itself. Five circular shapes of light shakily hovered around the grass as all five individuals made their way towards the giant, immobile machine. 

The artificial light from them, on top of the moonlight from above, showed that the Bravo helicopter wasn't on fire, at least not any more. But there were still no signs of other humans as agent Frost reached it first, his demeanour becoming more worried as he heard no noise originating from inside. So the young man proceeded to point the muzzle of his shotgun towards the outside of the metal door as agent Redfield gripped the handle and pulled the door open. Frost pushed the body of his weapon inside, the light that was attached to it combing the inside of the helicopter. Frost sighed as he found no sign of anyone within the main body of the machine, while empty seats were the only things that greeted him back.

"There!", Redfield blurted out, pointing his beam of light past the main area inside the helicopter until it rested in the cockpit at the front of the mangled flying machine.

"What _is_ that?", Burton added as all five officers carefully swarmed towards that area.

No one answered as three sets of flashlights shone on the remains of a human being who was strapped to the pilot's seat, the corpse in the RPD uniform not even having had the time to get out of his seatbelts before dying. Instead, the dead man's head was still wearing his pilot's helmet as his face was frozen in a scream. He would have been continuously staring in the direction of the five Alpha members, except for three massive lacerations which had welded his left eye shut. Everyone except Wesker gasped at recognizing that large chunks of uniform, skin and muscle were missing from the seated body.

"It's Kevin, the pilot!", Frost heard himself say before he staggered away from the Bravo team's machine, "The damn helicopter's a derelict, except for _that_!".

The young man took several steps away from the rest of the group, holding on to his weapon with a right grip while covering his mouth with his left hand as he felt the urge to throw up even while he heard agent Valentine uttering "Oh, my god...".

Agent Frost gulped a bad taste in his mouth, trying hard to swallow back the bile that threatened to emerge from his mouth. He was slightly bent down and facing the green grass below, just in case he ended up losing this current struggle against his own body, so he didn't notice captain Wesker walking towards him from behind in a hurried pace.

"Joseph, are you OK?", the Alpha team leader asked, placing the body of the flashlight he carried in his left hand on the younger man's upper back.

"Yeah, sure", Frost lied while nodding his own head, but without turning around to look at his superior, "Just not the kind of shit you see every day. It's... This shit isn't supposed to happen, right?".

"No, Joseph, it's not", Wesker shook his head in response as three other officers neared them both, "Help us make it right?".

"Yeah, dude, whatever you want", the young man stood up to his full height and turned around to face the rest of Alpha team behind him.

"Here's what we're gonna do, people", the captain announced in a voice loud enough to address his four subordinates, "I want all five of us to flank out, remain about ten yards from each other, but no more than that. We need to comb the area around this copter to see if we can find any of our five other compatriots. Regardless of what happens, we'll then be able to take Kevin back there home, at least".

"I'm with you, dude", Frost blurted out, wiping his own mouth clean while he was still recovering from the vomiting experience he had just avoided.

"You got it. Let's go", Redfield gripped the handle of his M-16 rifle with his right hand, the right index finger resting on the trigger while his left hand held the underside of the weapon just past the middle of it.

All five agents dispersed, each of their respective firearms and flashlights pointing at the area in front of them. They stopped putting space between each other when they were approximately a dozen large steps away from the nearest colleague and then began the impromptu reconnaissance mission by moving shoulder to shoulder in a straight line. It started with agent Burton on one end, with Redfield next to him, Wesker in the middle, Valentine next to him and finally Frost forming the other end. Each of the five officers visually combed the high grass in front of them as well as their immediate surroundings.

There was no sound except for the ones done by their footsteps and the noise created by crickets, which would've been soothing at any event except for this one. Nothing was found apart from yard after yard of unadulterated grass, which was a negative factor due to a lack of clues as to the whereabouts of the rest of Bravo team. But then again, it was also a positive factor since not finding any more bodies meant that the remaining five Bravo members were perhaps still alive. 

The silence didn't last long, though, because four members of Alpha team heard their fifth comrade yelling to obtain their attention.

"GUYS!", Frost had stopped walking forward and was partly crouched over the tall grass, holding the shotgun with the right hand and waving his left arm over his head, "OVER HEEEERE!".

All four of his colleagues stopped in their own turn and already had their attention turned towards him when the young man was looking back down by his feet. Frost didn't notice the other agents turning away from their current path to face in his direction because he was holding his breath as he carefully picked up whatever objects he had spotted a few seconds ago. Still not breathing without realizing it, Frost picked up the barrel of a pistol with his left thumb and index finger, lifting the weapon off the ground and past the level of the high grass.

Frost heard himself gasp when the newly-found handgun was at the level of his own chest and he finally noticed that a human arm was still attached to it, the severed arm's five fingers still firmly grasping the metal handle. The newest Alpha member unintentionally let go of the weapon's muzzle, letting the weapon and the arm fall back on the ground. He took two steps back and away from the grisly find, not even sure if the other four members of his unit had seen the discovery.

-------------------------------

Captain Albert Wesker was busy looking over the grass and bushes that were all around him when he heard Frost's initial call to get his attention. The leader responsible for bringing Alpha team here quickly turned his face in the younger officer's direction from twenty yards away in time to see the latter waving his arm up and down. Wesker had subconsciously pointed his flashlight and Desert Eagle towards the ground while turning his entire body in Frost's direction as he next saw the man he had met on his first day at the RPD lifting something out of the grass and then dropping it back down again. He couldn't tell what Frost had found because of the distance between them, but also because agent Valentine was standing halfway in the middle of both men.

That's when Wesker saw his nightmares coming to life.

-------------------------------

Officer Frost heard several quick footsteps on the grass behind him, and assumed they belonged to the four other agents who were in Racoon Forest. It didn't initially occur to him that his four colleagues were in front of him, and the Alpha team helicopter was beyond even those individuals, but the footsteps were emanating from behind him instead. By the time the puzzling thought even entered the officer's mind, he began turning in the direction that the hurried footsteps were closing in from, and trying to raise his shotgun in a ready stance. But he was only partly turned in that direction and hadn't yet fully lifted the powerful weapon when he saw a dark blur jumping out of the grass and pinning him down underneath it.

Joseph Frost screamed as he caught a glimpse of several dogs, each of them larger and more vicious than anything he had seen before. He tried to aim the shotgun, but found that he was unable to as the first animal on the scene bit his right wrist, forcing the stationed flashlight on and off the attacking canines. He screamed a second time when a second dog sank its teeth into his left upper arm and a third dove towards him to take a bite out of his stomach. The outnumbered human felt sharp pain invading every part of his upper body as blood exploded out of both arms and he felt teeth viciously digging through his kevlar vest.

"WEEEEEEESS!!", Frost heard himself calling out to the captain as he blindly pulled the trigger on his weapon, firing a shotgun blast that unfortunately didn't strike any of his attackers. 

He was pinned to the ground with a fourth dog jumping on his chest, trying to desperately bite him in the neck. So he fired a second time, wishing more than anything that he could wrestle his right arm away from the first dog to at least use the firearm against these monsters. But even one dog would've proven difficult to fight against, much less four of them working as a merciless team. He wondered where his team-mates were, and why they weren't saving him from this hell. The young man thought he heard one of them saying his name as he tried to sit back up, and before the last dog on the scene delivered a fatal bite to his exposed neck. 

"Wes, where are y...", was all he managed to utter before he gurgled blood out of the large hole in his throat and then out of his mouth.

Frost crashed on the ground one more time and saw and felt nothing after that.

-------------------------------

Four huge, genetically-engineered and bloodthirsty dogs leapt at Wesker's young comrade from the darkness. The captain's eyes widened in horror from behind his sunglasses as Frost screamed out first and Valentine screamed out second due to having seen the attack. From the captain's experience of dealing with such monsters, he knew that his colleague only had a few seconds to live unless he himself saved the young man's life. That was the whole point of being a leader, of course. Wesker's eyes narrowed, his body tensing even more as he began seeing the entire scenery before him in slow motion. The captain's right arm rose in front of his face in normal speed first while his left arm brought the flashlight up slower, even while he saw agent Frost struggling against the four-legged creatures and those monsters attacking the Alpha team recruit at a snail's pace. Wesker held his breath as he took aim at the dog closest to the younger agent and pulled the trigger once, a .50 calibre coughing out of the Desert Eagle handgun.

The team captain felt himself feeling worse when he realized that the shot missed, punching a harmless hole in the ground several inches in front of the rabid animal instead. Due to the distance between him and the targets, as well as the unnatural speed that the altered monsters were travelling at, he found that even he had trouble hitting them with his favourite weapon. Making a quick mental note to chastise himself later for not being a better marksman, Wesker aimed the weapon with his right hand again. But he then heard himself uttering something incoherent as his eyes focused on Jill Valentine's form because she was now standing right in front of line of sight. The only female agent in the forest had turned towards Frost's direction and was dashing towards the wounded officer as quickly as her legs could carry her, the M-16 rifle held firmly across her chest. Wesker guessed that she wanted to use the weapon only when she was closer to the dogs due to her fear of hitting Frost himself in the frenzy if she fired from where she was at the present time. Too bad for the captain that she had decided to run in a straight path leading directly away from him, even as the suddenly-deafening sounds of gunfire from him and Frost, barks from the dogs and screams from Redfield and Burton now threatened to confuse him all at once. 

In a fraction of a second of unwarranted anger towards agent Valentine, Wesker wished that she was either somewhere else or dead, as long as she wasn't blocking his second attempt at shooting those four-legged monsters. But that didn't last long as the former Umbrella spy formulated a second plan in his head, one that he came up with without even considering the odds of its success or failure. Giving in to his instinct, Albert Wesker bent his right elbow and pointed the Desert Eagle handgun towards the sky as he began running after agent Valentine. He hoped against all odds that both he and her would reach the young man who was in so much trouble and whose life so delicately depended on every second that was used to reach and help him. 

The older man caught up to agent Valentine, the muscles in his legs aching as he sprinted faster than her to the point where he reached Frost's position a few seconds after she did. The entire run had merely covered a distance of approximately twenty yards in the high grass, but Wesker felt like he had just finished a five-minute mile as he bolted towards his destination and stopped cold. There, standing just two yards from the scene, agents Wesker and Valentine could only watch as four dogs were in the process of already feeding on what remained of Joseph Frost's corpse. The young man's neck was barely dangling from the rest of his body while one canine kept biting away at it and the three other beasts were biting off pieces of flesh from his stomach and two arms.

"JOSEEEEPH!!", came a yell from agent Valentine as she had momentarily forgotten to reposition the rifle that rested in her arms so it pointed at the monsters in front of her.

But Wesker hadn't experienced that same momentary lapse in judgement, as he was already busy raising his own handgun while all four dogs temporarily stopped their dinner due to hearing the woman's yell. Four sets of salivating canine jaws calmly turned towards the two live humans there, pieces of blood still dripping from the animals' teeth while they kept chewing their previous bite. That's all the beasts got to do before two shots rang out from the male human, one round blasting out of Wesker's Desert Eagle and punching a large hole in the abdomen of the dog closest to him. As that monster dropped dead without a sound, the three others lunged towards the STARS captain, totally ignoring agent Valentine as she was busy pointing her weapon towards them at the same time. A second round burst out of the Desert Eagle, catching the second dog in the head while it was jumping through the air towards the dangerous human male there. That canine's head exploded before its decapitated body landed on the grass on its side.

The third dog pounced on the Alpha team leader, pinning Wesker under its huge weight as it placed its rear two legs on his stomach while its front two legs gripped his shoulders. The creature dove its face towards the man's neck, attempting to bite his jugular vein and end this current threat to its life. Instead of finding meat, though, the dog's mouth met the cold metal of Wesker's handgun, the barrel pressing against his attacker's fur before the man in the shades pulled the trigger again. A muffled burst from the weapon caused an explosion of blood, bone and brain to shoot out of the top of the animal's head. The gore flew vertically up towards the sky for pair of yards before spreading and falling back down on the back of the now-deceased third animal.

Unknown to Wesker, agent Valentine had instinctively moved in and kicked the fourth dog in the head as it had proceeded to bite her superior while the third canine was confronting him. So the last animal there had received a sharp blow to its chin due to her left boot. It staggered back for two steps as it then shook its head, stunned for only a moment, before it concentrated its attention on the newest antagonist there. The monster then galloped towards her while she was aiming the M-16 at it. It leapt at her, knocking her backwards through the air a split second before she pulled the trigger, a bullet emerging from her rifle and firing only through empty air.

Landing on top of the young woman, the fourth dog sank its teeth down towards her throat, but met the middle of the rifle instead as Valentine desperately kept the weapon across her upper body in a perpendicular fashion. Although she wasn't aware of the fact, the animal's teeth left an indentation in the metal where it had sunk the insides of its mouth. Vehemently shaking its head, the dog growled, almost as if the weapon was its own personal chew toy that it was trying to wrestle out of Valentine's grasp while keeping her pinned under its weight. Its mutated form already weighed as much as the female agent, so officer Valentine gasped as she tried to keep the rifle in place between her and the mutt since she knew that it was the only thing keeping it from delivering a fatal bite. Any plans she might've had of pushing the dog off her body was already proving to be impossible since its great muscle mass was aided by the fact that it was pushing down while she was trying to push up. But the sound of a nearby firearm discharging suddenly brought the tense showdown to a halt when the attacking canine disappeared to her left while the weapon remained in her hands.

Agent Valentine lurched forward, not prepared for the unexpected removal of her attacker, so she was partly in a seated position when she looked to her left and saw the last dog who had attacked Frost lying on the grass nearby. A large hole rested in the animal's midsection as a pool of dark blood grew larger underneath it and the canine itself didn't move afterwards. Valentine then looked up and to her own right, seeing captain Wesker standing nearby with his firearm pointing towards the dog's carcass. But their relief was short-lived because they both heard new snarls and barks before many more similar dogs came out of bushes and from behind trees. The new animals were carefully walking towards them instead of running, as if they were now taking the time to stalk their prey after having seen four of their own being killed by creatures they only considered to be food. 

Officer Valentine gasped in horror as eight more canines were now coming towards both her and her supervisor from about thirty yards away, so she wasted no time in springing up to her feet and taking aim with her M-16 assault rifle. She stood shoulder to shoulder to captain Wesker as she used both hands to lift the weapon till its aiming mechanism was in front of her face while the latter was aiming with the same handgun as earlier. But before either one of them could open fire, Valentine heard more rustling from her left. For one, panicked moment, she thought that the fourth dog who had killed Frost and attacked her was still alive, so she turned her head in that direction even while her body remained facing towards the eight new antagonists.

The good news was that the fourth animal who had been shot by Wesker was still dead. The bad news, on the other hand, was that a new dog was running towards her from that same direction. If she had opened fire on the pack of eight who were nearing her, she would've surely left herself open to a counter-attack by this lone beast. So the female agent turned her body in its direction and lowered the tip of her weapon a few degrees closer to the ground as that predator was lunging for her torso, hoping to shoot it with her first try. The animal's leap didn't take it far enough to pounce on her, but unfortunately, it reached the muzzle of the rifle instead, biting its side as it landed back on the grass. Grunting in frustration, Valentine found herself playing a deadly game of tug of war as she retained control of the rifle handle while the beast continued to pull the muzzle of the weapon away, still only keeping its mouth around the edge without taking the barrel into its mouth.

The human gave up trying to retrieve her primary weapon and, with her left hand still on the butt of the assault weapon, she reached into her uniform with her right hand, withdrawing the 9mm Beretta even as she undid its safety mechanism. Jill Valentine kept pulling on the rifle with her left arm and simultaneously planted the tip of the sidearm against the dog's skull. She pulled the trigger once, the 9mm round easily ripping into the canine's head and brain and forcing the animal to drop dead where it stood.

In a show of bad luck, the female agent realized that the fifth dead animal still retained the muzzle of her rifle in its mouth, thus the M-16 landed on the ground next to its body. It was at this point that the eight dogs who were previously approaching her and captain Wesker began to run in their direction instead. She heard even more snarls coming from further away, indicating that agents Redfield and Burton had their own share of hungry attackers to worry about. She didn't even have time to worry about her two other colleagues because her vision kept darting between the rifle that was lodged in the dead dog's mouth and the incoming wave of flesh-eating canines who were rushing closer. Agent Valentine looked at the dogs, back to the weapon that was on the ground, back to the dogs, back to the weapon, unable to decide whether she should run away from them or she should try to extract the rifle and start shooting.

The decision was made on her behalf when a rough hand grabbed her by the right shoulder and shoved her towards the direction opposite the one where the animals were coming from. Glancing towards captain Wesker, she noticed that he had tucked the flashlight back into his vest and only maintained his right grip on the Desert Eagle. But she didn't have long to take that image into her mind because her superior then pushed his left palm into her upper back, prompting her to proceed forward.

"Move", was Wesker's only command before Valentine began darting away from the four-legged marauders.

She didn't notice that Wesker wasn't running alongside her, as he was only walking backwards and away from the nearing dogs because he raised the Desert Eagle at arm's length in front of his face and fired three times. All three rounds from the handgun found their mark against a different dog in an explosion of blood, dropping each canine where they were hit. With five dogs left chasing him and Valentine, Wesker then tucked the empty Desert Eagle in his belt holster and turned around before chasing after the female agent. He could hear his own breathing, and the distance from him to the helicopter suddenly appeared very long as he spotted several more of these damned dogs chasing after the other two male agents, who were currently retreating backwards while opening fire. 

Wesker wanted to support his men with the help of flathead rounds, but he knew he couldn't do so with five hungry predators after him. He had to lose his pursuers before reloading those special bullets to dish out payback, so the Alpha team leader stopped running away and lifted his right ankle towards his stomach. He swiftly withdrew his back-up weapon, undoing the safety on the Glock handgun as he turned around and also took the flashlight out of his vest and shone the artificial light on his antagonists. He saw the five animals running at him in slow motion now, as expected, so he took aim with the 9mm handgun as soon as he had the first dog in his sights. The police captain pulled the trigger with a passion as twenty golden blasts shot out of the Glock and struck the five pursuers, killing or at least injuring them enough where they ceased to chase after their human prey.

The Alpha team leader tucked the empty Glock handgun back into his ankle holster without bothering to reload it, as he couldn't even remember if he brought any clips for that weapon. And without the immediate threat of disembowelment coming after him, he was able to take a few seconds to quickly reload eight fresh flathead rounds into the Desert Eagle, all the while retaining the hold on the flashlight.

"Captain, come on!", agent Redfield called out to him, and Wesker saw the dark-haired man from twenty yards away as the latter kept the M-16 pointed towards the sky with a right grip while he used his left hand to take a hold of agent Valentine's wrist, ensuring that both he and Burton stayed near her.

"Get back to the copter!", Wesker called back, finally running towards them, a firearm and flashlight in each hand, before he lowered his voice to only utter to himself, "This entire damn forest is infested".

--------------------------------

"What _is_ this? What the fuck's going _on_?", agent Vickers twitched involuntarily for the tenth time since the rest of Alpha team had disembarked from his helicopter, but even more so since he started hearing gunfire off in the distance, "Chris can fly this damn thing as much as I can. Why the hell did Irons want _me_ to be here? I was just brought here to play with computers for christsake".

Several more shots followed, along with at least two different people screaming, though the pilot couldn't tell who it was as the words were muffled. He strained his eyes to try to see anything from beyond the windshield, but couldn't make out anything in the pitch-black darkness that surrounded his flying machine.

"I don't even know how the fuck to _use_ most of these damn guns!", he whispered to himself as he undid his seatbelt and leaned forward to try to get a closer view outside by reducing the amount of glare the windshield had on it due to the lights from inside the cockpit.

The surrounding trees still showed no sign of whatever problems were taking place beyond them, as they kept obscuring his view with their sheer size and width that seemed to consume any light from the moon up above. The young pilot was debating the idea of picking up a weapon, whose whereabouts he knew, and also a flashlight, whose whereabouts he did not know. But he then gasped as what once might've been a dog jumped towards his face from outside, only to then bounce off the thick glass at the front of the helicopter. Agent Vickers heard himself screaming as he fell back into the pilot's chair and bounced on it. He was only looking into the savage eyes of the large canine, wondering what kind of a dog it could've been, as drool splattered over the glassy surface, when he then noticed that several other dogs like it were surrounding the helicopter.

----------------------------

Agent Redfield took a glance over his right shoulder, worried about how far the captain was. On top of that, he was trying to make his way towards their helicopter, keeping an eye out for any more four-legged marauders, and trying not to trip on the undergrowth at the same time. He maintained the M-16 rifle aimed towards the sky in a right grip while the weapon shone a source of white light towards the black sky as a result, always ready to aim and fire away if he saw any dogs within audio range. Behind him, he could tell that agent Valentine was nearby, the Beretta handgun in her right hand, and slightly behind her was agent Burton.

Only Burton was firing at the moment, vehemently pulling the trigger on his rifle and hearing a canine yelp with every third or fourth shot he took, which was rather good accuracy since both he and his targets were running. But Redfield knew he had to stay alert in case Burton himself slowed down, as the young agent didn't want to risk having anyone being left behind. So he heard a click generating from Burton's direction, which prompted him to turn his head in that area. He saw that the older man had run out of ammunition as he pulled the trigger of the rifle twice to confirm the fact that the M-16 clip was empty. Not having extra clips for it, Burton dropped his M-16 on the high grass and withdrew his personal Colt Python. That would've helped him run faster anyway, and the rounds from the Python were as deadly as anything a standard-issue assault rifle could come up with.

It was then that agent Burton heard Chris Redfield yelling out, though not in pain. Instead, the burly man switched his attention to his younger colleague in time to see agents Redfield and Valentine looking up towards the sky. Valentine's mouth was held open with a shocked and fearful expression on her face as her eyes followed the Alpha team helicopter that was flying off with only the pilot inside it.

"Brad! Where the hell's he going?!", Redfield screamed out, feeling that their situation had just gone from bad to nightmarish.

As he kept watching the chopper disappear in the night air, agent Redfield made the mistake of slowing down his forward run, so Burton ran past him and then patted the younger man on the left shoulder.

"He's gone! Don't slow down!", officer Burton commanded, "Keep moving till we find a clearing away from these damn woods".

So agent Burton took the lead, aiming his power Colt firearm with both hands as it was aimed at arm's length in front of his face. Valentine followed him, her eyes nervously combing the area around her to spot any unexpected movement, as she addressed agent Redfield also.

"Come on, Chris. Follow Barry", Valentine encouraged, not even sure where the older man was leading her, but it must've been better than staying here.

Redfield swore to himself that he'd make agent Vickers pay for abandoning everyone if he got out of this hell alive. But for now, agents Valentine and Burton were right in stating that they couldn't stay here. The high grass by itself was too much of a problem as it provided their antagonists with too much cover. They needed to find solid ground where they could at least see those damn mongrels and hold out till morning before finding their way home.

--------------------------------

Captain Wesker spotted the commotion as he realized that the helicopter was airborne before anyone who was in the woods had reached it. It didn't take the Alpha team leader long to figure out that the pilot had panicked and deserted the rest of the officers here. So he didn't waste any time in calling either himself or agent Vickers any names, as he had to worry about trying to keep three other police officers from sharing agent Frost's fate in these wooded areas.

Looking back at his subordinates, Wesker continued coming closer towards them due to his ability to run faster than most people. He saw that Burton had taken over the lead while Valentine was second after him and Redfield was last, though all three individuals stayed close together, as was a good idea. But unfortunately, the three STARS agents were so concentrated on running towards some form of safety that they didn't notice a lone dog who was pursuing them, and also gaining on them from behind.

Wesker heard his own heart beating as he suddenly saw agent Redfield turn around counter-clockwise in slow motion while the younger man was raising his left forearm in front of him because his right one still held a rifle. It was all done by instinct, since a raised arm was worthless against a dog of such ferocity, as the animal would've simply bitten his arm off and then ravaged the rest of the agent's body. So the Alpha team captain raised both his extended arms in front of his chest in real time, the left hand carrying the flashlight while the right carried the Desert Eagle. As he did that, he saw Redfield turning around in slow motion in an effort to confront a dog who was jumping towards him as time almost stood still. He got ready to try to save his colleague's life, hoping that his aim now proved to be better than it was back when he had tried to shoot the dog who was attacking agent Frost.

--------------------------------

From Redfield's point of view, the increased thumping in his chest only became louder when he realized that he hadn't been aware of a savage straggler who had stealthily neared him. As the dog leapt several feet through the air to pounce on the young man from directly behind him, Redfield turned around by instinct, raising his left forearm. It was a desperate attempt to keep the canine's jaws from clamping down on his own neck, and not one that would've actually worked. But while the savage dog was halfway in the air, agent Redfield heard a shot while simultaneously seeing his attacker fall to the ground in an explosion of its own blood. 

"Chris, this way", was all he heard.

Dumbfounded, the young man next saw the beam of a flashlight shining first on the dog's carcass and then on his own face. He followed the source of that flashlight to see that it was being held by captain Wesker as the older man also kept a handgun aimed towards the dead dog. He didn't have time to feel relieved at having been spared Frost's gruesome fate, as he next saw his superior backing away from him and the other two agents. Redfield didn't know why his superior was putting distance between himself and the rest of the team while making sure that no more dogs appeared in the sight of his Desert Eagle and manual flashlight. But looking behind the older man, agent Redfield finally saw the outline of a house, marking the direction that the captain was heading towards. It was definitely a better option than staying outside, as the lack of high grass wouldn't have provided their pursuers with almost perfect cover. Plus, no one here knew how far they'd have to go before finding clear ground.

"Jill! Barry! Head for that house!", Redfield called out to his two colleagues as he himself began jogging in Wesker's direction.

Agents Valentine and Burton didn't seem to need convincing as they turned midway through their forward run and bolted after Redfield instead. All three individuals ran straight past captain Wesker as the superior officer there only jogged sideways after them. In doing so, Wesker kept his left arm straight ahead and parallel to the ground while his right arm was bent at the elbow, thus keeping the flashlight ahead of the rest of him and the Desert Eagle in front of his chest. Both the light and the firearm were aimed at the area directly behind him, as he reasoned that the rest of his team would spot any animals it came across from the front, so he would look out for predators that tried to sneak up on them from behind.

No new dogs appeared, meaning that Burton had effectively wiped out the group that was previously tormenting him and Redfield. That left the four officers only hearing the sounds of their own breath and the noise of their feet slapping on the undergrowth below. But while they kept bolting towards their new destination, everyone except for captain Wesker realized that the house wasn't getting any closer, but instead kept appearing bigger in size. It took a whole minute of more running before they saw that it wasn't a house at all but a huge mansion on some kind of estate. Finally coming to within a stone's throw from the place, the group saw that the front walls were covered with long ivy which had since crawled to the point where it seemed to envelope most of the front of the building.

Redfield galloped the five steps that led to the front double doors, taking two and three steps at a time before he put his entire weight against the large, oak surface of the left-hand door, ready to shoot through it if it was locked. Luckily, it turned out to be open once the young man pulled the vertical handle that was located there downward in a clockwise motion. While he pushed the door open, the light from the lobby greeted him, and Redfield next heard more gunshots from behind his current position. So he turned around in time to see Wesker and Burton firing as half a dozen more dogs had appeared from a distance to try to chase them down. Officer Redfield lifted the M-16 rifle in front of his face and took aim for the animal who was at the farthest left of the quartet of people. But upon pulling the trigger, he noticed that his weapon was empty, so he grunted in frustration as he turned back towards the door and pushed it further open so everyone could finally come inside.

Once inside, he loud panting from everyone was temporarily ignored as agent Redfield first hurried to close the giant double door. He then positioned his empty rifle across the vertical handles that were found along the two half-doors, thus effectively locking it from the outside. It was only then that the young man allowed himself to hunch over, feeling an icy burn in his throat and lungs as his body tried to recover from running hundreds of yards in high grass while dodging and firing at more dogs than he could count. The fact that he and agent Valentine, being the two younger officers, appeared to be more out of breath than the two older men there wasn't noticed just yet. That's because captain Wesker was already busy surveying the new area while Burton was trying hard to not show off how exhausted he truly felt, and for the most part, succeeding.

"What the fuck happened out there?!", Redfield spat out while standing up straight, the palm of his hand on his solar plexus.

"Poor Joseph!", agent Valentine thought out loud as her face revealed the anguish she felt while she stood to her full height also.

"What _is_ this place?", officer Burton carefully looked over the inside of the mansion they found themselves in, needing to be careful in case whatever monsters were outside happened to find their way in also.

"Not quite your ordinary house, that's for sure", captain Wesker answered to himself as much as anyone else while he replenished the empty cylinders within his Desert Eagle.

The partially illuminated lobby was square-shaped, with each side being approximately thirty yards long. A stretch of red carpet led from the closed front door to the opposite side of the large room where the beginning of a staircase could be found that went up to a second floor balcony. In addition to the stairs, two closed doors were located on the right-side wall as they were just a few steps from each other. A third, lone door that was also closed could be seen on the wall to the left.

"Where the hell did that chickenshit Vickers go to without us?!", Redfield angrily pointed behind him as he stepped towards agents Burton and Valentine.

"There's no point in wasting time worrying about him", the superior officer calmly added without looking at any of his agents since he was still visually combing his new surroundings, "He's obviously a door that's closed to us. The question now remains how _we_ are going to get out of this forest alive. But at least now we know what's been causing all those deaths in the city".

"_Do_ we?", Valentine added, getting his attention, "Someone trained those mutts, captain. We could be in that someone's home right now".

"Hell, if I was some cannibalistic fuck who had millions of dogs like that, I wouldn't lock my doors at night either", Redfield agreed with her.

"Do any of you three happen to have a radio?", Wesker asked the other officers there, his attention finally back on them, "For all the preparations, I didn't think to bring one".

"To be fair to you, none of us could've known our pilot was gonna turn out to be such an asshole", Redfield added, "But no, I don't have one either".

"Ditto", the female agent informed them.

"Same here, I'm afraid", agent Burton shook his head while reloading his own Colt Python.

"Then we should start with...", captain Wesker began formulating a plan for the four survivors.

The sound of a single gunshot reverberated from beyond the left-hand door to the lobby, interrupting him and prompting everyone to turn their attention in that direction.

"What the _hell_ was that?", agent Valentine merely thought out loud as she took a step towards that doorway with her 9mm Beretta pistol still in her right grip and agent Redfield withdrew his own handgun in response to the noise.

"Sooner we find out, the better", captain Wesker bolted towards the door that led to the left side of the lobby while keeping his personal firearm pointed towards the ceiling with his right hand.

All three RPD officers closely followed him, weapons at the ready, until they reached the door in question. Once there, the captain quickly but carefully twisted the doorknob with his left hand, making sure to keep himself next to the doorway instead of in front of it. Finding it unlocked, Wesker then pushed the door open with the palm of his left hand and peeked through the entrance while then pointing the Desert Eagle through it with both hands.

The scene that greeted him was a large and empty dining room as the sound of a ticking grandfather clock resonated through it from the wall on the right. A giant, wooden table was set in the middle of the room, kept eerily clean with several candles that were lit on its surface, indicating that whoever was living here didn't leave a long time ago. The four officers hurried past the table and the chairs that were lined up around it, coming to the end of the dining room and finding a lit fire at the end of the far wall. Wesker's and Burton's gaze was distracted by the large stain of dried blood that could be found next to the fireplace. But seeing no one there, the agents slowed down only for an instant while feeling the deep warmth from the fire there.

"We can assume that someone's home", the captain remarked as he looked upon the new door that was closed to the immediate right of the fireplace.

Agent Redfield volunteered by going ahead of his supervisor, standing to the side of the closed doorway and gripping the doorknob. He twisted it and pulled the door open while Wesker, Burton and Valentine had three handguns pointed at whatever might've greeted them from the other side. None of the officers relaxed when they only saw another partly-lit hallway that was perpendicular to the entrance itself, leading both to the left and to the right.

"Which way do we go? Should we split u...?", agent Valentine asked, not sure whether to expect a reply from her captain or a general consensus among her group.

A distant slurping noise that sounded like someone was sucking a thick shake through a straw was heard from the left side of the hall, so that seemed to answer her question as captain Wesker jogged in that direction without saying a word. He came upon another right turn after about ten yards, all the while hearing three sets of footsteps close behind him. So taking the right turn with the Desert Eagle pointed at arm's length in front of his chest with a lone, right grip, the RPD captain expected to keep hurrying further, but instead came to a sudden halt.

The three officers behind Wesker stopped their forward rush at the same time that he did because all four of them saw a ragged, bald man whose back was turned to them and who was kneeling on the floor, hunched over a prone body. A quick moment of silence passed before the RPD officials heard a cracking sound followed by a soft thud. Looking at the floor, towards the direction where the thud came from, all four police officers gasped in shock as Kenneth Sullivan's severed head rolled on the floor before coming to a stop on the back of the skull. The hunched man who was kneeling in front of the dead Bravo team member didn't move from his position as Sullivan's decapitated head then turned to its own right, thus bringing his entire face within the sights of the four agents. Agent Redfield screamed in disgust as the Alpha team-mates saw that the left side of Sullivan's head had already been eaten, thus consisted only of a bloody, fleshless cranium.

It was only then that the kneeling man finally moved, turning his head over his own left shoulder, so the four STARS agents saw that his mouth was so dissolved that his lips appeared to pulled back in the mockery of a human face. His eyes had lost all colour, so they were just grey sockets of jellied mass that had been sucked inwards and the skin on his head had decayed to the point where it was falling off. Wesker's mouth and eyes went agape as he found himself staring at the very personification of his nightmares while the zombie proceeded to stand up and turn in the agents' direction. The inhuman monster groaned a deep, guttural moan as it casually extended its two arms in Wesker's direction and began to slowly stagger towards him. It managed to take two uneven steps before the RPD captain tightened the hold on the handle of his weapon and took careful aim before pulling the trigger once. The Desert Eagle coughed and the zombie's head exploded as a result before the decapitated creature sank down to its knees and fell flat on its stomach. A pool of dark red blood widened at the stump of its neck where its head once was.

"What the FUCK??", Redfield exclaimed first once the silence had returned to their environment.

"OK, the dogs, that...", Valentine went on, anxiously looking over her colleagues and the walls, "That could be done. But... But that...".

She pointed down at the dead zombie with her left index finger, her right knuckles gripping the handle of the Beretta even tighter.

"That ain't a survivalist. Or anything, for that matter", she continued, "That was _dead_!".

"Wesker, what the hell are we supposed to _do_ here?", agent Redfield asked, addressing his superior this time.

No answer from the older man in the shades as the RPD captain kept looking down at the zombie with the severed head, his own right arm back down by his side and his mouth clenched shut, the tension painfully obviously on his face.

"Wesker??", the young man asked again.

Still no response.

"Captain?", agent Valentine interjected.

"OK, here's what we're gonna do, people", Wesker finally replied as he turned back to face the three officers behind him, "We're obviously in over our heads here, and the fact that our ride flew off without us only makes the situation worse. We need to find a way to communicate with the RPD and tell them to bring enough reinforcements to cleanse this entire place and all of its damn inhabitants with bullets".

The man in the shades crossed his arms in front of his chest as he turned to face his colleagues, the Desert Eagle kept in place underneath his left elbow.

"I want us to split up into groups of two, the faster to find a phone or a radio, or some method of transport that'll get us _out_ and help _in_", he continued instructing, "The sooner we do that, the sooner the freaks here will be the ones who are outnumbered instead. Since you, Chris, and you, Jill, are the junior officers, I want Chris to go with me and Jill to go with Barry. We'll all go back to the lobby and head out to opposite sides of this mansion and then meet back in the lobby in one hour. Shoot anything that doesn't seem intelligent along the way".

"Yes, sir", agent Valentine nodded her head.

"But before we do, Chris, check Kenneth for weapons or ammo, please", the captain requested.

"On it", the young man darted past the captain, cautious to step over the grisly remains of the zombie before carefully checking the pockets of his dead colleague.

Agent Redfield found a Beretta pistol on the floor near the body and withdrew two full 9mm clips from agent Sullivan's uniform before eagerly returning to his fellow officers.

"Always watch each other's backs, all of us. Got it?", Wesker continued while looking over what the young man had found, "I want all four of us plus whoever else who happens to be RPD and happens to be alive getting out of his place".

Wesker knew he wanted to say something else, but he suddenly felt dizzy as his eyes fazed out for several seconds before he shook his head to clear the clouds that were forming in his mind. None of the three agents noticed anything unusual since the RPD captain always had his eyes protected from scrutiny with the help of his sunglasses, and the shaking of his head was quickly forgotten.

"On second thought, no, I want myself and Mr. Burton to go on a special reconnaissance mission together", the captain resumed talking, relaxing his arms by his sides yet again, "Chris and Jill, you two go together and find a way to contact the RPD".

"That's fine too", Redfield stated while Valentine nodded to the change in plans.

"OK, dismissed. Be back to meet us in the lobby in exactly one hour", Wesker finished, "Burton and I will examine this crime scene before we head out to find a phone or radio of our own".

Agents Valentine and Redfield returned towards the direction they had come from, with three Beretta pistols and several more clips between the two of them. Once they were out of sight, captain Wesker turned to agent Burton and casually patted the burlier man on the shoulder with the left hand.

"Well, my dear old friend", the RPD captain grinned as he addressed his colleague while holstering the Desert Eagle, "It appears we have the pleasure of serving together once again. And as far as our deal goes, if you look, currently...".

Wesker pointed down at the body of the zombie he had shot a few minutes ago.

"The other three beautiful members of the Burton household will be, at best, turned into food for those things and, at worst, will be feeding on each other if you don't stick to exactly what we had agreed to", Wesker kept smiling as he talked to his aghast fellow officer, "Just in case what happened to the delightful, now sadly deceased, Mr. Frost has made you, perhaps, waver on your decision to abide by what I have ordered".

With that, the suddenly relaxed and jovial RPD captain reached into one of the many pockets of his uniform and withdrew a miniature radio that had been there all along. He casually threw the electronic gadget to agent Burton, who angrily caught it between his left hand and his chest.

"I expect to call you a few times in the next hour, and probably several more times after we meet back up with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum there", Wesker pointed behind him with the left index finger, to the area where agents Valentine and Redfield had gone, "So please _do_ keep stay in touch, Barry".

Without saying anything else, the RPD captain turned away from his colleague and exited the room, leaving agent Burton standing alone with two corpses and a terrible weight on his conscience.


	19. Chapter 19 Intentions Revealed

Thanks very much once again to the Captain for her continued support as well as everyone else who left us a review. I very much appreciate it. Now go forth and read Claudia by Hello Captain it's excellent. 

24th July 1998

There were two main screens to monitor heart rates within the underground laboratory, those being the ones that were connected to two distinct cylinders that contained very dissimilar creatures within them. The first cryogenic tube carried a clear liquid substance, within which was a teenage redhead dressed in a white lab coat. She was technically dead, the screen that was attached to her life signs showing a flat-line that revealed no indication of heart or brain activity. The second screen, on the other hand, was connected to a larger cylinder, one that contained another, much more dehumanised being that stood to be approximately eight feet tall, with four-foot wide shoulders and five sharp claws that rested at the edge of its right knuckles. This creature also had the distinct characteristic of not having a gender, along with a heart that was placed outside its body, resting on the surface of the right side of its chest. It also had surgical scars around its torso, arms and head, along with a great tumour emerging from one of the valves of its heart and reaching to where its right ear was located. While this monster's heart beat regularly and its brain wave was synchronised, the line that reflected its thought patterns on the screen were substandard to what would've been expected from a human with an average intellect.

Those were the only two screens that were constantly directed to the main terminal, the two lines from each set were printed out non-stop, the first being the heart rate and the second being neurological activity. In contrast, the other cylinders within the chamber that contained many different creatures within them, some human but mostly not, were only attached to one system. That third machine's job was only to send a signal to the main terminal if something occurred that was cause for alarm. 

The silence of the screens was steady hour after hour as no one came into or even passed through this laboratory, the weak pulses of the lone, giant monster being the only movement there. But an exception then took place without warning when the machine that was attached to Shakahnna's cylinder revealed a sudden heart beat. The first line that represented her heart shot up from its horizontal position before returning to its previous, unmoving reading. But following the jump, the line that represented the girl's mental activity leapt up from its consistent state in a frenzy of life as the screen showed a vertical burst of vitality. Each mark was being printed a moment later on a narrow sheet of paper, creating a hard copy of the brain activity that the redhead was experiencing in her cylinder.

-----------

~Flashback~ – 23rd of July 1998

Shakahnna opened her eyes as she first became aware that it was night-time. The second variable she noticed was that she was outside, in the middle of a forest, as opposed to being inside the lab itself. The teenager didn't know how she came to be here, but a big smile appeared on her face regardless due to this very pleasant surprise.

"Fuck you, Wesker", she uttered to herself.

The redhead was getting the overwhelming urge to do a victory dance right here and now, but then had to stop and admit that she had no idea where this place was. So she looked down to examine whatever wounds her body carried. Her smile faded somewhat when she then realized that she was no longer dressed in the white lab coat, or even wet, for that matter. Instead, the teenager saw and then felt that she wore green jogging tracksuit bottoms with a black vest and white trainers. She also wasn't wet after distinctly remembering the fact that she drowned in that damn cylinder.

"Maybe the whole thing just be'd one of my nightmares...", she thought out loud as she then looked around the trees and bushes that surrounded her, "Fuck, that would be swell".

Before she even had the chance to make her way through the natural surroundings, though, she heard a deafening sound that emanated from the dark sky. So Shakahnna looked up, her mouth falling open as she caught sight of a loud and unidentified flying object that was crashing towards the ground just thirty yards ahead of her. She instinctively dropped towards the high grass on her stomach, covering the back of her head with both arms due to the anticipation of being hit with flying scraps of metal. But contrary to the girl's expectations, what she then heard to be a distinctive helicopter landed roughly on the soft ground, severing a pair of trees as it crash-landed because part of its engine was on fire. Regardless, though, the pilot who was in charge had done a good job of ensuring the flying machine landed in one piece.

Shakahnna lifted her head off the ground, waiting several seconds for the massive dust to settle back down before she could actually see anything specific through it. She then leapt up to her feet and rushed towards the smouldering wreck that had a thick plume of smoke emerging from it. But while she was still several steps away from the helicopter, she spotted a commando-like entourage that began to emerge from the machine. The first was a Caucasian man with brown hair, armed with a holstered pistol that rested at his waistline. The second person out was a Black man who was bald or had his head shaved, armed in the same fashion, as he staggered outside of the wreckage. He looked somewhat familiar, but she was unable to recall from where. The third in the line was a Hispanic man with almost shoulder-length hair, and Shakahnna could swear she knew him also. That male in green was followed by a fourth Caucasian man with short blonde hair, and then a fifth Caucasian man with longer, pitch black hair. The last person's dark hair could've almost passed for that of a female one, except that his face and physique obviously proved what gender he was. 

Lastly, Shakahnna caught a glimpse of a female officer who came out of the helicopter and who wore a short bob for her hair. The redhead thought that the sixth person there must've been younger than her, possibly an adolescent. She asked herself why the hell these people had someone so young in their midst, but while she was thinking that, the younger woman turned partly around and stopped in place. She intentionally thrust her right forearm towards the left window of the helicopter, giving a thumbs-up in its direction. Looking in that area, Shakahnna saw that a seventh person was still inside the helicopter, and not looking to get out of it. Instead, the pilot had merely remained in his seatbelt and gave his own thumbs-up in response to her.

At least none of them seemed to be seriously hurt, but that still didn't keep the teenaged redhead from wanting to go over there to see if everything was alright and also because she was curious as to what happened. She quickly closed the short distance between herself and the six individuals who were outside even while the uniformed people were slowly and carefully scattering themselves around the destroyed machine. Shakahnna didn't know why they were ignoring her, even while some of there were obviously still shaken from the experience.

"Hey. You guys be OK?", she asked as she neared the man with the blonde hair.

No response from him or any of the other five professional-looking persons there. They just kept surveying the woods around them, as if they themselves maybe didn't know their current location. But even if they were truly lost, then why were they ignoring her now?

"I sawed you guys landing here", she continued, walking briskly after the blonde-haired man, "Not exactly sure where I be's, to be honest. Do _you_ peoples know?".

Still nothing from anyone there.

Shakahnna narrowed her eyes, not in the mood to have the first sane people she ran into since getting out of Wesker's hellish laboratory pretend that she wasn't there.

"OY! Do I be speaking to myself here??", she raised her voice.

Yet again, no answers from the people she could recognise to be STARS members now that she was close enough to read the insignia on their uniforms. Was it possible that they were here searching for Wesker's better half? But where was Joseph Frost? Wesker had told her that the young man was to be hired by this special organisation, after all. But still, why the hell were they blanking her?

Shakahnna stopped in place for an instant as the man she was following kept walking ahead amid the high grass. She got a mischievous look on her face while putting together a plan to get his attention. She was usually forbidden from acting in such a way due to what society considered to be good manners, but she knew how to get someone's attention if it needed to be done, of course. So the young woman glanced her eyes to the left and then to the right before quickly walking after the slightly older man in front of her, reached forth and grabbed his rear end. She squeezed the right half of the male officer's butt, expecting to see him jump at the sensation. But the redhead gasped and her eyes widened when the man in front of her still didn't seem to know that anyone was behind her.

"This isn't supposed to happen, right?", she uttered to herself as she stopped where she was, many thoughts racing through her mind simultaneously.

What was going on here? She could feel the grass beneath her feet, but she couldn't hear them. She also remembered the ability to feel the officer's clothes and body under her fingers, but he himself clearly couldn't feel or hear her. And why couldn't she remember how she got out of Wesker's laboratory, drying off all the water from the cryogenic tube, acquiring a change of clothes and then making her way out of that building without trouble?

Before Shakahnna could continue thinking about the mystery of her current situation, she felt the need to throw up, gagging forward as if expecting vomit to emerge from her mouth. The sickening sensation worsened her current circumstances where she felt like she was merely experiencing the events of a video that she could only watch without participating and whose outcome she could not control. The teenager gagged once, twice and finally three times, a burst of warm breath floating out of her mouth before Shakahnna noticed that the air that escaped from her lips was coloured green. But she then regained the ability to breathe, feeling better as suddenly as she had felt sick.

It was only then that the redhead remembered the only other time she had experienced such a hallucination of a real event was when she was witnessing the deaths of the family of three at the hands of zombies. The memory of the father and mother who had been killed to protect their son, but the young boy having been murdered by Wesker soon afterwards anyway. All those recollections were still in her memory despite everything she herself had undergone recently. But that had been while she was still in the madman's laboratory, so Shakahnna wondered if it was possible that she could've still been within those confines even now, seeing another situation unfolding in front of her.

Before she could consider the situation further, the young woman spotted a radioactive green image, assuming it was even an actual colour, that was crudely drawn on the face of the armed officers around her. The unit of six individuals were still split up throughout the high grass, so Shakahnna had no trouble visually inspecting one face after another to spot which person carried which marking, all without realising it themselves.

There was nothing unusual on the blonde-haired man who was in front of her or the female officer who the teenager still thought was younger than she was. But green, shiny human teeth marks were seen on the face of the Black man. No one else there could see them, including not him, which was obvious to the redhead. Her mouth open at the latest surprise in a night of unexpected events, the teenager next looked at the Hispanic agent, spotting the green outline of a bullet on his right cheek. Third, the outline of a shiny crow was on the face of the man with the dark hair, and finally what appeared to be broken glass on the right cheek of the man with the light brown hair.

"I suppose that it be's ironic or something, knowing how life works", the redhead looked back in the direction of the most fragile person there, that being the female officer, "She'll be the only one to walk away unhurted".

Almost in response to her quip, the young male officer who was a few steps in front of her screamed out, but she realised it was not towards her as he was only addressing one of his colleagues there, one whose name was Rico. The Hispanic officer, in turn, gave a yell of his own while withdrawing and levelling his handgun into the darkness, towards an area whose details Shakahnna could not make out. But it was clear enough to her that the people in these woods were in trouble as they all began raising weapons, appearing anxious at best or scared at worst.

"Shoot it! Shoot it!", was all the teenager heard the Black man to exclaim before she panicked herself due to not knowing what to do against a threat that she couldn't even see while the rest of her entourage could.

The girl's heart thundered louder in her chest as she whipped her head from one side of the woods to the other. She only got more frustrated that she couldn't spot any of the many dangers that the six individuals were aiming their weapons towards, some of them already firing. It was then that she found herself unable to move her arms and legs, her breathing becoming ragged and the view in front of her becoming blurry.

------------------------------

The short burst of activity seen on the readouts from Shakahnna's cylinder stopped as abruptly as it started. The body in the large test tube kicked against the glass surface before it returned to its previous still position once more.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"How're you holding up?", Redfield asked as he cautiously made his way down a relatively well-lit hallway, never taking his eyes off the end of the twenty yards of carpet that were in front of him.

"Not bad", Valentine replied, her gaze darting between the area ahead of them and the spot where they had come from, just to make sure that no one, monster or human, had the chance to sneak up on them, "I had a chance to visit my parents or do this. So now I almost wish I had gone to see my parents instead".

She wasn't sure what kind of a reaction that would get out of her partner, but was hoping he wouldn't chastise her for making sarcastic jokes after what they had just endured. But a quick glance in his direction showed a small smile on his face, which was what she wanted.

"What about _you_, though, agent Redfield?", the female officer inquired, returning her face towards their destination as her right arm was casually raised in a horizontal fashion at the level of her shoulder, pointing the 9mm Beretta pistol in the direction of the closed wooden door that waited for them at the end of the passageway.

"Chris", her similarly-armed colleague shrugged off, making it clear that he wanted to be on a first name basis, "I've seen some pretty fucked up stuff working for the Air Force, but this is a whole different type of weird. There's something sinister about this".

"You said it", his fellow officer agreed as they neared the door, thus tightening her grip on the handle of the weapon, "I'll happily give up all my pay for the rest of this year if it means finding everyone after Joseph and Kenneth alive and leaving this place".

"Yeah, and coming back with enough firepower to level everything here",

Redfield whispered, not sure if anyone was behind this door to hear them now that they were closer to it, "I got no problem following the captain right back in here if it means I get to take out the sick fucks who put all this together".

The young man gripped his own Beretta weapon with both hands, even while keeping it pointed to the floor, agent Sullivan's firearm still tucked in his front belt.

"What do you suppose was the captain's reasoning for changing the orders of who's to pair with who?", agent Valentine continued talking in a lower tone of voice as she stood with her back to the wall that was to the right of the door, while her partner did the same to the left of the door itself.

"What're you talking about, Jill?", agent Redfield looked at her while he used his left hand to test the doorknob.

"It was first supposed to be one of us with one of the experienced field commanders", Valentine explained, not having a problem with his use of her first name without asking her about it first, "I'm not sure about your own history, but _my_ combat experience doesn't even run into years. As opposed to Barry's, who I know well enough, which is _decades_. And captain Wesker _must've_ had even more to reach his rank, despite his age".

She stopped after hearing the other officer rattling the doorknob, indicating that it was locked.

"I'm sure he had his reasons, but I don't really care", Redfield whispered back while examining the closed door, "Wesker definitely knows what he's doing. He wasn't even shaken up after what happened earlier tonight, so I trust his judgement. Whenever me, Joseph and Forrest went out to paint the town red, Joseph used to always tell us stories, but at the same time, he trusted Wesker 100%. And if it was good enough for Joseph after the years he'd known the captain, it's good enough for me".

"Were you two close?", the female agent whispered back, temporarily paying attention to the private conversation with her colleague rather than the door that was between them.

"Me, him and Forrest were all ex-servicemen, being 'ex' for various reasons, granted", Redfield snickered as he brought his face down to within a few inches of the doorknob, "He was a good guy. And once we're out of here, me and Forrest are gonna have a _lot_ of grieving to do. I just can't afford to do it now".

The young man stood back up, looking back at his partner with a more solemn look on his face.

"But for now, it looks like we got a door that doesn't want us to get through it", he continued.

"What's that?", Valentine pointed to a crescent that was carved in the wooden fabric of the door, just above the knob itself. 

"It may be a spoon, but it's probably a sword", Redfield replied, looking at the emblem with more scrutiny, "You can tell these people are crazy from the decor alone. Who the hell leaves their front door unlocked and locks doors within their home instead? Doesn't make any damn sense".

"Neither does eating your own race", the female STARS agent was more cynical, indicating she wasn't going to try to figure out the motive of whoever resided here, "But either way, looks like we gotta find the key with a sword on it to get into this room".

"Oh, fuck that", agent Redfield positioned himself right in front of the door as he held on to his firearm with both hands again, still pointing it towards the floor.

The uniformed police officer delivered a front kick with his left leg, aiming his field boots to the area directly next to the doorknob. The massive kick dented the door as its wooden frame shuddered, but the door itself remained closed as the young man had failed to force it open.

"Phew!", Redfield exhaled, "Son of a bitch is tougher than it looks".

He quickly aimed a second kick to the same spot, not feeling as worried as agent Valentine due to her concerns that someone may have been lying in wait on the other side of the door. This second time, they both heard a satisfying ~CRACK~ as the door burst open, so the male officer rushed inside first, visually combing the dimly-lit environment. Agent Valentine stepped through the now-broken doorway second, following him closely in case there was trouble.  

They were both surprised to find that the door didn't lead to a room, as expected, but instead was a pathway to a second-floor balcony that was perpendicular to the hallway they had used to get here. The large, octagonal-shaped balcony overlooked the dining room they had passed a few minutes ago. Redfield made a mental note to be more careful, already chastising himself for not even noticing this balcony when he was rushing past the dining table along with his colleagues. The stress of the last hour was starting to make him more sloppy at his job, and this was the one night the officer knew he couldn't afford to be less than perfect, for his sake and the sake of all the other survivors.

"Nice view down there", the male STARS member commented as he looked over his new surroundings. 

About ten yards to their right, another closed door was in place, much like the one he had just kicked through to get here. Following the path that the balcony took, the agents saw that it led past that neighbouring door, curved to the left, and then curved left again, thus creating a wide space ahead of them that overlooked the first floor below, the entire oval balcony separated from the open space that was in the middle of it by a guardrail. Across from the emptiness, on the other side of the terrace, they quickly noticed a seven-foot tall stone statue representing a woman's upper body as her upraised right arm was pointing towards the ever-higher ceiling. Past that, Redfield and Valentine then saw that the balcony turned to the left yet again, passing a second closed door that was to the left of their current spot, until it came full circle back to them.

"Statue or door?", Valentine broke the silence first, asking her partner if he wished to try the first door that was close to their left or around to the second one that was closer to the bust.

Instead of hearing his answer, both police officers heard and saw movement emanating from behind the statue of the giant stone torso. They didn't need any more incentive to have two Berettas pointing in that direction an instant before a zombie began making its way towards them, wailing with every step it took as it patiently stumbled in their direction. Redfield and Valentine initially said nothing as each pointed a respective firearm back at it. 

"What do we do?", the female agent eventually asked, never taking her eyes off the two-legged monster. 

"Ain't it obvious?", her colleague replied in kind, "Wait till it's close enough, then waste it, hopefully with only one shot instead of more".

"But that could've been a person once", she protested, though unsure of how strongly she felt about her argument, or even if this was the time to do it, "What if there's a cure and this one can be saved? I mean, as long as it's not a direct threat like the previous one...".

She trailed off, sure that he could finish her point of view in his mind.

"Jill, they _eat_ people", Redfield pointed out the obvious with more resolve, making it clear that he wasn't prepared to listen to her point of view, "Besides, imagine if Barry, captain Wesker, or anyone from the Bravo copter runs into it later and they're not lucky enough to have two guns pointing at it while it's hungry, or being in such a well-lit room. When these things are on their own, they're easy enough to take out, but what happens if there's a group of them, or if it sneaks up on one of us in the dark?".

"Yeah, but...", Valentine stopped mid-sentence as she watched Redfield stepping closer to the zombie while it was shambling ever-slowly towards him.

The young man gripped the handle of the pistol while his moaning antagonist was three yards away and still closing in, and then pulled the trigger once. A shot rang out of the handgun, entering the left side of the zombie's face exactly on target before the monster's head exploded with a loud ~POP~. Neither officer made a sound as they watched the dead creature sink first onto its knees before finally collapsing on its stomach while a pool of dark red spread from the stump that was used to be its neck.

"That's for whoever you killed in the city, you fuck", agent Redfield cussed out, still staring down at the corpse which represented his handiwork.

"Chris, it's pretty unlikely that he's the one who's been causing all that havoc in Raccoon", the female agent walked up to him, placing her free left hand on the back of his shoulder, "Or even the one who's been training the damn dogs. Considering how long it took us to get here via helicopter, and these guys can't even walk fast, much less run. So not imagining them leaving here, going to the city, killing, and then coming back".

"No, I suppose you're right", Redfield admitted, looking over his shoulder towards her, "They're practically zombies. Not very dangerous in an urban setting when your victim can literally walk faster than you".

"Come on, we're not gonna find anyone just standing here, Chris", Valentine patted him on the same shoulder as she turned back, heading for the closer door that was a few yards from the duo.

It was another squeeze of the doorknob that told them this second wooden barricade was also locked, with the symbol of another sword near the handle.

"That old goat who used to teach us kickboxing back in basic training would've been proud", Redfield commented to himself as he positioned his body in preparation for another kick to the door. 

"Wait, Chris, no!", Valentine stopped him in a loud whisper.

"What is it?", the young man turned his attention towards her, momentarily forgetting that he shouldn't stand still in front of the door, but doing so anyway.

"Those zombies, as you called'em, they can't be what's behind those attacks, or training the dogs, as we said", she explained, "So chances are, where would be a better place for those trainers to live? Logically, they could still be somewhere in here, and if this is their lair, doesn't it make sense there's gonna be traps, or maybe even an ambush. The more noise we make, the easier it'll be for them to find us or wait for us, probably with guns of their own".

"So you're saying you wanna check the other door first, and if it's open, we'll go through _that_?", he asked in his own turn.

"Sure. And if it's locked, then kickbox away, by all means", she gave a small grin, "But let's at least check".

"You got it", Redfield answered even while he turned around and quickly began making his way around the balcony, planning to pass the large statue before reaching the last door there.

The soft sound of their boots meeting the wooden floor was the only thing heard as they first reached and then went past the giant torso of the stone woman. It was then that a glimmer unexpectedly caught the brunette agent's attention, causing her to look up in the direction of the glint by reflex. Valentine stopped walking while her partner took a few more steps on his own. She opted instead to stand in place and look up at the object that was rested in the statue's right hand, which was raised several feet above the rest of it due to its elevated right arm.

"Chris, up there!", she pointed towards the sculpture's high, upturned hand with the pistol that was in her own right grip by fully extending her own arm.

"What is it?", the young man turned around, seeing her first and then looking up towards the same spot she was pointing at.

"There's something in her hand", Valentine explained as she remained still next to the statue, lowering her right arm as her partner walked back towards her, "Can't tell what it is, but it's definitely something that was put there on purpose. It's not the same material as the rest of her".

"Oh, wow, you're right", Redfield agreed once he was standing next to her and examining the object from directly underneath it, "Could be a key. It's definitely long enough".

"It's too high, though", she looked at him this time, "How're we supposed to get it?".

"Simple enough", he grinned, "Get on my shoulder".

"What? Nooo", Valentine protested, shaking her head.

"Why not? Not like you're wearing a mini-skirt", Redfield was giving a full smile by now, "Only an idiot would wear that when knowing what's waiting here. Besides, total gentleman here. Not like I'll be staring at your behind".

"Total gentleman, yeah right", she grinned back, "That's a favourite line for rapists and serial killers everywhere, no? If you have to point out that you're one, chances are you aren't".

"Be that as it may, it's the only way we're getting our hands on that thing, whatever it is", the young man casually pointed towards the icon's elevated hand with his free index finger, "So unless you think _you_ can support _my_ weight, it's either leave that object here or I get to have an eyeful, or, em, I mean...".

He deliberately trailed off, the smile returning to his face again, calming the tension that had been building in them both since they had found the unfortunate pilot from Bravo team.

"Not true, perv. I'm afraid you'll still have to pay money for that kind of stuff", she chided him in a playful manner as she placed her handgun back into its belt holster.

The female officer rested the palm of both her hands against the middle of the statue before she began to exert energy towards it.

"What are you doing?", her colleague asked, no longer whispering.

"See, Chris, some of us who weren't busy undressing their team-mates with their eyes might've noticed that the guardrail behind this stone woman is missing", Valentine explained as she began to push the statue towards the edge of the balcony.

"What?", agent Redfield looked behind the statuette itself, noticing that, just as she said, several feet of guardrail was missing, most likely having been either intentionally removed or not been built there in the first place.

"But wait a second, Jill!", the young man protested rather than trying to help her with the difficult task of pushing the heavy statue past the three feet of balcony floor, "What about the noise?".

"If anyone hears it and comes looking, good luck to them finding us on the first floor", she commented, "I'd love to help you pick them off from this vantage point".

With a final grunt, she managed to push the large stone woman off the edge, watching it fall fifteen feet until it smashed into dozens of tiny pieces near the dining table below.

"Remind me to help myself to that when we're b...", Valentine was proudly congratulating herself when both officers heard a human scream that emanated from the door that had been found to be locked.

The two STARS agents looked back in that direction as the female officer quieted down, her serious demeanour having quickly returned while she withdrew the 9mm Beretta back out of its holster. Before they even had time to move back in the direction they had come from, though, an explosion was also heard off in the distance, but this one coming from the opposite door that they hadn't even examined yet. So Redfield and Valentine instinctively turned their heads around, both of them silently wondering who the first screamer was and who had set off the second explosion. Even more importantly, the two sources of noise came from opposite sides of each other, so looking back to lock eyes, the RPD officials knew that some very important decisions needed to be made very quickly.

"You, me", agent Valentine pointed past her partner, to the door where the human scream came from as she indicated him, and then thumbed behind her to where the explosion had occurred to indicate herself, "Make sense?".

"You sure?", Redfield asked back, both his hands already tightening their grip on the handle of his own weapon, "We _could_ both stay together and go for one".

"Very true, but no time", the female officer quickly replied, "It's much more risky like this, I know. But if we can save one of ours... It's what _we_ would want if we were in trouble, no?".

"Dammit, why did Wesker split us up into groups?!", the young man looked towards the door behind him and made a complaint that he knew was useless before returning his attention back on his partner's blue eyes, wishing he could stay with her now more than ever before, "Look, if we get lost, we meet back in the dining room, OK?".

"You got it, and be careful, Chris", she gave a solemn bow with her head as she first walked backwards for several yards, constantly keeping her eyes locked with his until she turned on her heel when she was nearly at the door behind her.

The young woman gripped the doorknob with her left hand and turned it, feeling that this third door was finally unlocked, so she opened it a smidgen and took a peek inside. Seeing nothing moving in the well-lit hallway behind this door, agent Valentine glimpsed over her shoulder to let Redfield know that there was no current threat on the other side of the entryway. So seeing that, agent Redfield delivered a massive front kick to his own door from the other side of the oval balcony, shattering that wooden barricade with his first try.

The two STARS agents who had been partners for only a short duration glanced at each other for what they hoped wouldn't be the last time and then stepped through their respective doorways. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

Agent Redfield raced through his exit the instant after he had seen Valentine disappear through the entryway that was across from the balcony, keeping the broken door open behind him in case he heard his colleague screaming or firing any shots. But having heard neither of those as he quickly but carefully made his way through this overly dark mansion, the officer saw that his doorway led to a short hall leading to the left that ended with a closed door. From there, the path turned right, being interrupted by a waist-high banister before it continued further away after the young man saw that a staircase found at the perpendicular left of the hall itself led back down to the first floor. The officer checked the door that was closest to him, finding it locked. For an instant, he considered kicking it in, but then reasoned that the scream had actually emanated from further away than just outside the balcony he was previously in. So looking at the shadowy hallway that passed the banister first, then at the slightly better lit staircase, the young man wondered which path he should follow.

He gripped the Beretta tight in his right hand, not noticing that his knuckles were turning white, but instead wishing that he had enough time to check out both areas. Of course, much like most other aspects, that luxury was denied to him as the person behind the scream most likely didn't have the time for him to go on tour of the gigantic palace. Wishing for something to happen that would help him make the right decision of finding another, friendly human being here, Redfield quickly scaled the short obstacle that the railing presented, easily landing on the other side of it. He wanted to find the source of the terrified yell more than anything at this point, because that would mean the loss of Joseph Frost, Kenneth Sullivan and Kevin Dooley was not totally in vain. So standing with his back to the banister, Redfield made a risky decision that he hoped would be the correct one. He listened carefully to any noise that might've been coming from the end of the hallway facing him. He heard none. Next, he walked up to the beginning of the staircase that led to the first floor and listened carefully again, even holding his own breath and wishing that his heart didn't beat so loudly. This time, he heard what might've been slow footsteps belonging to people who seemed to be dragging their feet. If those were zombies, as he believed, then the human scream may have originated from there.

Without another thought, the STARS officer bolted down the staircase two steps at a time, aiming the handgun towards the ceiling with a bent right elbow and keeping in mind that he had fourteen rounds left in the weapon. It was only then he noted that the guardrail that had cut the hall in the middle was running on either side of the stairs also. Approximately halfway down the thirty steps that were there, Redfield glanced towards the first floor to spot that a new, white hallway started at the bottom of the stairs, leading to the right only, further than his eyes could follow. At a right angle to that long corridor, a second, smaller hallway ran adjacent to the right side of the staircase itself. A closed door was found in the middle of that second hallway, with several sporadic crashing sounds being heard from inside the room it led to. On top of that, agent Redfield had no problem seeing the four zombies that seemed to lazily patrol the intersection of the two hallways below. He reasoned that whoever had yelled out for help was probably behind that closed door, perhaps fighting with more zombies inside.

"It's always guess this, guess that", Redfield sighed in frustration as he pointed the Beretta over the banister that stood in the way of him and the edge of the staircase, "Don't these people ever leave their doors open?".

He reasoned they did not because of the large availability of monsters, of course, but still, it was getting to be vexing. The Alpha team member took aim at the mysterious zombie-like creature that staggered closest to the bottom of stairs, moaning up at him as if wanting to invite him to come down to its floor. The monster turned its body towards him, slowly taking its first step and making its way up in his direction when it realised that its meal wasn't voluntarily coming downstairs. So Redfield used both his hands to aim the pistol down at a 45 degree angle, setting his sights in the middle of the creature's torso. He pulled the trigger twice, two rounds cleanly passing through the decaying skin, muscles and organs that made up the zombie's chest. The creature was pushed back, its head looking up at the ceiling as if it didn't understand where the blows to its body came from, but then repositioned its face towards the human who was fifteen steps away from its outreached arms. 

"What could've caused people to be rotting like this?", the young officer pondered as he took a mental note of the omnipotence of the mansion's residents.

He didn't know of any creatures in the wild that could continue their normal routine after being shot in the torso with two 9mm bullets. Even the toughest animal out there would've at least been slowed down and significantly injured in the face of such firepower. At an extreme, people who were high on PCP might've had the ability to feel no pain on the short run even when shot with regular bullets. But even such individuals' torso would've been ripped to shreds after being struck by 9mm rounds, thus causing their body to quickly fall apart even if their mind registered no agony. On the other hand, here was a monster who could easily take two rounds, at close range, and continue to operate its arms and legs as if its figure wasn't damaged at all.

"Only way to stop you fuckers is to aim for your central computer, isn't it?", Redfield then thought out loud.

Lifting the Beretta by a fraction of an inch, he pointed the muzzle at the wounded zombie's face, pulling the trigger for a third time and causing the left side of its head to blow up in an explosion of dirty blood, bone and brain matter. The RPD officer smiled at his accomplishment as he saw the monster finally sinking towards its knees, with even its body unable to recover from such a blow. From then, it was a simple matter of taking headshots against the other three two-legged adversaries there, agent Redfield needing only three more bullets to shoot all of them dead.

Once they were all lying on the floor, two on their stomach and two on their back, each of them missing either their an entire head or at least a good fraction of it, the armed human quickly made his way towards the first floor.

"Say 'hi' to my comrades for me, assholes", he glanced down at the corpses as he made his way towards the wooden door.

Once there, agent Redfield stood next to the closed entryway and used his left hand to twist the doorknob, glad that he felt the door opening. He then slowly pushed the door open, noticing first that there was at least some amount of artificial light emanating from inside the room. He was ready to use the weapon that constantly remained in his right grip on anything that could've been waiting for him there. Except that the young man heard a slight hissing sound before feeling a countless number of wet, dusty particles gently breezing over his face. Redfield heard himself screaming as his eyes suddenly burned and he couldn't breathe because of a tight restricting pressure that attacked the inside of his chest. Despite being very ready, he realised he wasn't prepared for that. The officer was about to blindly take a shot in the dark, worried that a monster might've incapacitated him in such a way before moving in for the kill. But as he raised his right arm, he heard a distinctly human voice, one that appeared to be female through the sound of his own loud groaning.

"Oh! Oh NO!!", came a horrified squeal from behind the haze in front of him, thus prompting him to at least hold back on his original plan to pull the trigger, even if he didn't lower his right arm. 

"I'm so sorry! Oh, I thought... I'm SO sorry", the female voice continued as Chris didn't have time to jerk his head back as a second liquid was squirted at his face. 

"That should neutralise the effects", the woman kept explaining, "But I didn't expect there to be any other people in here and I thought you were a monster and I didn't have time to stop and I am SO sorry!". 

The female voice gushed, indicating she was done exclaiming, at least for now. But her words were also true as the RPD agent felt the burning sensation passing from his face while his chest relaxed and allowed him to breathe easier. He rubbed his eyes with his left sleeve, lowering the handgun by his right side as he eventually caught sight of a petite Caucasian woman who remained within an arm's reach in front of him. Once his eyes focused in the quiet room, he was able to relax when he was sure that he was alone with her, and as importantly, there were no monsters here. Before him stood a girl who could not have been any older than his little sister Claire. Short auburn hair dangled in front of her face, obscuring the view of big brown eyes. Her hands quickly darted to move the askew tresses as she bit down on her lower lip, trying not to raise her head while she kept looking at the carpet. There was more than a subtle blush of embarrassment across her cheeks as Redfield was able to catch his breath and feel normal again after about half a minute of loud panting.  

"Christopher Redfield, ma'am", he announced, sounding as professional as he could, considering he had just regained the ability to breathe again, "I'm a member of the STARS Alpha team, Raccoon City branch. We're here to get you out".

"I.. I know", the young woman replied in a more regular tone, feeling calmer herself.

"Have you come across other members of the squad, ma'am?", the male officer felt a swelling of hope that the rest of the STARS squad was alright.

"No, but well, I'm Rebecca Chambers, sir", the young lady informed him.

Redfield only stood in place, the sticky liquid still apparent on his cheeks, mouth and forehead, but the lack of a facial expression on his part indicated to her that he had no idea what significance that name should have to him.

"Rebecca Chambers of the Bravo team?", the woman continued when seeing his lack of response, "I kinda got subbed in at the last minute. I only arrived two days ago, but I _have_ ID, I think maybe somewhere, if I didn't drop it".

"Oh, damn! Are you serious?!", Redfield's eyes widened in a show of joy, causing her to smile back also as he addressed her in an easy-going fashion instead of a formal one, "Is anyone else from Bravo team with you?". 

"Uh, no, I have no idea where _anyone_ is", she forced his smile to lessen, "At least not any more. We landed here, well, not here, obviously, but outside, about a day ago, in the middle of the night. I don't even know exactly what time it is now. And 'landed' may not be the right word since our helicopter had an explosion and Kevin crash-landed. But we all got out OK, which is what counted at the time. But anyway, as soon as we're outside, Richard yells out a warning, and we get attacked by what must've been a couple of dozen dogs. We got split up. I _think_ most of us made it, though. I seen Enrico, and he spoke to me on the radio, but he left to come here, and I haven't heard, or seen anything, from him since. But I'm afraid I have something to tell you that's bad news, sir. I...".

Agent Chambers looked up at him, making eye contact for the first time. Redfield could see that her eyes were struggling to not water as he braced himself for whatever she knew. Apparently, he wasn't the only one with a grim report to deliver.

"Edward Dewey is dead, sir", she whispered in a lower tone, her voice shaking slightly as she did, "He died with me almost 24 hours ago, very soon after we crash-landed".

The female officer intentionally left out the part where she had come across agent Dewey just prior to his death while in the company of Billy Cohen. She reasoned that the mention of the military fugitive's name had no bearing with her current conversation and would only complicate an already dangerous situation.

"I'm afraid my news isn't much better", Redfield rubbed the back of his head with the left palm while turning away from his younger colleague and looking up at the ceiling.

He sighed, hoping that she wouldn't start crying at the additional deaths that he was about to inform her of. The young man was having a hard enough time holding on to his composure without the risk of breaking down at all the good people who were constantly dropping dead all around him.

"Agent Frost of Alpha team and agents Sullivan and Dooley of Bravo team have, so far, been confirmed dead", he quickly made the whole statement without catching his breath, "Agents Burton and Valentine, along with captain Wesker are somewhere in this... this _place_ with me. But I don't know where they are or _how_ they are, for that matter".

Having finished what he needed to say, he turned back around to look in Chambers' direction, not surprised when he saw her eyes watering as she seemed to be losing the battle to not break down in tears.

"I'm sorry", he stepped closer and placed his left arm on her shoulder, looking down at her youthful face as he spoke, "But we _still_ have three people from my team and another three from yours who could very well still be alive somewhere. Agents Aiken and Speyer, along with captain Marini from Bravo team may be out there also. I need you with me if we have a chance of finding them and getting all eight of us out of here".

"Yes, yes, you're right", she nodded between sniffles, pinching her nose with the right thumb and index finger to stop it from running, "You can count on me, sir".

"And please stop with the 'sir' referrals", Redfield stated as he took his left arm back and reached into his uniform, "I'm only a few years older than you. And speaking of finding our people, do you know how to use one of these, Rebecca?".

The male officer held out Sullivan's Beretta pistol since he didn't see any weapons on Chambers' person. Besides, she wouldn't have greeted him with an acid spray if she was armed with a handgun.

"I'm just the STARS medic, s... Chris", the younger agent took a careful hold of the metal handle, making sure to keep it pointed towards the floor as she controlled it, "But I _have_ used these before. Fourteen rounds plus one in the body, if I'm not mistaken".

"Precisely", Redfield then handed her two extra clips that she accepted with her free hand, "No more having to create imaginative weapons from this house. Just use that to kill whatever isn't a human till we're out of here".

"The freaks won't know what hit'em, Chris", Chambers gave what the older man suspected was a fake smile, "I didn't think I stood a chance to be able to take on four of those things when I ran into them outside, they are just so scary close up. So I just panicked and ran in here. I was desperately trying to put something together that may stop them when you came in".

"Those monsters are already toast", the more experienced agent lightly patted her on the upper back as he moved towards the door, "Just stay with me, whatever happens, OK? I don't want any more separations if we can help it. With any luck, the number of STARS should keep getting bigger".

"Any idea where we're heading first, Chris?", the smaller woman whispered once he opened the door and peeked outside, seeing nothing move, "Or are we just moving at random? And are you _sure_ you want me to leave my spray here? It really could be something quite useful as a last resort in case we run low on ammo, considering how many of those horrible things there are".

"Don't worry about that", Redfield casually exited the room and began walking back to the staircase first, surprising Chambers with his relaxed demeanour, "Besides, it's too short a range and I don't even think those things _feel_ whatever kind of pepper spray you created out of thin air. And we can start by going back to the second floor balcony. Hopefully we'll run into Jill there. Sounds good?".

"Yes sir!", she nodded enthusiastically as she left the acid spray on the floor and gripped the Beretta with both hands. 

Once outside the room, Chambers continued pointing the handgun towards the floor while lightly jogging after him. She didn't know why he had mentioned his intention of finding agent Valentine before anyone else in Alpha or Bravo teams, but at the moment, she didn't care. Things had finally started to go well for a change.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The man in the shades was tense, his body language moving in a fashion that indicated he was jumpy, even as he fought non-stop to control the stress he experienced. The appearance alone was enough to tell Shakahnna that captain 

Wesker was indeed the friend she had known for over a year and not his twisted alter ego who enjoyed cutting living humans apart in the name of weapons and profit. Unlike her most hateful adversary, this man looked as if his body couldn't survive any more pressure and might shatter into thousands of pieces if the tautness in it increased. This was in sharp contrast with the other personality who, while carrying the same face and voice, always seemed to be relaxed or livid, but never particularly on edge.

On top of that, Wesker was dressed in his usual blue RPD uniform, with a black, multi-pocketed vest over his torso, unlike the white lab coat that his other half always seemed to be comfortable in. He appeared so unhappy at the current time, stealthily making his way through a strange, green/brown corridor as if he was a trespasser in enemy territory. Where this was, she couldn't say. But the first things she wanted to do was to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him that things would be alright. Such was the way she felt like acting towards whichever of her friends was having a rough time, even if her own situation might've been worse than theirs. She had done so the first time Chino visited the cell room in the RPD basement to keep her company, or when the young officer returned the favour whenever her temper was close to being lost. 

However, the redhead knew that her wishes of even communicating with Wesker, much less comforting him, couldn't take place. It was because she knew that, for whatever reason, she once again found herself in a strange environment that she couldn't interact with. After all, the fact that she was wet told her better than anything else that her body was still unable to leave the confines of the cryogenic tube that held it hostage. She was still there, drowned in a large cylinder full of some unknown liquid, most likely unconscious till that awful magic spell was removed by external factors. But for now, at least, it seemed that the teenager had a different story to experience when it came to her mind. She reasoned that everything she was seeing at the present time was perhaps a flashback of past events. That surely explained why, regardless of how hard she tried to will herself to become solid, she couldn't interact with what happened and was thus stuck merely watching a mental string of the events. These things had already happened, and couldn't possibly be manipulated by her now.

Besides that particular explanation, though, there was also the possibility that what she was seeing was indeed the present and not the past, but due to the unavailability of her physical form, she still couldn't correlate with any of it. Either way, the glass prison she was literally floating in at the moment made it impossible for her to be anything other than a witness, rather than the participant she so eagerly wanted to become.

-------------------------------

Wesker's boots quietly met the wooden floor below, his back always against one side of the corridor that he proceeded through. His head was constantly wavering from side to side, and also from the floor to the high ceiling, as the dark environment would've been the perfect place for any number of infected animals or humans to use as a cover for their presence before attacking.

So far he had seen dogs first, humans second and crows third. As a result, he was currently down to 68 rounds of flatheads between the pockets of his uniform and his weapon, having already gotten rid of more than his fair share of monsters. Not that the statistic made him feel any better. He still felt partly responsible for being naive enough to be working for Umbrella for the better part of two decades all the while its other employees were committing their crimes against humanity. And no amount of short-term violence against the monsters was going to make that guilt disappear.

Even worse, he had actually made two friends for the first time in his life, and one of them was now dead and he didn't know the whereabouts or well-being of the other one. And it was all due to the creatures that were created by the employer that he had once trusted to be honest and legitimate. The thought of Shakahnna's fate made him feel even more sad and angry, fuelling his patrol of this mansion during the search and destroy mission of monsters and the rescue mission of human beings. It meant that until he found the redhead, whether she was dead or alive, and then destroyed Umbrella and all those who knew of its true nature, he couldn't allow himself to have any rest. Despite those long-term plans, though, the RPD captain who knew he wouldn't be a police officer for long would've currently just settled for finding the teenager and freeing her from this vile company's grasp, assuming she was even here. After that, of course, were several police officers who needed to be found and most likely rescued from some part of this maze-like building. Which brought him to the question that had been bothering him for quite a while now, which was the one that begged to ask when agent Redfield had wandered off on his own, and why the young officer had felt it necessary to split up without even informing him under such dangerous conditions. Wherever he was, along with the rest of the Alpha and Bravo members, the younger STARS agent must've been scared, regardless of how well-trained he was.

"But then again, we all know who's gonna suffer the worst for this, don't we?", Wesker talked to himself as he was visually combing the dark ceiling, his trusty Desert Eagle loaded full of flathead rounds and ready to tear apart any creature he came across, "Once this is over, a certain vice president of quality control, one Mr. Claymont, will be tied to a chair and personally skinned alive by yours truly, and he'll stay alive for an hour in that condition for every person who's died. And I _will_ be cutting at least a few of his damn fingers off".

A rustling noise came from the deeper end of the hallway, so the man in the shades pointed the barrel of the Desert Eagle in that direction before wondering what kind of creature could be making such a sound. It was definitely not being done by a human, whether a normal one or an infected zombie. It was also too light to be made by a dog, so that only left a creature that he hadn't encountered before now.

Sure enough, a mass that was the size of an adult human being emerged from the darkness that was ahead of him, almost in response to him pondering what it was. The RPD captain's eyes narrowed in concentration when he spotted an olive-green coloured spider that was marching vertically on the wall opposite the one that he was walking by, the mutated monster being five to six feet long, about four feet wide and two feet tall. The eight-legged animal spotted him a mere moment after having been seen itself, so it stayed in place on the vertical wall just ten yards away. The human was already aiming with more accuracy when the creature lifted its front fangs, ready to spit out some mysterious substance whose identity Wesker was in no mood to find out.

The police officer pulled the trigger first, an ear-splitting blast echoing through the corridor as a flathead round entered the spider's head and continued tearing through its torso. The arachnid's legs shrivelled in pain as dark green liquid spilled out of it, staining the wall and then the wooden floor as it flopped onto it, extending and retracting its body parts for one last time before ceasing all movement.

Captain Wesker exhaled once, a satisfied breath exiting his lungs as he carefully walked towards the infected monster, keeping his shaded eyes on it as well as his destination further down the hallway. As he did, the RPD official smoothly reached into his vest and withdrew a single flathead bullet, replacing the spent casing with it. He needed to make sure his weapon was fully loaded at all times, and eight rounds were always better than seven. He came upon the first wooden door that was on the opposite wall of his location, so the officer stayed as quiet as possible while moving next to the entryway and testing out the doorknob. He had no difficulty opening it and, upon peeking through the passage, he spotted an adjacent tiny hallway whose walls were covered in ornate artwork. It was all paintings of what Wesker would consider to be dull subjects, ranging from ordinary people to houses. At the end of the corridor, a staircase led to the upstairs floor towards the right. The STARS agent wanted to remain on the ground floor for now, so seeing no monsters and, more importantly, no humans, he closed the door and proceeded down his original path. 

The former Umbrella guard passed a second door that was only a few steps after the first, on the same side of the wall. This one was made out of steel, and decorated in an overly fancy manner. Gripping the steel knob with his left hand, Wesker felt that it was locked. Obviously, there was something behind that door that was worth hiding or protecting. But he reasoned he couldn't shoot through it because the bullets could easily ricochet or simply jam the locking mechanism, thus not allowing him to go through it even if he found the key to it in the future. About a dozen wary steps after passing the apparently deceased spider, the uniformed man came upon a right turn in the corridor, with another steel door that was to the left side of the hall. He could've tested out the status of that third doorknob, but he first wanted to take a look down the right-hand path that the hallway led to, just to make certain that no unwelcome creatures were there while he investigated the second steel door in as many minutes.

He wasn't sure what he expected to see when he took the turn, but he had tried to realistically ready himself for whatever abominations of nature might've greeted him. But even his imagination wasn't prepared for what his eyes saw because he came to within three steps of what he could only describe as a transparent ghost. 

Whether it was a spectre or an illusion, or any other unknown supernatural occurrence, Shakahnna Warren was standing right there in front of him. Her entire figure was soaking wet while she was barefoot and dressed only in a lab coat that carried several dark patches of red within it, which he immediately recognized to be dried blood. There may have been wounds on the soles of her feet, but it was simply too dark to confirm or deny that the small pool of liquid underneath her was water or blood. But considering that she only stood in place, not trying to tend to any injuries she might've had, he had to assume that she wasn't physically hurt at this time. 

Captain Wesker used his left index finger to lower the sunglasses towards his nose as he carefully looked her over, still trying to explain what this apparition was or how she came to be here. After several seconds, he returned the shades to their regular spot, eyeing the drenched red locks that were hanging from her head in a limp fashion. At least he knew that it wasn't just a still picture, as the redhead was truly moving her face and arms. He couldn't read the expression that graced her wet face, except that her unmistakable eyes were so intently focused on his figure, so he knew it couldn't be anyone else.

"Is this real?", the baffled man uttered to himself, not sure if she could hear him or not, and already having forgotten about the third closed door that remained several yards behind him.

Everything he'd seen so far, even the monstrous animals who had to be put down for everyone's sake, could be explained by science. But here was a phantom who appeared to be alive, but also refused to make any noise, and he simply couldn't explain her origin. But at the same time, he wasn't able to look away from her, not when she was the representation of the one captive he hoped to find alive.

------------------------------------

Shakahnna didn't need long to understand that Wesker was unexpectedly seeing her. Unlike the people who had staggered out of the mangled helicopter, who didn't spot her presence despite her repeated verbal and physical attempts to get their attention, here was the man in the sunglasses who came within an arm's reach of her face even without her attempting to interact with him. The redhead didn't know why the others couldn't see her but Wesker could. Maybe the helicopter scene was a flashback, just like the family of three who had been murdered by the outbreak of zombies, while this particular event was taking place in the present. Either way, she didn't care, but this was her first chance to talk to anyone who wasn't nuts in a long time.

"Weskie!", she heard the quick, enthusiastic words emanating from her own lips, "You gotta be hearing me! It's you, not you, but there's another Wesker, and he's very bad, Weskie. This has all be'd him. You gotted another personality and I can't stay. I... If you make it to the labs, you gotta get me out before he takes over. He'll do that, he'll force control from you, Weskie. But I'm slipping, Weskie. I'm so sorry, this drains so much. I can't make this be working any more! Can't be here no more".

The teenager panted, feeling that she was slowly dissipating into the air despite her desperate clinging to stay there. And to make matters worse, she finally realised that the older man's expression didn't change at all, except that he was curiously wondering why her lips moved. He hadn't heard a thing she said.

"No! FUCK! Why can't you hear me, Weskie?!", the redhead added, feeling blood thundering through her temples and pressure increasing in her body, indicating to her that she wasn't going to last here very long before she returned to her state of unconsciousness again.

Shakahnna wanted to scream out that what he was seeing was real, that she was actually there. But she was still thrown off by the surprising fact that her friend could see her.

---------------------------------

The RPD captain watched Shakahnna's eyes widening when he came closer to her, but the teenager kept opening and closing her mouth repeatedly, as if she had several things to tell him at once and didn't know which statement to make first. But all Wesker heard was total silence, not a single sound coming out of the girl's mouth.

"Shak, I can't hear you", he finally blurted out, feeling frustrated, "What are you trying to say?".

Except the redhead didn't try talking to him any more, as if she already realised that she was unable to say anything, much to her anguish. The girl's ethereal hand reached up, palm towards the ceiling and fingers outstretched. It was an offering from her, as she wanted him to take her hand. Without thinking much about it, Wesker reached up with his free left hand and tried to place his on top of hers. But instead of being able to feel her palm underneath his, his hand only passed through it. The police officer saw her expression worsening as a result, the teenager getting more and more worked up. Tears began forming underneath her eyes before they poured down her face, but then dissipated in the air without ever reaching the floor.

"What can I do? Tell me where you are!", he whispered in a loud fashion as he intentionally lifted his left forearm and kept that hand over hers, even though he couldn't feel her and had guessed that she couldn't feel him.

The girl who had been missing for weeks didn't try to say anything else, maybe because she already knew it'd be a fruitless endeavour. And while he stood in place in front of her, their hands over each other, Wesker could do nothing on his part other than watching her fade away into nothingness. Shakahnna kept her eyes locked with his for the several seconds it took her figure to completely disappear, but was then totally gone, leaving the RPD official there alone.

Wesker withdrew his left hand, trying to make sense of what he had just seen while he gripped the handle of the Desert Eagle a bit tighter than before.

"I'm guessing _that's_ what it feels like to be totally useless", he uttered to himself due to his inability to make a difference for the girl who obviously didn't want to leave.

His face looked over the entire right turn the hallway led him to, searching for and finding no camera equipment whatsoever, just in case he had found a moving picture projectile that might've created the live image the officer just interacted with. Wesker didn't expect to find any such electronic gadgets, as he felt there was a more unnatural reason for what he had experienced, and he ultimately didn't. But that didn't explain why a teenager who had gone missing after snooping around the computer of an Umbrella puppet was now appearing to him as a ghost.

The RPD officer thought to himself that if he didn't believe in a soul before, that now was a great time to start. But regardless, this mysterious event only added proof to his suspicion that his only remaining living friend was somewhere in this mansion.

Wesker just hoped that she was still alive, and he hadn't just witnessed her soul leaving this world after the girl's death. He turned around, heading back towards the steel door that was behind him, intending to see if anything useful could be found from there, when he stopped in place for an unknown reason. The police official shook his head several times from side to side, feeling a cloud that materialized in his mind. It only took a few seconds to clear up, but once it did, his body appeared much more relaxed than before.

"Idiot", he called out loud as he sighed at his alternate personality's waste of time.

Looking down at the STARS watch on his left wrist, he made a mental note of what time it was.

"Still have half an hour to burn all the text that has references to her on it", he continued thinking out loud, "Then will have to purge the computer mainframe of all my findings too. The less I have to share, the better, once we're at HCF. No way will they be getting anything when it comes to my own special little project. Plenty of time before the combat data needs to be logged".

Heading back to where he had come from, past the dead spider on the floor, the man in the shades reached down and withdrew a personal radio out of his uniform. He pressed a button and waited through a few seconds of static until a male voice greeted him on the other side.

"Barry, if you would be so kind as to show up at the lobby exactly thirty minutes from now", he spoke into the transistor, "I'll be sure to pass on your love to Moira and Polly should you happen to be late".

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"What do _you_ want?", agent Burton addressed the other individual who was standing in the middle of the lobby as he came out of the right-hand side door, still clutching the powerful Colt Python in his right hand.

"You know, considering we served together, you can come across cold at times, old friend", captain Wesker rested his left arm by his side after having checked the time on that wristwatch again, his right hand always clutching the Desert Eagle, "Took you long enough to get here, too".

"I ran into what _used_ to be people on the way", Burton protested, hating every second that he had to interact with his superior officer.

Just by instinct, the STARS officer's eyes shifted towards the front door, and he realised that Redfield's empty M-16 rifle was still in place. So Wesker hadn't removed it, which made him feel a bit better. Burton had no reason to believe why the captain would do such a thing, of course, seeing as to how his own life would be placed in even greater danger too, but nothing could be assumed when it came to Wesker's mind. 

"Ah, yes, I'm familiar with who, or I should say, what, you're referring to", the man in the shades replied in a tone that was much too calm for his surroundings, "Those were, in fact, the same people who created the virus that ended up killing and subsequently turning them into zombies. Poetic justice, wouldn't you say?".

"You still haven't told me why you radioed me!", Burton raised his voice, however slightly, the stress and irritation he felt beginning to be too difficult to keep in check, "I don't even know where Chris and Jill are, and you're calling me in here when I should be looking for them. What the hell do you want?".

"Never for the small-talk", his antagonist appeared disappointed while shaking his head and approaching the STARS officer at the same time, "Then I'll tell you. There's something I'd very much like you to see".

"Do I have a choice?", the larger subordinate asked, already knowing what the answer would be, but wanting to inquire anyway.

"Barry...", Wesker grinned as if his officer had asked an amusingly silly question, "Of course you don't".

The RPD captain turned towards the staircase even while Burton sighed to himself.

"Right this way", the man in the shades commanded, climbing one step at a time and saying nothing else.

The only sound heard was the two sets of footsteps ascending the staircase until both men reached the top. From there, Burton could see that there were three possible ways to go, the first two being staircases which led to opposite directions perpendicular to his current location, and the third being a door that was directly ahead. Not surprisingly, Wesker knew exactly which direction he wanted to go, probably because he spent as much time in this damn mansion as any of the former inhabitants, Burton guessed to himself. So taking a few steps towards the door in front of him, the corrupt RPD mole reached into one of the many pockets in his uniform and withdrew what he knew to be a skeleton key. It could be used as a manual over-ride for all the locks in Umbrella's unnecessary defence system, which made it a valuable asset in here.

Unlocking the wooden door, Wesker pushed it open and was greeted with outdoor scenery. A cool wind met them both as Burton exited through the doorway also and the captain then pulled the door closed behind them. A single lamp that was shaped like semi-sphere hung in the air, illuminating the otherwise dark environment. With the only sound now being that of the breeze rustling leaves throughout, Wesker casually strolled down a dozen steps to their left, with Burton following him, but feeling nowhere near as relaxed.

Once at the bottom of the staircase, both men turned to a flat ground on the right, and then found another set of steps that waited to lead them down towards a right path yet again. Descending onward for the second time and then finding solid ground, Burton found himself following his antagonist as the man in the shades walked past an adjacent corridor on the right. That's because Wesker appeared intent on following the twenty-yard long path in front of him that led to a dead end as a large stone with a cherub on it blocked their path. As far as agent Burton could see, there was nowhere to go at the end of this walkway, as the entire area was surrounded by the massive forest. So the RPD official wondered where the madman that he once thought he knew was leading him, and why.

Barry Burton didn't have to worry about his destination for long because he next heard several hungry moans that broke through the silence. He whipped his head around, aware that the source of the dangerous noise came from the outdoor adjacent corridor that they had just passed. With both his hands gripping the handle of the Colt Python, Burton turned his entire body in the direction behind him, hoping that he wasn't making a mistake by keeping his back at the RPD captain. But then again, if Wesker wanted to kill him, he could've done so already, as the high-ranking STARS official had made it painfully obvious that Burton's family would die if anything happened to him. So the STARS weapon expert didn't have the freedom to attack him even in self-defence, and Wesker knew that. Thus, for now, the RPD member who was also a family man had to worry about the threat that was staggering towards him in the near-dark from the pathway on the left and not about the problem who was standing behind him. He just hoped that this wasn't the last time he would get to think of his wife and children.

Sure enough, the outline of a slow zombie who was slightly hunched over appeared around the corner, making its way towards him. The officer wasn't sure if the monster was tracking him based on sound or smell, or even another variable that he couldn't think of, but he knew it wasn't due to the creature's eyesight. The reasoning was due to the fact that a zombie had previously come close to snapping its mouth in front of his face, thus making it obvious to him that its eyes were filmed over by cataracts, which meant that seeing through them wouldn't be possible. He just wished that the knowledge of his enemy's lack of eyesight could've helped him, especially when he saw two others who joined the first two-legged monster and all three were now walking towards him, arms extended.

As dire as the situation may have sounded, though, Burton wasn't worried since he had six rounds waiting to be used in his Colt Python, and two bullets for each zombie should've been more than enough. But just as the optimistic thought entered his mind, the officer first heard and then saw four more zombies emerging from the dense shrubbery that was to his own right. These four creatures were closer than the first three, only about five yards away at most, so Burton took a quick glance towards his superior, expecting to see Wesker aiming with his own firearm.

Instead, the burly officer's eyes widened when he realized that the RPD captain had already walked all the way towards the mausoleum at the end of the twenty-yard long path and was merely leaning his back on it. The man in the shades had his arms crossed, with the Desert Eagle protruding from under his left arm pit, and without any anxiety appearing on his face.

"Wesker, what the HELL are you doing?!", Burton demanded, his own expression revealing the combination of fear and outrage that he felt.

The RPD captain said nothing, only opting to keep the shaded eyes on him. For all the concern that Wesker showed, though, one would've thought that he's getting accosted by a group of schoolchildren rather than a bunch of flesh-eating cannibals. Barry didn't have time to try to reason with his idea of a human monster, so he quickly turned his attention back towards the four advancing atrocities, each of them with two arms that were eagerly waiting to touch him. The nearest one had its fingertips a mere inches away from his face, and Burton could feel the air shifting under its movement before he pulled the trigger once. He was rewarded with an explosive sound that blew up the first zombie's head, showering him with shreds of bone and chunks of bloodied flesh. 

The RPD official worked clockwise, aiming his weapon at the monster at the immediate right of his last kill, anxiously pulling the trigger twice with less careful aim. But two rounds exploded into the second zombie's chest, basically separating the creature's head and shoulders from its stomach. That inhuman abhorrence fell on the ground in two distinct pieces without any more sounds, leaving Burton free to back away from the third and fourth monsters, thus aiming the Colt Python again and sending a bullet into each of their faces. The last two zombies that had emerged from the encompassing forest fell down on their knees and then laid flat on their stomachs, both of them missing a head and their blood mingling with the blood from the first two cannibals. 

Agent Burton was careful to not trip over the four destroyed bodies that were by his feet, so he turned his attention towards the original three zombies who were now halfway towards him. All the time hoping that no new monsters would emerge from the surrounding shrubbery, as he doubted even his ability to struggle successfully when surprised by some of these creatures. He held his breath as he aimed the nearly-empty weapon at the monster who was the closest of the three, pulling the trigger and striking his adversary in the jaw. The zombie's lower face was decimated as it fell backwards, its upper back meeting the hard ground below as its two fellow monsters ignored it and continued pacing forward, always inching closer to their supposed meal.

In as hurried a pace as he could afford without fumbling and dropping the weapon and ammunition, Burton rushed to empty the six empty cylinders from his firearm and reloaded them, all the while walking backwards to put as much space between himself and his two predators as possible. He finally completed the task and undid the safety on the Colt Python when he reached the spot that was about two steps in front of where Wesker still stood, as calm and seemingly aloof as ever. Holding his breath again, Burton was able to fire two more times, each shot finding its mark in a subsequent head and causing a decapitated zombie to sink first towards its knees and then to remain lifelessly on the ground.

It was only then that the RPD weapons expert turned back to face his superior officer, smelling the odour of gunpowder around him as he did.

"What are you, suicidal or something?!", Burton accused, keeping his weapon aimed towards the ground despite his overwhelming desire to use it on the person he was addressing, "It's one thing to not give a damn about any of us, but I'd think you'd at least work with us to save your _own_ ass!".

"I suppose you could draw that conclusion from my actions", Wesker replied, finally undoing his arms and turning back around to face the stone mausoleum, "But no. I just have every faith in your abilities, Barry".

The RPD captain kept the Desert Eagle in his right grip, thus using his freed left hand to reach into the lower vest pocket and withdrew what appeared to

Burton to be a triangular piece of green flint. The burly man behind Wesker didn't understand the meaning of anything that the Umbrella spy was doing, but the shaded man's motives soon became clear. That's because Burton saw Wesker trying to place the ornamental green piece in a spot on the surface of the stone cherub that appeared to have been made just for it. As soon as the flint was in place, the massive stone plaque with the cherub on it rose about two yards into the air, revealing space that was large enough for them to walk through without even needing to crouch. A long, poorly-lit, downward staircase was behind the secret passageway.

"You first", Wesker looked back and pointed down at the steps with his left hand in mock chivalry. 

Feeling the same about this new place as he did about the rest of the mansion, thus hating it, Burton kept his thoughts to himself as he obliged and walked past his tormentor. The RPD subordinate carefully climbed down the steps, looking behind him in a useless attempt to make sure that Wesker wasn't planning to lock him in this fortified basement, and also hoping that he wasn't being led down to see the remains of his family.

Wesker, true to his form of knowing this entire nightmarish place like the back of his hand, followed him down the steps and managed to navigate his way around even with the sunglasses still on his face. The steep stairway went down in a straight line, and after climbing what felt like the thousandth one, agent Burton finally came to a flat ground in front of an open doorway. He peeked through it and was glad to only see a roughly circular, empty room, also illuminated only with a furnace at the middle of it.

"What're we doing here?", Burton asked while looking over his shoulder behind him, unaware that his superior officer had holstered the Desert Eagle.

"Observation", was all Wesker said while directly behind the weapons specialist.

"Observing what?", the subordinate failed to keep the agitation out of his voice, becoming impatient with the captain's games while his other two colleagues were somewhere else in the mansion. 

In what appeared to be movement that was too fluid to follow with the naked eye, Wesker slipped his right hand around the handle of Burton's Colt Python and jerked the weapon away from the burly man's grip. Even before Burton had time to verbally protest, he found himself being shoved through the entryway by the captain's left hand. The RPD footsoldier spun around once he was a step inside the large, subterranean chamber. He was rushing back towards the doorway, his instincts screaming at him to get out due to the way he'd been forced inside, when he saw steel bars that had horizontal supports built into them crashing down from the top of the doorway. Burton gripped two of the bars with his hands, grunting in frustration as he couldn't lift them back up towards where they had dropped down from. It took him three tries to realise that the bars weren't possible to be moved manually, but most likely by the same mechanism that was used to bring them down to begin with. To make things worse, he looked across the horizontal and vertical bars and saw Wesker standing on the other side of the entryway with a hint of a satisfied smile on his face, indicating that things had gone exactly as he wanted.

"WHAT IS THIS, YOU COWARD?!", Burton screamed in an accusing fashion, "Is this your idea of some sick game?!".

"Game, perhaps", Wesker stood in place, the Colt Python resting in his right palm, "Coward? No. I used to feed the V-ACTS, you know".

"What the fuck is that?", the trapped man asked, this time with a regular tone of voice.

"Funny you should ask", the corrupt individual with the sunglasses commented as he reached for an area that was beyond Burton's line of vision and appeared to press a button.

An overhead noise like chains rattling sounded behind him. Burton had the desire to stay in place and see if he'd get lucky and be able to lift the bars up on his own, or even get luckier and have Wesker come close enough to be grabbed by the collar and have his face be repeatedly slammed against the bars. But he knew he needed to stay alert to survive whatever monstrous creatures or traps were waiting for him due to the sadist that masqueraded as a police captain, especially now that he felt naked due to the absence of his trusty Colt Python.

Turning around and away from the smiling madman in the shades, agent Burton didn't need long to see the source of the strange noise once he looked up. He noticed what appeared to be a coffin that was resting horizontally near the middle of the ceiling, held there by four, long chains that were attached to its edges after starting from dark corners of the ceiling also. One by one, the chains were snapped, again most likely due to some mechanism that Wesker had access to, he reasoned. The first chain released its hold on one of the bottom parts of the coffin, letting it dangle slightly lower towards the floor. As it did, Burton visually combed his surrounding area, finding nothing on the dirty floor that could pass for a weapon. Swearing at himself for never carrying a secondary firearm but only additional ammunition for the Colt Python, the large man placed his back towards the wall, waiting to see what destiny held in that macabre box.

The second chain that was holding on to the lower half of the coffin snapped, thus letting it dangle vertically by the two restraints at its top half only. Amid the dust particles that rained down upon him and the floor, Burton could also see dark fluid that dripped out of the base of the metal container. He couldn't tell whether it was blood or not, and he wasn't willing to get closer to it to find out, partly because the coffin seemed ready to snap out of the chains before it crashed at the spot below it. But just underneath where it dangled, the mysterious liquid was gathering into a small pool due to the constant drip from overhead.

A third chain was heard to be breaking, but instead of one of the two remaining constraints giving away, more dust particles rained down from the ceiling as a whole, along with more of what could've been blood emerging from the bottom of the coffin. Then, a fourth snapping sound followed through, this one ripping the last two chains off the hinges that attached them to the front of the coffin and the grisly box fell vertically down. It crashed on the floor and stayed still for a moment before falling on its back. Agent Burton saw its alloy cover bursting open upon its secondary impact against the floor, thus it wasn't locked in place any more but staying closed simply due to the effect of gravity.

Staying in place as far away from the coffin as the underground chamber would allow him, Burton next gasped when he saw a zombie's head being lifted from the horizontal container. He shouldn't have been surprised that such a monster was inside the coffin, of course, but he still felt his body stiffening up even more when he knew for sure he was facing a creature who felt no pain and could probably infect him, and all the while with him lacking his firearm. So the 38-year old man clenched his hands into fists, hoping he could beat the former human down with punches and kicks before it got to do any damage against him. Still watching his adversary rising out of the unlocked coffin, Burton saw it waving its red-coloured head towards its own left shoulder while it first sat up. 

The monster next stood at its full height, walking out of its metal container, and it was only then that agent Burton saw what made this creature different from all the others he'd faced so far in Wesker's twisted circus. The monster that rose out of the sarcophagus and wiped its mouth with the left sleeve looked around the room, its eyes free of focus. As it did, the human who was examining him spotted five, 6-inch long straight claws that were on each of its two hands and two bare feet. The zombie stopped searching the room when its face looked in his direction, probably because it smelled him standing there.

Burton was still debating whether he should attack it or wait for it to come to him when the creature turned its body in his direction and rushed him at a dead run, intending to skewer him as soon as reaching his spot. Agent Burton didn't have time to swear at the new, most unpleasant surprise as he reflexively lunged to his own right, avoiding the zombie's left hand that swiped at the wall behind him. Its left claws showed no damage or pain as they met with the brick wall, so it turned to curiously stare in the human's new direction as Burton backed away towards the empty coffin itself. He wasn't out of shape, but he didn't need to be a psychic to predict that he would eventually lose this deadly game of cat and mouse against his predator because the zombie most likely wouldn't get tired as an extension of its inability to feel pain. Plus, it was probably starving, having been locked in that metal box for an extended period of time, and on top of those variables, it only had to catch him once to stab or infect him. So the RPD agent frantically knew that he had to come up with a plan to at least incapacitate his hungry opponent even while the latter bolted towards him again.

The idea of hiding within the coffin entered his mind as he stepped past the horizontal container while quickly walking backwards, his boots stepping into what he now recognized to have been blood that was dripping out of it earlier. But Burton quickly came to the conclusion that it wasn't something he wanted to try because he'd be a sitting duck if the zombie could stab through the metal surface. So he turned around and put as much distance between himself and his pursuer as he could manage, spotting a loose brick that must've cracked when the coffin had fallen down. The STARS officer crouched during the forward run and grabbed the brick, then turning around long enough to see the two-legged monster dashing towards him still, this time with its right arm lifted in the air and ready to swing down. So Burton hurled the brick at its face, disappointed that the projectile struck the zombie's right eye and made it jerk its head back, but the monster itself only slowed down for an instant before resuming its dash for him.

Burton staggered backwards, stopping only when his back met the hard wall behind him, and was still searching for another makeshift weapon from his environment when the zombie reached him. With no time to improvise, the human used his left arm and grabbed the creature's right wrist as it was coming towards his throat. The RPD agent kept his own left arm straight, making sure to avoid bringing those large claws any closer to his own self, and simultaneously gripped the monster's left wrist with his right hand.

The intense standstill lasted for several, long seconds with Burton successfully keeping his stalker at bay, his two, strong arms constantly remaining straight and keeping it from inching closer to deliver the fatal blow it desired. Tiny beads of sweat began to gather on his brow as the strain of holding off something that was even stronger than him showed on his face, at the same time smelling the creature's vile aroma while it drooled. The human was partially aware that he was lucky at the zombie's lack of desire or inability to kick him with its clawed feet, as he was having a hard enough time retaining this current pose. 

He must've heard himself grunting for the twentieth time in under a minute, not knowing what could save him from the danger that threatened to overtake him as soon as his arms gave out even for a moment. He couldn't afford to die here, being cut to pieces in some horrific basement, never to see his family due to being killed at the hands of a monster that was created and then sent after him by a human freak. To make his situation worse, that same freak used his wife and children as bargaining chips to keep him from talking to his friends about what was happening, and that was almost as bad as having his loved ones' lives in the hands of Umbrella thugs. 

So no dying here. Not before he got to pay Wesker back for all the hell the fake captain made him go through after countless lives had been wasted as a result of monsters being set loose, and definitely not before he got to go back to being in his kids' lives. Moira and Polly would need their father to guide them through whatever challenges life had set for them, especially if the world was full of human and non-human monsters like these. He even promised himself to completely forgive Brad Vickers for abandoning everyone as long as he could make sure that Wesker wasn't around to harm anyone ever again, starting with his wife and kids. But for any of that to happen, he needed to get out of here alive first. So officer Burton's mind ordered his arms to push further, to overpower his current adversary and then proceed to bash its brains in with a rock. Unfortunately for him, though, his arms were being pushed to their physical limit as is, and couldn't deliver the extra strength they were ordered to by his mind. Thus, the standstill continued, much to the officer's dismay.

But then, a noise. He didn't know what it was, but any change had to have been something positive in this present time. It had come from behind their current position, from where he had been pushed into this room a short time ago. Glancing over the monster's right shoulder, the STARS agent saw that someone from outside the entryway, most likely Wesker himself, had thrown him a handgun through the bars. The RPD official couldn't tell if it was the same weapon that had been stolen from him earlier, as the closed doorway was at least fifteen steps away and mostly enveloped in shadows. 

It didn't matter why his tormentor had thrown him a chance to fight back after taking it away. Maybe Wesker was bored, or he wanted the STARS weapons expert to be alive for the sake of being tormented further. Either way, it was his path to escape the current danger, which was this fast-moving zombie with the clawed hands and feet, as opposed to the long-term one, which was the pseudo-captain.

The uniformed human had to separate himself from this monster and put enough distance between them both so he could reach for and then use the weapon that was hopefully loaded. Reacting at the same time as he got the idea, he used his right boot to deliver as strong a kick as possible towards the creature's left kneecap, forcing the zombie to stagger backwards if not in pain, then at least in a loss of balance. Taking advantage of his opponent's momentary confusion, Burton bolted away from it and towards the handgun on the floor.

He could hear the monster's quick footsteps gathering speed behind him, but he didn't turn around due to the risk of slowing down if he did. He then finally reached the area in front of the bars, bending his knees as he rushed past it and scooped up the dusty weapon. The bulky man stood back at his full height, instinctively undoing the safety of the handgun while turning around to face his pursuer, all at the same time that he realized he had been handed a 9mm Glock semi-automatic. The fast-paced zombie was about five yards away and closing in fast when his prey breathed his first sigh of relief at having aimed the firearm towards its torso.

Agent Burton pulled the trigger with a passion, watching one golden burst after another shooting out of the muzzle and slamming into the monster's chest and stomach. The aggressive zombie threw its arms up into the air as blood appeared to explode out of its upper body, cracking its red skin in eight different areas, and it moaned loudly as it staggered further ahead. Its left arm still reached where the officer was standing, swinging its aim for the human's head, though more clumsily this time. Burton dove to his own left, rolling on the floor as he did and rising back up on one knee three yards away from the monster.

Knowing he had used eight rounds and, if the Glock pistol was fully loaded, he'd have twelve more, the RPD officer aimed slightly upwards from his kneeling position and hoped to shoot the creature in the head. Three more shots flew out of the pistol, one entering its throat, the second hitting it in the chin and blowing the lower third of its grotesque face off, and the third only scraping past its right ear. To the human's disappointment, though, the atrocity still refused to die, bleeding profusely from its neck and head, but still managing to slowly stagger in his general direction, its arms always poised to attack and eviscerate. But this time, it was so wounded that all it managed to do was walk towards Burton at the same pace that a regular zombie would, thus giving its human target plenty of time to stand back up to his full height and take his time with the handgun's aiming mechanism.

With the monster's outstretched arms still over a yard away from his body,

Burton pulled the trigger three more times. He guessed that he could safely finish off his opponent for certain, and still allow the extra six rounds of ammunition to remain in the weapon for future confrontations. Two 9mm bullets ripped their way into the zombie's face, decimating whatever features it used to have, before the third one destroyed its forehead, thus forcing it to collapse upon itself like a house of cards.

Almost on cue, the bars that were keeping him locked inside this chamber rose back into the wall from where they had emerged. So keeping his right grip on the handle of the Glock, the RPD official shakily walked towards the open doorway, his body still full of the adrenaline that had been flooding it for the last two minutes. Once past the sole entryway, he spotted captain Wesker leaning casually against the wall next to it, the shaded man with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his Desert Eagle handgun still in its belt holster. Seeing his superior's calm demeanour, Burton felt a wave of fresh rage overcoming him, asking himself where this man got off feeling so relaxed for the second time tonight.

"Very good job, Barry", the STARS captain grinned, "Only thing better would've been if I had a chair and a glass of scotch. Also, _if_ you wish it back, your Python is resting on that wall next to you".

Looking down by his feet, Burton noticed that his confiscated weapon was indeed on the floor, a few feet in front of the raised bars.

"What the HELL was the meaning of that, Wesker?!", the lower-ranking officer barked back at him, "Are you _trying_ to see how many ways you can get us all killed?!". 

"Actually, your lives, to me, are completely inconsequential", the Umbrella operative lied with more control over his own voice, "Whether you live or die, it does not matter, as long as I get my combat data. You can all walk out of here in pristine condition or in body bags".

Burton wasn't sure if it was the traitor's callous indifference towards the lives of everyone he'd come across as of late, or even the restful pose he seemed to adopt while he himself was fighting against a beast, but he felt his anger reaching a boiling point. Without even thinking about the long-term consequences of his actions, he began raising the 9mm Glock towards his adversary, intending to shoot him on the spot and then asking for his friends' help in saving his family. But even before he could finish the simple task of lifting his right arm at a horizontal level to the floor, he found himself staring down the barrel of Wesker's Desert Eagle.

"Please, Barry", the captain's grin had vanished from behind the handgun he was already aiming at Burton's face, even though he had to withdraw it first, "You never _could_ get the draw on me. I wouldn't advise starting to show a backbone now".

Burton's eyes widened as he realized that, despite his vast experience with firearms, the captain was still twice as good as he was now. Whatever else he may have been, Wesker was very sharp. So the STARS footsoldier dropped his right arm back by his side, aiming the Glock back towards the floor.

"Either retrieve your gun or not, but I _will_ have more tasks for you in the near future", the man in the sunglasses went on, holstering his own weapon back, "But for now, here's your reward".

Reaching into one of his uniform pockets, Wesker retrieved a five-inch wide octagonal disk and tossed it towards Burton's torso, who caught it with his left hand. Looking down at it, Burton saw that the outer edge of the object was stone while the main part of it was metal. The red and white Umbrella logo was in the middle of it, surrounding some family crest that he didn't recognize.

"I'm sure, in due time, you'll find this very useful", was all the captain uttered as he turned around and walked back up the stairs that led to the surface, "Do try to get some enjoyment from this playground before I summon you back, though".

Burton only stood in place, watching him leave and not wanting to climb the steps at the same time, though he knew he needed to leave soon. After all, he wasn't about to trust that Wesker wouldn't just lock him in the staircase by closing the mausoleum. Plus, agents Redfield and Valentine still needed to be found. He just wished he could bring it upon himself to use either the Glock or the Colt Python to shoot the man in the shades in the back. 


	20. Chapter 20a Taking down the big boys

Firstly I wanted to thank the following people …

Hello Captain (go read Claudia!) Lizzy most definitely (love you and bump girlie!) Jason L, Aphotic Atrocities Inc, Jheti (we wanna see more smut!), Tenma, enraged (you are lovely), Nemesia and Fenice (wesker fans yay!), Blue jackal (when he takes over the world I get Wesker :D), Shikhee, Brooksie Fringe, Jcarleton, lyrix of azn ethix and Iain for your support. It is very much appreciated. And thanks for taking the time to leave me something.

Secondly from now on, due to me getting pestered lol am gonna make the chapters in smaller parts. So they'll be from now on each chapter might be in 2 or 3 separate parts. That way if you wanna read a little can do that or can read the whole lot depending on what you want. Figure it be's easier since ok some of my chapters are just a TAD long :) Anyways on with Chapter 20. Hope you enjoy!  

Agent Valentine found herself having to return to her point of origin, that being the balcony where she had to separate from agent Redfield only twenty minutes earlier. She had to check her watch to confirm that it truly was just over quarter of an hour since she had last seen her impromptu partner before he disappeared through the door he had kicked through. From her own side, Valentine had intentionally kept the second door open after stepping through it and before making her way into the short, well-lit hallway. Unfortunately, from then on, she had spent what felt like forever going through this incredibly annoying maze-like structure. The female officer had walked around long enough to realize that she had no idea where the source of the explosion was and, hearing nothing new that followed that initial blast and without running into any other people, she had decided that she had put up with enough of the fear-inducing silence. Thus, the STARS officer had turned around and backtracked towards the balcony, wondering if Redfield had better luck as well as hoping to find him so as to return to the previous state of having trusted company.

Upon walking through the open doorway and seeing the empty balcony there, she felt glad that the door itself hadn't been closed or locked, thus indicating that any being with the capacity for intellectual thought who resided in this creepy death-trap hadn't been there after her. At the same time, though, the fact that the balcony was as empty and silent as the rest of the area she had quickly surveyed indicated that agent Redfield wasn't there and waiting for her either. So agent Valentine breathed in and out, doing so with the intent to hear something besides her boots constantly tapping on the wooden floor. With the loaded Beretta pistol gripped with both hands and pointing towards the floor at her midsection, she quickly walked around the balcony and towards the broken door that was further away from her current position.

She approached the side of the damaged doorway until it was within a yard from her and then twisted her body so she was facing the entrance with the handgun aimed at arms' length in front of her face. She didn't relax from her ready position even though only a still corridor greeted her eyes, which still rested behind the muzzle of the firearm. But following her partner's trail through the broken entrance, the Alpha agent at least opted to carry the Beretta pistol in her right hand only, leaving that arm still levelled parallel to the floor from her shoulder while allowing some freedom for the left arm to dangle by her side. 

Once inside the small, indoor walkway, the police officer performed a quick visual sweep of her surroundings even as she placed her back against the wall that was next to the broken door. That way, she could at least be certain that nothing and no one would try to sneak up on her from behind while she decided which path to follow. To her left was another short hallway that led to a closed wooden door, while in front of her was a longer corridor that was divided by a waist-high banister and led to an interjecting staircase that led down. At least Redfield's body or unknown bloodstains couldn't be found, she thought to herself with a sigh, still having a hard time coming to grips with the idea that she was in a place where the lack of a corpse was supposed to be good news. But regardless, the cool feeling of the metal that made up the even weight of the Beretta was still making the situation just a bit more bearable for her as she lowered her right arm in front of her midsection due to the lack of monsters to destroy at the moment. Of course, nothing would make these circumstances better than leaving this house and returning with dozens of STARS and SWAT teams, during daylight, to arrest whichever humans had invoked the monstrosities, as the captain had planned. And then spending the next several weeks at a picnic with her Alpha and Bravo colleagues as they strung those same culprits up by the ankles before using them for target practice would be nice.

Then again, so would winning the state lottery tomorrow, Valentine thought dryly, warning herself to not jump ahead towards the long run when the short run offered several threats that could result in tomorrow never arriving. So first things first, which meant finding everyone who was still alive, then protecting them till they found a way out of whatever this place was, and then worrying about everything else.

Telling herself that the door was closer and didn't look particularly sturdy, the STARS agent made her way towards it, examining the area behind her and down the longer hallway before she inspected the wooden surface. There were no fancy engravings or other such nonsense carved into this one, and Valentine saw that it was controlled by a simple latch that was supposed to attach it to the edge of the entryway. Had it been used, it would've locked the door from her side of it, thus keeping someone who was on the other side of the doorway there. But it wasn't utilised at this moment as the latch was stuck in a vertical position on the middle edge of the surface of the door itself, thus leaving it unlocked. So holding her breath, agent Valentine pulled the almost decrepit door open by a few inches, peeking through the opening.

She was surprised to find that it led outside, as an external pathway that was flanked on both sides by old walls that hadn't been maintained was found straight ahead for about twenty yards before it ended and the edge of the forest began. This much was evident as the entire area beyond that walkway was made up of dark trees that had commenced from the floor below hers and were obviously taller than the second floor she was now in. There was also a source of artificial light that emanated from some place, but she couldn't quite gather from where, as glad as she was that the moonlight wasn't the only source of illumination. Asking herself why there'd be an outdoor hallway that seemed to go nowhere in particular except towards massive branches and dark leaves that covered them, the STARS agent pushed the door further open and stepped through it, again leaving it open behind her. It was only then that she caught sight of what appeared to be a wooden box that rested at the end of the twenty yard-long walkway, conveniently placed against the wall so as to not have it disturb anyone who may have been making his or her way through this area.

"What the hell's so important about out here?", she thought out loud as she took her first step out of the open doorway, seeing with more clarity as she spotted a left-hand corridor that intersected this current path about ten yards away, leading somewhere that could not be seen.

Valentine bent her right arm at the elbow, bringing that hand and the firearm it carried within a few inches from her face as the Beretta ended up being aimed towards the dark sky.

"Chris! _Chris!_ You out here?", she hissed in a loud whisper as she continued walking towards the fork in the road, all the while keeping her eyes on it as well as the end of her current path, just in case agent Redfield wasn't outside but something else heard her voice instead.

The only sounds that responded were the ones of her boots on the concrete floor while leaves rustled both on the trees as well as on the floor itself due to the moderate wind that she could feel on her face. So the officer pressed herself against the left-side wall of the current path as she approached the passage which led in that direction. Once next to the T-junction, she crouched down and swung her face and right arm around the left corner, almost feeling disappointed that she saw nothing to fire against because her body had been uncomfortably tense due to anticipating a battle. 

Sighing, Valentine stood back up to her full height and stepped away from the corner wall, seeing that this second pathway was a lot like the first, except that it only had a wall on the left side of it which carried a stained glass picture of a witch in black. Its right side, on the other hand, had the wall missing and was instead lined with the more trees that emerged from the ground below. Past that, the only female agent in Alpha team couldn't see what may be found, as the source of artificial light ended a few yards beyond her current position.

Reasoning that agent Redfield or any other friendly humans weren't going to be sitting in the dark without making any noise, Valentine decided to not venture into the darkness and rather turned back around, acting more calm than she felt as she returned to the original passageway. Once there, she had a choice of returning back to the open door on her right or continuing down the first walkway to her left where the hall ended with the line of trees behind the wooden box that was on the floor. Her curiosity got the better of her and considering that she only had a few seconds to lose, she decided to at least take a look at the contents of the box. She might've even gotten lucky and found something useful in it, but she wouldn't know for sure till she checked it out. Thus, agent Valentine made her way towards the wooden container. 

Upon reaching it, she looked down towards the inside the box as the top cover was missing, and her facial expression gave away how she felt as she saw three green plants that were growing within the makeshift flowerbox. The greenery was flourishing, thus indicating that it had been watered on a regular basis until recently. Was it because this plant had some special value to it, as it seemed that everything in this place was done for a reason, albeit a very twisted one, or was it simply there because of it aesthetic value?

Agent Valentine did not know the answer to her own question, but she soon looked away from the small wooden crate and kept her attention on the line of trees that were approximately three yards away because she heard new rustling that emanated from one of the trees in particular. Unlike the noise made by the leaves and the wind, though, this one sounded much more intense, and more deliberate, causing the officer to instinctively take a step back and away from them even though the firearm remained next to her head and pointed towards the sky.

Her eyes widened and she stepped back even further when she caught a glimpse of at least one shadowy figure that was climbing the tree from the ground level. She didn't know what creatures were roaming around this forest that could pull such feats, but chances are that they wouldn't be friendly.

"What the hell now?", she asked herself as she continued walking backwards, aiming the handgun at arm's length in front of her chest towards the source of the danger, "Mutant monkeys or something?".

She was about halfway towards the open door that waited behind her when the answer to her question made its debut. Two large, mutated dogs, much like the ones that had killed agent Frost, leapt out of the middle of the tree, landing gracefully on the pavement that was next to the wooden crate. Both canines growled as they spotted her, the STARS officer making a quick mental note to herself that the first dog was even bigger than the average ones whose shoulders were normally up to a man's waistline. She noticed that the bigger canine also wore a thick leather collar that was fastened by a metallic buckle at the front around its neck, but that's all she had time to see because both animals then ran straight for her.

"You guys climb _trees_ now??", she blurted out loud while already turning around and sprinting towards the door.

The four sets of thunderous footsteps that were rushing behind her were still several yards away when Valentine reached the door itself, dashing through it as quickly as her legs could carry her due to her desire to not find out how far those beasts could jump when diving for their prey. Gripping the doorknob with her left hand and simultaneously turning around to close it, she gasped involuntarily when seeing that the larger predator was almost at the entryway also. 

Time seemed to be standing still as agent Valentine pushed the door closed, putting her entire weight behind it to try to keep it in the shut position before the latch could be used to lock it in place. Unfortunately, the killer carnivore had the time to begin pushing into the entryway before the door was secured shut, so it ended up shoving its barking head through, so the side of the door was only pushed against its neck. The officer grunted in frustration as the dog barked louder, drooling saliva out of two corners of its mouth while angrily demanding to be allowed into the mansion. From her end, Valentine kept her left hand on the doorknob as she continued throwing her upper arm against the surface of the door, not even hearing the gasps she made while exerting energy. 

Neither human nor canine looked at each other during the several moments of impasse as one tried to push the door closed and the other attempted to come inside. But it was after many long seconds that the terrified STARS agent finally realized that, while she couldn't possibly shut the door due to the physical obstacle that the dog's neck presented, her pursuer was also unable to come inside. So officer Valentine decided to end this standstill as she continued gripping the doorknob and then placed the outer edge of her right foot against the base of the door, thus ensuring that the gap which had the dog's head protruding through it couldn't get any bigger. 

From that position, Valentine looked down at her opponent's enraged head as she lowered her right arm, bringing the muzzle of the Beretta pistol until it was pressed against the top of its skull. She noticed that the tip of the weapon actually sank half an inch into its flesh because the animal's skin and muscles were so badly rotten, but that meant nothing at the moment because she pulled the trigger once. A muffled burst followed as dark blood exploded from the bottom of the canine's head and stained the floor before the animal dropped dead on the spot. Gasping again, but this time in relief, the officer breathed hard as she could still hear the outraged howling of the second, smaller dog who was still just outside the door. With her left hand on the doorknob and her right foot still keeping the gap at the side of the door from getting any wider, the human peeked through the opening. She spotted the canine trying to unsuccessfully climb over the body of its fellow pack member, but always failing because of its inability to remain on its feet while on top of the first dog's slippery remains. Without hesitating, Valentine placed her right hand through the gap at the doorway, keeping it higher that she thought the second dog could jump, and aimed the Beretta downward in its direction.

Four pulls of the trigger finally ceased all movement on the part of the second dog. It was only then that the STARS agent could allow the door to open wide, the smell of lead strong in her nose as she examined the two lifeless canines that rested in a pool of their own blood. Valentine hadn't calmed down yet, as she could still hear the beating of her own heart, but she ignored it as she squatted next to the body of the first predator, curious to see why this one had a collar while none of the previous ones did. Temporarily holstering the weapon, Valentine grimaced as she used her hands to reach for the collar, trying to not be disgusted at the putrid flesh and blood that stained her fingers.

It only took her a few seconds to pry the leather collar loose, though she believed it was a few seconds too long as she stood back up and leaned her back against the wall next to the door. First thing she had to do was wipe both her hands on her hips, preferring to have the gory bits of dead tissue staining her clothes rather than her skin. It was only after her hands were relatively clean that she paid attention to the object that was retrieved from the ferocious animal. The collar itself looked normal enough, but it begged the question in her mind that asked why the creeps who trained such animals for the role of having them guard or kill would then give one of them a collar. She guessed that maybe it was used to keep something small and important inside the front of it, as the metal bit did seem to be large enough to hold an item. So while her heart rate finally slowed to a more normal pace, Valentine examined the front part, seeing that the metal bit had a miniature latch on its surface. Lifting it, she was proven correct when the latch rose to reveal a hollow interior that contained an octagonal coin that was about 1.5 inches in diameter.

"What's the importance of this, I wonder?", the female agent thought out loud as she held the eight-sided disk between her right thumb and index finger while letting the collar drop to the floor by her feet.

She could see that the symbol of armour was on it, which obviously had a connection to all those doors, both locked and unlocked, that carried the same image on their surface. But she then reasoned that a coin surely couldn't be used as a key. So why had the insane residents of this evil place gone out of their way to hide it in a dog's collar?

But then Valentine frowned, her eyes noticing a discolouration at the edge of the coin, one that was only about three millimetres thick. It wasn't that the metallic fabric of the coin was rusted, but rather that a tiny segment of it was made of a completely different material. Reasoning that she should investigate this aspect if she wanted to try to make any sense of the secretive nature of the coin, the Alpha team member first rubbed the foreign material with the tip of her index fingernail and then pushed it into the disk itself.

Feeling rewarded for solving the puzzle, Valentine felt a smile appearing on her face as she watched the supposed coin expand and get bigger since a metal cylinder emerged from its edge. The protrusion was about 1/4th of an inch thick and ended up being about two inches long before it stopped and a second, thinner cylinder rose out of it, this one also being approximately two inches long. Once the second protrusion stopped emerging, the human next saw two metal teeth that came out of its side, each of them being 1/4th of an inch long and only about two millimetres thick. The object she was holding had gone from being a coin to now being a key within a matter of an instant.

"I'd hope this puts us one step closer to finding out what the _fuck's_ going on here", Valentine sighed as she placed the makeshift key within one of her uniform pockets and then withdrew the Beretta pistol from its belt holster.

It felt strange having to go even a few minutes without the 9mm weapon in her hand, so the familiar weapon was now back in her right grip, where she thought it belonged. She was still trying to remember how many rounds she had used and, as a result, how many she had left within the weapon when she suddenly thought that she wanted to find a bathroom as she couldn't recall the last time she had used the ladies' room back at the RPD.

But regardless of how long it had been, she had to find a new restroom soon if she didn't want to have an accident which would be very embarrassing to explain.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

"She's not here!", agent Redfield complained to himself as he visually combed the entire balcony, his current partner not needing much time to guess that he was talking about agent Valentine, yet again.

The Bravo team medic wasn't annoyed at the older man's behaviour, especially not when he was obviously on the right side of the law, as opposed to being someone who created a virus which could turn ordinary humans and dogs into the cannibals they were fighting. Still, though, agent Chambers couldn't help but wonder why Redfield appeared to be obsessed about this one other person from Alpha team when he didn't mention anyone else by name.

She was trying to think of something to say that could perhaps make the young man feel better, even as she watched him lean over the balcony guardrail before he looked at the dining room below, most likely to see if he could spot anyone there too. Not finding any sort of movement from the first floor, a frustrated agent Redfield stood back up to his full height, now staring away towards the open door that was on the other side of this area.

"I told her to come back here if there was trouble", the Alpha officer finally addressed her, seeming much more comfortable with the pistol that rested in his right grip and swayed every time he moved that hand, as opposed to her, who was still on edge and kept stressing about keeping her own weapon aimed at the floor, "But she's _not_. Wadda you think we should do? Go after her or wait for her to come back? I mean, this damn place is HUGE, like a maze, and if we leave, she may be coming back here and looking for us when we're off god knows where".

He was asking for her advice, so it was her chance to help him relax, at last. If only she had a good recommendation to make.

"Well, Chris...", Chambers approached him while clearing her throat, still unable to release the Beretta from the tense, two-handed grip she was always using to point it downward, "We can either stay here or go after Jill, two options aren't many, and it seems that they both have their shortcomings. But if she needs our help, she most likely won't be able to come here to say so. In which case, well, maybe we should go try to find her. But if she's OK and coming back here on her own, then we may even run into her en route. So that's why I think the option of us going after her would make more sense".

Redfield looked down at her face, saying nothing while their eyes locked for a few seconds as she could tell he was considering what she just said.

"Sounds good", he blurted out before he turned away and began marching towards the open door, prompting her to follow, which she did with a light jog until she caught up to him and then slowed down to a walk once she was next to his position.

"Now, whatever happens, stay with me, Becca, OK?", the more experienced officer suggested as they neared the door that would be their exit out of this balcony, "If we come across a new room, let _me_ go in first and you can be the eyes at the back of my head, _if_ that's OK".

"Oh, of course", Chambers grinned as she shook her head, admiring the dedication that this individual had shown in the few minutes she had known him.

He even wanted to go into a dangerous situation before her, and all because, she suspected, he knew of her extreme lack of combat experience. How could she possibly have a problem with him after that?

----------------------------

It was a short sprint from the outskirt of the balcony till agents Redfield and Chambers reached a spot that overlooked an area which the older officer remembered to be the lobby of the mansion, though he didn't know if his younger colleague recognized the place or not. Regardless, he didn't bother asking since he and Chambers were busy looking over the vast expanse, both of them wishing it had been lit better than it actually was. There were just too many shadowy areas that would make the average person be uncomfortable, even if it wasn't for the presence of creatures that, so far, were defying the laws of biology.

Both STARS agents entered the lobby via the left-hand staircase that led down towards the mezzanine that was just below the second floor but above the first one. From there, they could see a door that led directly to their left, a staircase that led straight down to the first floor and another staircase that led back up towards the right-hand side of the second floor, taking them to another set of closed doors there. Chambers stood guard when she saw the older man making his way towards the door that was to their left. She was looking over the large area for any signs of movements as Redfield turned the doorknob for that entryway. She wasn't sure if she planned to notify her partner verbally if she saw any monsters making their appearance, or maybe the young man would've preferred if she let him know of any hostile presences by shooting them first. Either way, she didn't have to decide on the spot because she next heard and saw the Alpha officer walking back towards her position, apparently finding the door locked. 

"Jill couldn't have gone through there", Redfield talked to himself, "Not if it's locked with a key that she didn't have".

Still not sure if agent Valentine was his colleague's girlfriend or if he was merely obsessing about his previous partner because he was scared at the current situation, agent Chambers did her best to push the thought aside. Now wasn't the time for her to ask him, even if it may have helped him feel better, since there was also a chance that it may not, thus only worsening his state of mind due to the mortality rate of humans who were left alone in this gigantic house.

"It looks like we also might have just another couple of those doors over there, Chris", the younger woman changed the subject in her mind as she let go of her weapon with the left hand long enough to use that index finger to point towards the two closed doors that were on the other side of the second floor, past the staircase leading up from the mezzanine, "I don't know for sure how many the _first_ floor has, I kinda only ran away from those monsters, but we could check out the two doors up there and, if they're closed like that one, then we could go investigate the first floor?".

It was all the time she spent gripping the Beretta single-handedly, opting to return her left fingers around the now-warm metal handle as soon as she was finished pointing at the area she wished.

"Good idea", was all Redfield uttered as he patted her on the shoulder before climbing the stairs two at a time, making sure to keep a track of her footsteps that followed a pair of yards after him.

The first door after the ascending staircase was tried in its own turn, the Alpha officer sighing in exasperation when he noticed that this one was also locked.

"COME ON!", Redfield exclaimed as he angrily slammed his open left palm on the wooden surface of that doorway, "What the HELL do you have to do to find an open place around here?!?".

"Chris, Chris! It's... gonna be OK", Chambers placed her left palm on his upper arm in as soothing a fashion as she could manage, temporarily forgetting about the handgun that hung from her right grip in a limp fashion, "It _is­_ OK because, well, think about it. If the door is locked, that means we can really assume that there was no way that she could have gone that way, right?".

"Oh, right, yeah", her words seemed to calm him down, and she was glad for it, as she watched her comrade wiping the sweat off his forehead with his left sleeve.

Chambers involuntarily thought of Billy Cohen as she was looking up into the young man's face, remembering how she and the military fugitive had spent several hours together and she never once had to try to make him feel better. She didn't know why, but she noticed that she preferred to have someone whose mood she could improve, as opposed to Cohen, who was in such strong control of his emotions that he had been her own crutch throughout the entire ordeal without ever appearing to need help.

"I just hate this fucking place", Redfield finally spoke up again, not bringing her out of her revelry while he quickly made his way towards the second door there that was about fifteen steps away from the first.

He slowed down when he noticed that she wasn't following him, which prompted her to stop daydreaming about Cohen, wondering where he was now and how he was doing, and instead began jogging after him, chastising herself for releasing her left-hand grip on the weapon.

"I'm sorry, Becca", the Alpha agent uttered as he neared the last door on the second floor, "Didn't mean to yell. Just...".

He twisted the doorknob and felt it opening, forcing him to quiet down from the normal tone of voice he was using.

"It's OK, Chris", Chambers whispered back as she approached him while he stood next to the gap, peering through it to try to see what lay on the other side, "Not really a big fan of this funhouse either, believe me. And you hardly need to apologize considering what went on earlier".

"Thanks", Redfield spoke without looking behind him as proceeded through the doorway, "Just be ready to help me kick ass, OK?".

"You got it", the younger woman snickered as she stepped into the entrance also and then closed the door behind her.

She stopped in place as she looked over her new environment, just as Redfield was doing, since both agents had come into a new, even darker outdoors hallway that started from their current position and led left. The entire space from their right to the space in front of them contained large windows, each with vertical metal bars going through them, that overlooked the pitch-black forest outside. It took several seconds of surveying these surroundings before both officers calmly walked in the only direction they could, both weapons pointed towards the floor at their feet. They soon came upon a right turn that led them to a round glass table that was about five feet in diameter as it rested underneath the only source of light that shone a dark gold illumination over the area directly beneath it.

Redfield was the first to notice something that remained on top of the surface of the table, so he carefully approached it before placing his left fingertips over the item, slightly gasping as he recognized the pleasant surprise. The young man took a hold of the item and turned in Chambers' direction, happily showing her the Beretta clip that was full of 9mm bullets.

"Someone here likes us, Becca", Redfield smiled while looking down at her face.

"Probably left here by one of ours, maybe by Jill?", the younger woman accepted the extra ammunition as he was obviously offering it for her small arsenal.

"I'd bet money on it", the Alpha agent turned his attention back to the area ahead of them, "Which means that one of us _may_ be somewhere here".

"Then what are we waiting for?", the Bravo medic asked the question that didn't need a reply as they turned another right corner and spotted that this continuing maze led them down the outside corridor for another thirty steps before turning left. 

"Here's hoping there's about to be three of us", Redfield commented to himself as the duo proceeded down the stone path. 

They were both halfway through the hallway when he casually looked back to see how far away from him the younger colleague was. The fact that she still remained within an arm's reach of him wasn't a surprise, but her outfit was something that he finally decided needed to be commented on, as he was beginning to feel a bit better about his chances of finding more of his comrades alive.

"Becca, if you don't mind me asking, why is the vest still on?", Redfield asked as he returned his attention at the area ahead of him.

"You mean my body armour?", she tried to clarify, wanting to make sure he was talking about the white kevlar vest that tightly hugged her torso over her STARS shirt.

"Mmhmm", he merely nodded, "You'll not need it when dealing with _these_ freaks. They're too stupid to carry guns. And this entire place seems deserted except for them freaks".

"Yeah, I suppose", she agreed while they were nearing the left turn, bringing her left hand to undo one of the velcro straps that kept the bulletproof vest in place, "I wouldn't mind being able to breathe easier, either".

Chambers undid the first strap, breathing a sigh of relief, and then loosened the second one, finally separating the kevlar vest into two equal pieces at the front and back of the upper body. She then carefully lifted the slightly flexible armour over her own head, a task that was more difficult than it looked, considering she only had one hand to work with.

"You think STARS command would have a problem if I dumped this somewh...", she was beginning to ask her more experienced colleague as Redfield first reached the left-hand turn and walked around the corner.

"Forest??", was the only word that came out of the young man's mouth as he was clearly not listening to her, his attention fixated on an area beyond the left turn that Chambers couldn't see as she reached his area.

"What is it, Chris? What's... ", the young woman managed to ask before she spotted Redfield running away from her and towards the spot he was obsessively staring at.

"_Forest?!_", the panic in his voice told her all she needed to know, though, so the Bravo medic dropped the kevlar vest on the ground and bolted after him, both her hands gripping the handle of the Beretta and readying herself to start firing in case Redfield had seen someone he recognized as that person was being attacked by monsters.

She arrived to a dead stop after several seconds of running, screeching to a halt as she heard her footsteps on the stone below since she came upon Redfield from behind as he was slightly bent over and intently examining something. Walking around her comrade, Chambers' eyes widened as she involuntarily gasped at the sight of agent Speyer as the slightly older man was hunched over on a metallic chair, his entire body bloodied from top to bottom. Dozens of holes were all over his shirt and trousers, with red stains underneath them, indicating the male Bravo officer had undergone a great physical trauma before being found. Both his eyes were missing from the sockets, dark holes drilled into what had previously been a handsome face. His flesh had also taken on the consistency of wax and was peeling around the areas of the scores of tiny cuts upon his person.

"Agent Speyer...", Chambers whispered to herself, "Is he...?".

"No... NO!", Redfield raised his voice as he kept his right index and middle fingers against the side of Speyer's neck.

Redfield switched from the man's neck to the left side of his chest, where the heart would be, and placed his right palm over that part of agent Speyer's torso. His lack of response confirmed the suspicion that Chambers had, which was that the Bravo's vehicle specialist was dead.

"He's not breathing, and there's no heartbeat", the Alpha agent eagerly stood back up to his full height and turned around so as to address the younger woman, "Help me lie him down. We'll do CPR. You take the heart and I'll give him mouth to...".

"Chris...", Chambers tried to interrupt, though the tone of her voice was much lighter than his.

"...mouth. You're probably much better at it", Redfield kept continuing his speech as if he hadn't heard her, "But I've done this before, so just help me get him vert...".

"C..Chris!", she repeated again, this time louder and by putting her left hand on his right upper arm, actually getting him to stop.

Redfield quieted down, his eyes silently telling her that he wasn't in the mood to hear what he knew she would say. So Chambers went out of her way to prove her point of view. She reached over and touched agent Speyer's face, and only then returned her attention towards the Alpha team agent.

"He's been dead for several hours, Chris", the Bravo medic sadly added, "There's no bringing him back".

The older man still wasn't saying anything, and that didn't help the sorrowful state she was already in.

"I'm sorry", she tried hard to not cry for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, so she reached forth and placed her arms around the taller man's torso in an impromptu hug even before she had time to consider her actions.

She felt a little better at the sensation of his own arms that came to rest at her lower back, even as he continued breathing hard on his own, thus indicating that the affectionate effort on her part probably wasn't working.

"As far out there as this is most likely gonna sound, it looks like... Well, it looks like he's been killed by crows", she added, her face still pressed against the front of his body, "He definitely hasn't been shot, and I doubt those are all miniature stab wounds on his body, not with the way those bits of skin were torn off him".

She sighed, wishing the Alpha agent would at least say something, even if he commented that her attempt to play counsellor was useless. Instead, Redfield kept his mouth shut, most likely still clenched together in anger, as he continued embracing her back.

"But why were poor Forest's eyes missing?", she continued after several moments of uncomfortable silence, her arms still wrapped around him.

She suspected she already knew the answer, but anything to get him to talk again. The lack of noise was stressful.

"They're rooks", the young man finally uttered, strengthening the hold he had on her lower back by a tiny bit.

"What, Chris?", Chambers mentioned with the smallest grin on her face, glad that she got him to talk, and even despite their current circumstances, somewhat amused that they'd been hugging for almost a minute straight now.

"One bird couldn't have done this", the taller officer explained, his face always looking past the back of her shoulder, "There's black feathers everywhere, and they've taken his eyes, since that's the first thing they'd eat. But crows never hang out in groups, so it must've been a group of rooks instead".

"Oh...", was her only reply, feeling better since his tone of voice was more collected as he explained, "Surprised you know all this".

Anything to keep him talking, especially in his current demeanour. The more he did so, the less likely he was to become enraged or frightened, at least so she thought.

"Just from watching more nature documentaries than I can count when everyone else was busy going out on dates, I suppose", Redfield went on as he inhaled and exhaled in a loud fashion, "So I know that it's one kind of animal and not another that's killing my friends. Not that it's of any goddamn use in here".

It was only when he had finished making his last statement that he heard an all too familiar sound in this mansion, that being the noise made by a moaning zombie as it emerged from the shadows about fifteen steps further away from agent Speyer's inanimate position. Both STARS agents turned their face towards the new threat, but Redfield withdrew from the embrace first, separating his arms from his younger partner's lower back as he shifted his entire body towards the approaching monster.

"And those FUCKS are the ones responsible for this!", the Alpha member barked, indicating to Chambers that the illusion of his calm demeanour was unfortunately false.

The young man angrily marched towards the zombie, the Beretta aimed towards the floor via his right grip.

"This isn't a good... ", agent Chambers began while jogging after him, dreading to think why her partner was opting to accost his adversary rather than safely shooting it from several yards away.

He ignored her, choosing instead to approach the drooling, moaning creature as it slowly reached towards him with its two withered arms. While still making his way towards it, the young man lifted his right arm horizontally to the floor, aiming the handgun towards the zombie's chest before he quickly pulled the trigger three times. The monster's body jerked with every bullet that punctured it, but it then regained its composure and continued strolling towards the human in its effort to meet him halfway. From behind Redfield's position, agent Chambers didn't need long to see that her partner was intentionally not delivering a fatal blow when he clearly could do so from such a short distance away, which only confirmed her fears about his intentions.

True enough to her expectations, once within a few inches of the monster's fingers, the young man bent his right arm and delivered a right hook punch to the left side of its head. The flat side of the Beretta pistol met the zombie's cranium with a slimy ~POP~ before the creature toppled on its right side, falling flat towards the floor and then lying there on its stomach. 

It looked up in the direction of the young man, moaning one more time almost as if asking what it had done to be treated in such a rough manner. That's all it got to do before Chambers saw that her partner lifted one large boot and then brought it down on the creature's head, slamming the zombie's face against the hard floor.

By the time the Bravo medic reached the spot where agent Redfield was mercilessly beating his opponent, she saw him forcing the sole of his foot down on its head at least three more times. Chambers got around to aiming her own 9mm weapon at the downed zombie, just in case the monster had succeeded in overcoming its attacker. But her worries soon proved to be unnecessary because the young man then screamed out another series of expletives, all of them aimed towards the pathetic specimen on the floor and all of its kind, before violently stepping on its head one last time, finally crushing the monster's head against the stone below.

The young woman resisted the urge to throw up as a strangely more placid agent Redfield turned his attention back to her, appearing completely unaffected at the sight of the headless zombie which lay by his feet. A cool breeze unexpectedly blew through the dark, outdoor corridor they were in, making both agents stand in place as they enjoyed the momentary relief.

"You... feeling better?", the medic spoke first after several seconds of less uncomfortable silence.

"A bit", her partner admitted, "Endorphins and all. The gift that keeps on giving".

"Ah", she nodded her head, visually looking him over from head to toe, ignoring the boots he wore that were now covered in blood and brain matter, satisfied that his aggression had provided him with the stress relief that her affection could not, "So... I don't suppose we can go home just yet".

A laugh followed from Redfield, encouraging her to smile yet again, even though she remembered wanting to cry not too long ago. 

What a crazy night, Chambers thought to herself only.

"Soon, Becca, I promise", the young man placed his left hand on her shoulder, "But for now, we should go back and gather any weapons that Forest had on him. I saw at least a pair of grenades still attached to his clothes. Considering how many friends I'm losing here, I plan to use every piece of weaponry hardware to protect the friends I got left".

He squeezed her shoulder tighter as he finished making the last statement, suddenly forcing the STARS medic to wonder why this guy said he was unable to get as many dates as he wanted earlier in his life. Regardless, Chambers shook her head, mentally chastising herself for acting like a teenager who was still in high school, when her surroundings were anything but a controlled environment for students. The fact that she was only 18 years old didn't matter, as this mansion was built like the front lines of a war, with her side and the enemy's side losing fighters all the time, so she had better stop acting like she was planning to go to some stupid prom. And she realized she was gushing, which was another reason Chambers rubbed her open left palm across her face as she looked down, as far and as casually away from her colleague's face as she could, all the more to get her to pay attention on the important topics like she should. As the STARS medic, it was her job to safeguard the health of everyone who was on her side of the team, whether she felt she was ready or not. So, in that respect, she noticed some items on the floor that were resting against the base of the corridor wall, which grabbed her attention.

"That's definitely a good idea, Chris", she replied, happy with her amount of professionalism her voice carried, "You can do that while I take a look at those".

Chambers had pointed several feet away from the zombie's carcass, leading

Redfield to look in that direction himself before he spotted several green plants in three round flowerpots that seemed to be haphazardly placed there.

"What _about_ those?", the older man inquired as the younger woman walked towards the pots and squatted in front of them.

"I'm pretty sure these are herbs, Chris", the Bravo agent explained, gently touching the green plants with her bare skin, "And I don't think they're in this place by accident or because of any aesthetic values. If I had money, I'd bet I can use these herbs to eradicate the effects of a zombie bite, as long as it's fresh, before the virus gets carried from the host to the infectee via the bloodstream".

From her almost 24 hours spent with Billy Cohen, the medic could recall similar information that was saved in a computer file that kept referring to a virus which had the ability to turn people into the undead. She just didn't have a reason to divulge the source of that information to her new partner. And agent Redfield didn't ask how she knew all this, so the matter was defunct.

"No kidding?", the older man squatted next to her, suddenly appearing eager to know more about her idea, even as he stared ahead of them and then behind them to make certain that no creatures were about.

"Like I said, why don't you pick up the armaments from Forest and I'll do this here?", Chambers suggested without looking at him, immersed in her work and excited on doing something useful for someone else for a change, instead of always being to worried about her own survival.

"Forget it", Redfield was adamant as his head swung back and forth again, "We're not separating, even if we're staying close as we do so. Take your time. Once you're done, then we'll _both_ get the hardware from Forest".

"Well, I can't say I would entirely be unhappy about that", the medic replied as she finally threw a glance in his direction, "But these herbs are fully matured anyway, which means they're useful without the soil they're sitting in".

Gripping the green plants at the very spot where they emerged from the dirt-filled pot, agent Chambers ripped all six leaves out of their container before standing back up and tucking the greenery in the loosest pocket she could find, that being the one behind her left calf. Taking turns to hold the Beretta in each hand, she casually rubbed the palm of her hands on the front part of her trousers, preferring to wipe dry whatever sweat or dirt may have been on them so as to give her the best possible grip on the weapon.

"Would you like _me_ to check Forest for his weaponry, Chris?", she offered to the older man as they both turned back towards the path that would lead them to their dead colleague, "I liked Forest, he was nice. But he was your friend first. I could, if you want, while you don't have to...".

"It's OK, Becca, really", Redfield assured her as they both proceeded towards agent Speyer's body, "Let's just do what we need to do to get out of here. Sooner it's done, the better".

"How many grenades did you see on h...", agent Chambers began to ask her Alpha team-mate but stopped in mid-sentence without looking up towards his face because her attention was diverted ahead of her, just as his would've been, she suspected.

The Bravo member's eyes and mouth dropped open in abject horror and she simultaneously made a squeaking noise when she realized that the chair which had carried agent Speyer's corpse was now empty. In the back of her mind, she spent about a fraction of an instant wondering if her partner would lose his temper for the second time. But she quickly brushed that question off as she gripped the handle of her Beretta tighter, instead visually combing the shadowy area ahead of her in case her former comrade was around to try to attack them both.

"Oh, no", Chambers whispered as she lifted both arms straight ahead of her chest, the firearm held in between the two, slightly quivering, hands, "It can't be".

"Does this mean what I think it means?", Redfield kept his own handgun merely in his right grip, with that arm still bent at the elbow and the weapon kept aimed towards the sky a few inches away from his face.

"Yes", her head began bobbing up and down several times, as if she thought he needed to see her facial reaction in case he couldn't hear her words, "I think he might've turned".

"Dammit, Forest...", the young man's tone of voice carried one of the few sorrows which was worse than finding out a dear person was dead.

"Do you see him, Chris?", Chambers inquired next, her head twisting behind her in case the zombie who was formerly a police officer had managed to walk past them without being heard when they were examining the herbs earlier.

"No", the Alpha member lightly shook his head as his own eyes remained on the area in front of them.

"I don't _believe_ this!", the medic exclaimed to no one in particular as she continued looking both behind and ahead of them, intentionally keeping herself within an arm's reach of her larger partner.

"There _is_ something else, though", a more composed Redfield looked down, breaking the tense search throughout the outdoor corridor.

The young man had bent down and stood back up before Chambers realized he was holding something in his left hand. Looking over in his direction, she saw that he had a full 9mm clip and a grenade bomb, both items compressed against each other inside his left thumb and fingers.

"Have you ever used one of these before?", the Alpha officer asked, keeping his left hand within a few inches of her face.

"What, you mean the hand grenade?", Chambers asked back, her head still darting back and forth rather than allowing her to look back at him.

"Mmhmm", the older man nodded.

"No, never", she shook her brunette bob.

Redfield carefully placed the hand grenade within a pocket in his vest before offering the clip full of ammunition to her. It was a gift that she was happy to accept, which she did, gripping the extra clip of bullets almost the same way that one would hold on to a lifejacket when drifting out in the middle of an ocean.

"Chris, you really _will_ need to be ready to shoot Forest if we ever do see him, OK?", she followed her partner's example and tucked the clip away with the others that were on her person. 

"What?! No!!", the older agent shook his head, the indignation apparent on his face despite the shadows cast by the moonlight hiding half his features, "If we run into Forest again, we need to save him. YOU need to save him, Becca. Use those herbs you told me about".

"Chris, you need to listen to me here", it was her turn to take charge as she gripped his right shoulder with her left hand, bringing her face closer to his, "Forest's _gone_. That thing that stood up and walked away isn't a person, I mean, it's not even _alive_. The herbs are only something to apply after a recent attack, long before someone's died or turned. We need to kill him, OK?".

"No!", he pulled away from her mild grip, turning around from the locked gaze they were sharing and stepping two steps away from her, his eyes searching the dark recesses of the hallway that waited for him to investigate them, "Then we'll knock him out and carry him back to the city. Have some hospital look at him. He'll be fine. He'll...".

"What hospital can bring back the dead?", her voice wasn't sarcastic or mocking as she walked up behind him and rested the palm of her left hand on his upper back.

Redfield's face dropped towards the floor as he fell silent, his shoulders slumping in reaction to him accepting defeat in this discussion, regardless of how much he hated to do so.

"We still have more people to find, right?", Chambers remarked as she withdrew her left hand and returned to gripping the weapon with both palms.

"Right", the young man lifted his face back up to look ahead rather than at his feet, "Let's go".

"OK", she confirmed.

Neither one of them mentioned that they now also had one extra monster to deal with, wherever it may have gone after waking up, as the only sounds greeting them were their feet on the ground and the light breeze all around them.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	21. Chapter 20b Bring it on

A/N: Just wanted to leave a note to say thanks to everyone whose been reviewing, cannot say how much it means to me! Special thanks go to enRAGEd and RElady for being swell. 

"Fucking death-trap! Fucking morons fucking hellhole raising the fucking dead", agent Valentine hissed in a mixture of anger and frustration as part of her twenty-minute long swearing rant while proceeding down a well-lit indoor corridor.

She stepped over a large, rotting cadaver, being careful to not touch it even with her shoes as she looked in its direction, just to make sure it wasn't moving after she had passed it. At least this dead person seemed to remain dead, unlike the walking corpses that littered this place, she thought to herself while still agitated over the recent events that had changed her personal status.

Instead of being armed with only a 9mm pistol, the Alpha officer now had a double barrelled shotgun that was strapped to her back, along with an actual metal key that rested in her trousers pocket, as opposed to the imitation one she previously carried. The former had come across her possession when she saw the long weapon resting on a wooden plaque that was positioned on the wall as two metal hooks kept it attached to the tablet itself. At first, Valentine hadn't believed her good fortune, so she had eagerly taken the weapon and checked to see that it was loaded with seven live rounds. But there must've been some kind of trap designed around the bait which had been gladly taken, because the next room she continued towards turned out to be an ornately-decorated one. It was an area she had passed through once before, but this time, the ceiling started lowering towards her at a rate that indicated she'd be nothing more than a stain on the floor within sixty seconds. Not surprisingly, the two doors that had to be pulled open to allow her to exit that area were now automatically locked, and it was only through the use of her own personal lock picks that she was able to quickly make her way through the entrance closest to her.

Once on the other side of the room, morbid curiosity had prompted her to stop in place and watch as the ever-lowering ceiling had crushed the open door and then came to rest only when it met the floor. The STARS agent had thanked whatever variable had led her to once go undercover as a cat burglar, as that experience ultimately led to her having no problems overcoming what would've otherwise been a fatal trap. 

From there, though, it had gotten even more creative in a bad way. Valentine had walked upon a rectangular piece of stone that rested on the floor and was about 15 inches long and 10 inches wide, and also saw a metal key lying in the middle of it, as if the piece of stone was made especially for that object. But upon picking the key up, she had heard herself gasping and then saw a suit of armour snapping forward from her left and two walls closing in from behind her as well as from her right. Valentine had never been claustrophobic, but she had soon realized that the trap wasn't meant to crush anyone. It was only supposed to restrain her as a rumbling noise was heard approaching. It was only a few seconds later that her eyes widened as a new knight in armour appeared as it was automatically moving towards her, but this one carried a huge blade at its torso that was wide enough and rotating so quickly so as to block off her only chance of escape. 

Reacting reflexively, the STARS member had slammed the newly-found key back down on the stone slab, only then realizing that the rectangular piece had sunk lower into the floor after she had picked the metal object off it. In response to her latest action, the stone block rose back to its previous position and the dangerous rotating blades had been retracted, pulled back to their previous spot around the corner where she couldn't see it.

Valentine didn't need long to guess that the imitation key she had retrieved from the dog's collar may have been meant for that area, so it had then been only a matter of picking the genuine key back up and then replacing it with the imitation one. All the while, she kept the powerful shotgun aimed towards the source of the approaching danger, should the spinning blades return. Fortunately, the stone rectangle remained where it was without sinking deeper towards the floor, thus leaving the Alpha mechanic with a key that was difficult to get, even though she didn't know its use at the time.

That led her to the present situation where she ranted while proceeding through yet another hallway, though this was darker and gloomier, with her always hoping to find someone she recognized. Or even someone who was alive, as long as he or she wasn't wearing long sacrificial robes, she told herself. The shotgun was strapped to her back because she didn't wish to use the seven rounds it held unless something more dangerous than a zombie reared its ugly head. Still, though, the fact that such a complicated puzzle was put in place was making her ask what kind of sick individuals would come up with it after managing to resurrect those who had fallen and died. 

"I mean, an imitation key hidden in the collar of a dog that can climb trees", she remembered out loud as she walked past a broken photo frame whose picture was missing, the whole time talking to herself just so she'd hear a human voice, as it had been too long since she departed from Redfield's company, and the sound of only her feet was irritating, "Then use that to save yourself from some enchanted suit of armour that comes at you with its lance switched to slice'n'dice. Who's in hells idea was _that_?".

Almost in response to her question, she spotted a lone zombie from about two dozen steps away, even while it hadn't noticed her yet. Agent Valentine didn't give in to the temptation of holstering the Beretta and taking a hold of the shotgun whose tip was aimed towards the ceiling at an angle after her shoulders. So gripping the handgun with only her right palm, the officer quickly but calmly approached her adversary, the latter noticing her movements when she was about ten yards away from him and closing in fast. A few more steps after that and she had halved the distance again and pulled the trigger on her weapon.

A round exploded out of the Beretta and entered the monster's cranial, causing it to whip its upper body back and towards the ceiling at the same time before it readjusted its concentration and lifted its arms towards her. Despite the perfect headshot that she believed had just been executed, Valentine sighed in exasperation because she saw that the zombie's head hadn't exploded, and it hadn't collapsed after not being decapitated. Instead, the creature just groaned and took its first, clear step in her direction.

"How the _fuck_ does Chris do that with one shot?", she thought out loud as she watched the two-legged fiend taking its second laboured step towards her.

Holding her breath, agent Valentine kept the Beretta in her right hand as that arm was held straight and parallel to the floor. She squeezed the trigger again, sending a second bullet into the zombie's brain near where the first round entered its cranium. The creature finally gasped its last breath as it looked up towards the ceiling due to the impact at the top of its head and then collapsed on the floor.

The Alpha agent made her way past the permanently ceaseless creature, noticing a small cabinet that had been smashed beyond where it lay. She took a moment to skim whatever contents the cupboard might've had, both on top and inside of it. Finding nothing useful, Valentine moved further until she came across a wooden door to her left. The officer stood on one side of the doorway and gripped the doorknob. Realizing it was unlocked, she slowly opened the door and peeked through it. 

On the other side, Valentine visually inspected the new area to find that it was a short, darkened hallway, just like most that she had crossed so far. This one was carpeted and had one flickering light resting on the wall about halfway through it. She walked through the doorway, slowly but steadily proceeding towards the left-side turn in the hall that was available after a dozen steps. She ignored the first interruption in the wall to her left, preferring to move on until the second turn that was only a few yards after it. So the officer looked to her left, saw nothing there, then continued her trek towards the short-term destination. It was then that her attention was instinctively drawn to the floor and the shadowy carpet that lay under her feet. She wasn't sure, but she thought that what appeared to be the silhouette of an adult person was roughly etched upon the rug. She wondered how that large stain got to be there. The STARS Alpha agent would've liked to stay there and investigate further, to possibly come up with theories to answer her question, but she quickly decided to continue the search for her colleagues instead, since she didn't care all that much about this current mystery. There would be plenty of time to satisfy her curiosity once everyone else was safe and sound.

So Valentine took the second left-hand turn and found another hallway that was about as long as the one she had just finished traversing, this one concluding with another closed door at the end of it. About ten more steps brought her to the front of that doorway, also making her notice that the first corridor that she had skipped past led to this exact spot anyway. Hoping for the best and ready for the worst, the RPD officer stood next to the entryway yet again and tested the doorknob with her left hand. Feeling it unlocked, she pulled the door towards her until it was open.

Jill Valentine gasped in delight as her eyes and mouth widened at seeing that Bravo agent Richard Aitken was facing her as he stood just out of her arm's reach. His back was to the wall and his face carried an expression as if he had just seen god herself. For a short, scary moment, Valentine thought he might've died in shock and his body had entered a state of rigor mortis, but her fears were then quieted when the young man spluttered out of his daze. The slightly shorter male agent eagerly pointed towards the staircase that was behind him and to his left while carrying a special assault shotgun in his other hand. The weapon was most likely as powerful as the one that Valentine had strapped to her back, except it just plain looked cooler, she thought to herself before brushing the comment out of her mind.

"You are NOT gonna believe what I saw in there!", Aitken exclaimed a second after he made eye contact with her.

"Hm", the female Alpha agent chuckled as the door for her entryway closed behind her, "Not 'great to see you, Jill' or 'thank god you're OK; is anyone else with you?'. But either way, I'm glad to see _you_".

The Bravo communications expert gripped the assault shotgun with the right hand while he approached her and roughly squeezed her shoulder with his left fingers.

"Jill, it's great to see you", he announced in a loud fashion, "But after what I've just seen, NOTHING is gonna surprise me".

"Richard, what are you _talking_ about?", she sighed, part of her wishing he would turn into agent Redfield, or at least act like him until she was re-united with everyone else in both STARS teams.

"I think it may be dead, though", Aitken continued, frustrating her by not answering her question, "I threw a grenade at its sorry ass, and there's a good chance it's being used for St. Peter's boots and luggage in... where snakes go after kicking the bucket, as we speak".

"You used a grenade to take out a snake??", the Alpha agent replied in an almost accusing fashion, and then intentionally held back the hostility from her voice.

This was a fellow STARS member, after all, and regardless of her feelings towards his demeanour, she was going to look out for him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to snap", she shook her head slightly while continuing in a friendlier tone, "Been a crazy night, you know? But are you phobic of snakes or something? I mean, with all these zombies running around, you used a grenade on a _snake_? But I suppose it's not a bad thing. It's _your_ explosion I heard that brought me here. Means now we can both go back and look for Chris together".

Aitken's reaction was to laugh at her comment, which quickly made the Alpha member's mood reverse to one that was less hospitable. Seeing the change in her facial features, the male agent quickly put his free left hand between them, the palm facing her as he shook it.

"No, no, no, Jill, sorry", he explained, "I wasn't laughing at you. Just.. You're thinking snake".

With those words, Aitken placed his left hand about a meter away from his right arm, indicating that's how long the snake was being pictured in her mind.

"But I'm talking about SNAKE!", he then added, standing on his tiptoes and stretching his left arm up as high as that hand could reach, "And I don't mean a boa constrictor or an anaconda or anything".

"Yeah, but a grenade, Richard?", Valentine asked, her tone softer yet again, sounding a lot more understanding, "But either way, it's done now, and it helped me find you. So let's get outta here and find Chris, Barry and the captain".

"No, no, Jill, you don't get it", the Bravo agent went back to standing at his regular height as he lowered his arm and continued facing her, "I'm not leaving that thing until I'm _positive_ that it's dead. That freak was at least FORTY feet long, no joke".

The Alpha agent's eyes widened for the second time in the previous minute when she heard the last statement he made.

"Uh... OK, I haven't seen this, and I really have no _desire_ to either", Valentine finally uttered, getting ready to turn back around and accompany Aitken back to where her other colleagues could be found, "Let's go already, then?".

"Uh, Jill, not that I'm particularly eager to split up", the male agent didn't budge as the Alpha officer had gripped the doorknob behind her, partly turning around to leave, "I've been alone much too long here as it is after Forest gave me two grenades and took off. But I either killed that thing or at least wounded it, and if it's the latter, then I can't, in good faith, walk away".

"Why the hell not?!", Valentine turned her full attention back on him.

"Haven't you seen how these zombies act?", Aitken shot back, pointing towards the hallway she had used to arrive here, "I checked its pulse after it went down. Bullet after bullet seemed to kill it, and when I went back half an hour later, as I'm walking past, goddamn thing grew claws and started _running_ for me. Damn thing almost impaled me until its face met with my friend here".

As he finished talking, the young man proudly caressed the surface of his assault shotgun.

"And _then_, damn thing melted", he continued, prompting Valentine to momentarily remember the human-shaped stain that was on the carpet a short time ago.

It answers the question she had earlier, she thought to herself.

"So if this snake is hurt and could regenerate itself, I'm not gonna allow it", Aitken insisted, feeling more confident and stubborn than she wished he was, "You can go back and find everyone else if you want, Jill, and I'll catch up, OK?".

Valentine sighed.

"You must have like _no_ friends or loved ones waiting for you back in the city if you're being this brave", she rubbed her eyes with the left hand, "Even _I_ have a cat, but...".

She saw a smile appearing on his face.

"But you better not get me killed in there, Aitken", the Alpha officer holstered the Beretta before retrieving the shotgun that rested at her back.

She had no problems thinking that if this monster was still alive, then it definitely qualified as the threat that was tougher than a zombie, which she had saved the stronger weapon for.

"And this snake better be either dead or close to dying", she continued talking as she checked the first of seven live rounds within the shotgun, even as agent Aitken did the same and turned around to climb up the few steps behind him. 

"Don't worry, don't worry. It is", the Bravo agent promised as he reached the top of the staircase and brushed off the few cobwebs that were on the surface of the door that waited for them there, "I used the grenade and shot it so many times. It has to be dying if it's not toast alr...".

The Bravo officer pushed the door open as agent Valentine followed him closely, both of them were greeted with a dirty, gloomy attic that was about ten yards wide and several times longer than that. The male agent who had taken his first step inside that room stopped talking as his face swept from the left to the right, then back to the left again.

"What is it, Richard?", Valentine inquired as she noticed the fashion in which he suddenly quieted down in the middle of his confident reply.

"It's not here", the Bravo agent whispered back, prompting her to grip the shotgun tighter, suddenly wondering how effective even its formidable ammunition would be when tested against an animal as gigantic as the one she had heard being described.

"Then let's get the f...", Valentine was ready to turn back around with her colleague by her side before closing the door behind them both.

She was interrupted by a hissing sound that emanated from an unseen source. For a split second, the Alpha agent was reminded of her cat back home, but why was this hiss so loud?

"Oh, Jeez. That's him", the Bravo official thought out loud as he positioned his assault shotgun ahead of him, aiming the muzzle at the general area that was in front of them both.

"So why are we standing here when we should be leaving?", his partner suggested as she was already stepping backwards, going back through the doorway she had walked through to enter this dusty area.

She was within the open entryway when she realized that agent Aitken wasn't following her, which induced her to reach out and grab the back of his shirt with her left hand. Valentine yanked the young man in her direction, but she was surprised when the Bravo agent refused to budge, preferring to stand in place rather than retreat with her.

It was then that the scenery before them shifted.

The dirty attic was still there, but it was suddenly not visible anymore because a giant snake which was approximately three feet wide and at least forty feet long slithered at the area just in front of them from parts unknown. The speed that it moved with was incredibly fast for a creature of its size, maybe even quicker than the humans could move, despite their STARS training. The Alpha agent thought it looked like a giant, hellish roller coaster come to life. It was clearly very hostile and made of flesh, instead of being made out of inanimate metal. What's more, this creature didn't appear to be hurt at all, despite Aitken's self-assured promises.

"Richard, come ON!", Valentine pulled him with more force, filling her with a compound of fear and aggravation when he still held his ground instead of complying with her request.

The gliding monster had the majority of its long body on the floor. But it smoothly raised the front three yards of its figure off the floor, lifting it vertically towards the ceiling before its large head shifted ahead till its body was in an approximate Z position. Its murderous eyes focused on the two tiny humans that were about ten yards away from it, which was a distance that Valentine was sure it could cross in a heartbeat if it chose to do so, especially after seeing the fluidity of its movement. The snake opened its mouth, hissing angrily at them for the second time, except now the Alpha agent gasped at seeing two thick, foot-long fangs that hung from the upper part of the inside of its mouth. So she wondered why the hell Aitken wasn't moving away from it like she wanted him to and closing the door behind them both. Was he frozen in place? And if so, could she pull him with her before the monster sprang forth and easily swallowed them?

She had resolved to grip the collar at the back of his shirt and pull him with all the strength in her left arm while maintaining the right grip on her shotgun, when agent Aitken lifted his own assault shotgun higher, indicating that he wasn't frozen at all.

"Payback time!", the male agent yelled while pulling the trigger once, a shotgun blast exiting the weapon and soaring inside the snake's mouth. 

The monster gasped, either in pain or surprise, Valentine didn't know which, as it arched its head upwards. While it refocused its face on the annoying pair of humans, Aitken was already bolting away from the open exit that was behind him, preferring to run further into the attic, thus ensuring that either he or the beast would die in that room.

"RICHARD! NO!", Valentine shouted after him, already knowing she was too late if she wanted to convince him to see things from her point of view.

The Bravo agent either didn't hear her or just ignored her if he did, yelling at himself amid the loud noise that was a combination of his feet on the ground, both humans screaming and the snake seeming to verbally lay claim to its territory. Instead of paying attention to her, he fired a second time, this round exploding a patch of clear liquid on the surface of the monster's body itself, the wound being much too small to cause it much discomfort, despite the size of the weapon used.

"Stupid son of a bitch", Valentine wasn't sure whether she referred to the snake for existing or Aitken for making it more difficult for her to retreat.

She raised her own shotgun and tried to aim for the same spot on the surface of the creature's body where the Bravo member's second round had struck. The consequent firing sent a second large calibre bullet smacking into the snake's figure, just next to the one that Aitken had inflicted, with the end result being the widening of the previous wound. This time, though, the animal finally showed some reaction to the wound, gasping louder, most likely from pain.

The beast laid its entire body flat against the ground, opting to glide straight towards Valentine's position with the speed of a locomotive. The Alpha agent's eyes widened with shock as she found herself to be frozen in place, even if it was only for an instant. Unfortunately, the instant of hesitation cost her dearly as the monster capitalized on her immobile state, crossing the space that separated them within a heartbeat and slightly lifting its grotesque crown off the floor while spreading its jaws wide. The human didn't even have time to scream as she was staring up at its colossal maw, knowing that it was about to swallow her whole from the head down. 

The next sensation Valentine felt was that of being slammed sideways against the floor, her forearm crashing against the concrete at an awkward angle, and it was only then that she let out a yell, mistakenly thinking that she was dead. But a moment of realisation later made her aware that she was lying prone on the dusty floor while still painfully clutching the shotgun in both hands, holding on to it for dear life. Lifting her head, she spotted that agent Aitken had shoved her out of harm's way, at least for the moment, and he himself was now bolting away as fast as he could run because the snake now replaced her for him in its sights. 

The Alpha agent crept up to a kneeling position, ignoring her throbbing elbow, and took aim with the shotgun again. A jerk of the trigger resulted in the round not hitting its target in the body where she intended it to, but rather under the chin instead, so her inaccurate aim turned out to be a positive factor. Clear liquid burst out from underneath the creature's head as it arched its face towards the ceiling, hissing once, and then flopped lifelessly on the floor, sending a large cloud of dust flying through the air at the impact.

"Nice!", Aitken couldn't keep the satisfied smile off his face as he kept pointing his assault shotgun at the snake's carcass, "Way to go, Valentine! Are you alright?".

She wasn't sure whether she felt extremely affectionate towards the blonde man or wanted to smack him in the back of the head for forcing her to stay here due to his refusal to exit the room a short time ago. 

Re-animated corpses are one thing. It could've been an effect of magic, for all she knew, as she had heard countless stories in the media about evil sorcerers and necromancers who brought back the dead. Until now, she never believed any of them, or even paid close attention, but even if those tall tales were what had occurred here, how could she explain the existence of a forty-foot long snake? But when all was said and done, she was standing, mostly unhurt except for the constant pain in her arm, while the monster was dead. So in regards to the options with her new partner, Valentine decided it was better to go with her former choice as opposed to the latter one.

She took a handful of steps towards her colleague while he did the same to approach her, the remnants of the snake remaining between them and to the side. So the Alpha agent walked out of her way to near the monster, even as Aitken kept the assault shotgun aimed towards it. The female agent held her breath as she came to within an arm's reach of the snake's head, checking for any signs of life. She saw none. But just to make sure, she pressed the muzzle of her own shotgun against the immobile snake's head, guessing that's where its brain would be. Without any hesitation, she pulled the trigger hard, more pain travelling up her arm as she did. It was only after the creature's head bounced off the ground in an explosion of clear blood that the Alpha agent appeared to relax, finally resting the weapon between her two hands instead of gripping it firmly. As she turned away from what she considered to be the formerly living roller coaster, she smiled at her colleague as the young man appeared to breathe easier himself while he bent his right elbow and held the base of his own shotgun upside-down on his right shoulder, letting the majority of the weapon hang horizontally in the air behind him. 

"I'm _really_ hoping no one else has anything that exciting to report when we find 'em", Aitken snickered, noticing that his partner smiled back.

"Are we ready to leave now?", Valentine asked the obvious question, feeling glad she knew the answer as the Bravo member's grin widened. 

Aitken pointed to the door with his left hand, but she didn't notice it because her attention was grabbed by something behind him. Valentine's eyes focused when she spotted a rectangular, brown-coloured box that rested several yards away from them, sitting on a barrel that was placed against the far wall. She wouldn't have seen it normally, except that the box colouring made it stand out from the dark grey and dust that was otherwise all around them.

"Right after we see what _that_ is, OK?", she pointed towards that area with her face, which prompted Aitken to turn around as she began walking towards it.

The Alpha agent crossed the area between her and the mysterious box within a few moments and casually opened it, with her colleague slowly making his way towards the door, as she guessed that Aitken was waiting for her to bring the box with her or just leave it there if it was useless. But far from being useless, Valentine's eyes grew wider as she gasped, but this time with excitement, as she spotted at least two dozen fresh shotgun shells that were inside of it.

"Richard", she looked over in his direction and closed the box with the joy of someone who was experiencing her first piece of good luck since arriving here, "You're not gonna believe what's...".

"JIIIIIILL!", was the young man's sole response as she heard him yelling out, either in pain or fear, she couldn't say.

She also didn't know what the Bravo agent was looking at. So instinctively following his gaze, Valentine's eyes fell upon the gigantic snake as it reared up from the ground, its tremendous body aiming straight for her as she was about to be attacked from the aerial assault. In the back of her mind, the last thought she had before knowing she was going to die was that she had definitely missed its brain when trying to execute it.

The Alpha agent couldn't remember diving to one side in a knee-jerk reaction to try to avoid her doom, but she must've done so in the direction of the door, rolling on the dusty floor with the shotgun in one hand and the box of ammunition in the other. It didn't occur to her to drop the extra ammunition as the monster would've definitely tried a second attack as soon as she stood up, and her odds of survival would've been better if she shot it. As she was climbing back up to a kneeling position, she heard a firearm being used off in the distance. So she shakily stood up at her full height, only now aware that the creature should've been on top of her. 

Except it wasn't. Rather, the monster was lifting its head towards the high ceiling, gasping like a melodramatic actor. It wasn't until it lowered its head back towards the floor that Valentine realized why, as its left eye was gone, replaced with a painful hole that was there after it had been shot in that spot. Whatever else Aitken may have been, he was definitely a good cop with a good aim, and one who had saved her life twice already. All those thoughts were racing through her head when the young man's shotgun discharged again, bringing her out of her momentary daze and striking the snake in the mouth.

The monster buckled, crashing towards the floor in a mixture of pain and confusion, without trying to attack either human there. Once lying horizontally on its full frame, it turned and dashed away from them as quickly as it could manage. Even it knew that, despite its awesome size and resilience, a second shot to its other eye would've left it permanently defenceless. It only needed an instant to disappear from view before Valentine and Aitken heard glass shattering, which probably meant that the monster had broken through an unseen window in its attempt to get away from them.

"Tough son of a bitch!", Aitken exclaimed as he jogged past her, intent on pursuing the creature, his shotgun changed back to a ready position, "Come on, Jill! We can take him down once and for all! He's almost spent!". 

It was the last words he said before he himself vanished around the corner, leaving the Alpha agent alone in the dusty attic. Valentine thought to herself that she should run after him, offer whatever assistance she could in the objective to destroy that abomination, especially after she had twice dodged its attacks successfully due to her colleague's intervention.

So why couldn't she move from her standing position?

It was the pain. It was greater now than a few moments ago when she had landed on her arm. Looking down at her left elbow, the young woman didn't appear as surprised as she thought she should've at the sight of bright red blood oozing out of her left shoulder and upper arm. She knew that either a tourniquet or pressure upon the wound should be administered, maybe even both. So she asked herself why she wasn't moving to do either.

Valentine held on to the shotgun with one hand, while she clutched the metallic box of ammunition to her torso with the other, not knowing why she was doing so as she became disoriented and her surroundings began to dance in front of her eyes. The STARS mechanic staggered through the open doorway, stumbling past the entry and not realising that she had gone in the opposite direction from her partner's. Her swaying feet came across the steps that were leading down from the doorway. Even if she recognized the steps for what they were, she didn't have the balance to descend them as a coherent person would. The Alpha agent proceeded forward without noticing and fell down the steps, losing her grip on the shotgun even though she continued pressing the box of ammunition against her torso. She was unconscious by the time she landed on her face on the floor in front of the short staircase, the weapon uselessly lying a few feet away from her prone figure.


	22. Chapter 20c Adrenaline Junkie

A/N As dedicated to my godson Cole-Jay and his wonderful mother. Thanks to the captain for being my night time buddy. And thank you to Johnny for making everyone at his work read. And thank you to everyone who is still reading.  

"I _know_ that I heard it here, people, so what's the use in hiding from me?", captain Wesker gritted his teeth together while scanning the area ahead of him from behind the muzzle of the Desert Eagle.

The RPD official turned the corner that led him further down the hallway, getting more and more agitated that he had heard muffled gunfire from a significant distance, but now that he was around the area that he believed the approximately half a dozen shots came from, he found nothing to hint that a battle took place here. No shell casings, no dead monsters, and most vexing of all, no humans.

The now-renegade Umbrella agent inhaled and exhaled loudly through his mouth, intentionally placing his tongue between his two rows of teeth in an effort to keep from grinding them together, as had been the habit ever since he had lost contact with agent Redfield. It had been worse since running into Ms. Warren's spectre, and it wasn't getting any easier on him. Plus, whatever relief from the stress that finding his comrades-in-arms might've provided just wasn't happening because he was still alone.

But then, his eyes narrowed carefully from behind the dark shades as he spotted a discolouration in the carpet. Wesker quietly kneeled in front of the large stain and lowered his sunglasses towards his nose with his left index finger, always keeping his right clutch on the handle of the weapon. He then touched the human-shaped profile that was darker than the rest of the rug itself, though only marginally.

"So...", the captain thought out loud as he returned his gaze upwards while returning to a standing position, placing the sunglasses back in front of his eyes, "Someone managed to take out a V-ACT. You never _did_ find a way to keep their cells from destabilizing upon reaching critical damage, did you? Too bad for you that your work will be cut short once I'm done".

The armed man followed the path that the hallway led him towards, turning to the left and coming upon a closed door.

"I'd hate to think how many innocents you directly infected with the T-virus before it infected you too", he kept addressing his former colleagues at Umbrella as he gripped the doorknob and cautiously pulled the door towards him, "But either way, it looks like we have a lot of heads to cut off or zombies to incinerate. Always responsible for your dirty work and cleaning up after you, you pathetic bunch of...".

Wesker trailed off, stopping in mid-sentence as he saw a prone figure who was lying on her stomach in front of a short ascending staircase. He believed it was agent Valentine from Alpha team, though he couldn't be sure until he closed the distance between himself and her hopefully merely unconscious figure. But whether she was only knocked out or, worse, dead, having him lose his temper surely wasn't going to help her in any way.

The RPD captain swiftly moved towards the immobile figure, not paying any attention to the door that remained partially open behind him. Crouching next to the body, he quickly realized that, true to his suspicions, it truly was agent Valentine who was lying on the floor, as she was probably the one who had been firing the shotgun that was a short distance away from her. After all, Wesker knew that he wouldn't have heard the sound from a standard issue Beretta from as far away as he was when the gunfire grabbed his attention, but thankfully, the female officer had been firing a much more powerful weapon. But those details bore no importance at this time, so the older man held his breath as he hastily placed his left middle and index fingers by the side of her neck. 

He allowed himself the luxury of breathing again when he felt a strong pulse in his colleague, so he could at least work to find out what was wrong and try to help her. She was already lying face-down, so there was no danger of her suffocating on her own vomit, not that he had seen any signs of her throwing up. He next examined her figure, being careful to not move her on the small chance that she had any internal bleeding. But even if she had fallen down the few steps, the trauma suffered should not have been enough to knock the STARS agent unconscious, not if all other factors were the same. So Wesker asked himself where the blood stains were coming from as the young woman also didn't appear to be bitten, especially considering that a zombie or other infected animal wouldn't have subdued her and then left without dining on her first.

The RPD captain soon realized that the blood was slowly trickling out of her left upper arm, so taking a hold of that particular limb, he carefully raised it away from Valentine's figure for a closer inspection. The wound itself was almost clotted so that the blood flow had almost stopped, but the source of the problem was seen in that the injury appeared to have been made by a bite. Placing the Desert Eagle on the floor by his feet, Wesker lowered his shades towards his nose again as he brought his face closer to Valentine's arm, his eyes hovering mere inches away from the injury. The bite was deep, that much he could tell right away, and shaped in a hole that indicated it was produced by a fang. Over a dozen dull, blue lines also led away from the wound, reaching towards the rest of Valentine's upper arm and shoulder. That last factor led Wesker to believe that he was dealing with a wound that was either infected or poisonous.

"What the hell do you people have running around here that has a fang _that_ big, Claymont?", he thought out loud while returning his sunglasses to their usual position.

He sighed to himself, resting Valentine's arm back on the floor and then picking up his firearm. He couldn't possibly treat the younger woman by himself, not without an ambulance crew to safely extract the poison from her bloodstream, or at least the ambulance equipment to help him do it on his own. Wesker rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand as he stood back up to his full height, trying hard to remember all the knowledge he was expertly capable in two decades ago, before his obsession with security, law and order prompted him to leave the scientific field behind. But no matter what he remembered, none of it would mean the difference for his colleague if he didn't have access to an entire matrix of testing equipment to identify the poison used and many different drugs to come up with its antidote. And such a limitation meant that Valentine had to be safeguarded from further harm and taken out of this mansion sooner rather than later, and then flow back to Raccoon City for treatment.

Of course, that led him back to their original problem, which was the one that involved dealing with the mansion's monstrous residents while trying to find a way out of it. If surviving this ordeal for every officer under his direct or indirect command hadn't been troubling enough, Valentine's plight now added a time limit to their mission. If time ran out before the STARS teams evacuated this place with her, then she would be counted as one of the agents who were killed in action. 

"Of course!", Wesker slapped himself in the forehead as a new realization entered his mind, chastising himself for taking at least an entire minute to think of it.

He had passed one of the many medical and experiment rooms that were within this grisly manor after he had heard Valentine's shotgun firing. It was a couple of minutes and many hallways ago that he caught a brief glimpse of the sign that was attached to the closed door that led to the medical area. But there was no reason to believe that such a room wouldn't have the equipment and drugs that he needed, and with his past experience as a scientist, he was sure he could put them to their proper use. He just had to make sure to retrace his steps back to where he had come from, and hope that his memory wouldn't fail him.

Captain Wesker eagerly holstered his Desert Eagle before placing the shotgun over his back with the help of the leather strap that was attached to it. Curious to quickly see the contents of the box that Valentine had been hugging while insentient, just in case it held anything of value to her, he also opened the rectangular-shaped box.

The head of both STARS teams didn't bother counting the number of shotgun shells there, instead opting to shove as many of them as the extra pockets in his uniform could carry. Ultimately, he got about 1/3 of the ammunition from the rectangular container, and then left the rest of the box on the floor. Lastly, just to make sure that no one else was around, he climbed up the short staircase, two steps at a time, and peered through the doorway after opening it by a few inches. Only a giant grey, dusty room was found on the other side, so Wesker closed the door and returned down the steps, nothing else keeping him from what he knew he wanted to do for the short run.

The Alpha team member crouched down as he turned the female agent so she was haphazardly lying on her back. He then slipped his right arm underneath the back of Valentine's knees while his left arm supported her upper body from beneath her back.

"Let's move, officer", he commented with a groan as he began carrying her limp figure back towards the direction that he had come from.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Agent Richard Aitken ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The dark environment he was passing could've held monsters, whether they be zombies, dogs, rooks, spiders, or maybe even creatures he hadn't seen yet. But at the moment, he didn't care. The only thing he had on his mind was pushing his endurance to its limit, and to do that, he had to ignore the pain that was screaming from both his legs as well as the cold burn that stemmed from the middle of his chest. The second and last hand grenade that had been given to him by agent Speyer bounced back and forth on his belt buckle while he held the assault shotgun diagonally across his chest, desperately trying to control his breathing through his nose and mouth.

He didn't wish to slow down at all if he could help it, even if that meant passing whatever monsters he was running past, because he saw the tail of the gigantic snake disappearing through a broken window that led it out of the area where he and agent Valentine had confronted the leviathan. Right now, nothing mattered to the young man more than catching up with that huge snake, because that was the only way he would be able to kill it and make certain that it stays dead. In comparison to the challenge and danger that the large monster posed to both STARS teams, dealing with all the other creatures in this mansion should be a piece of cake, at least Aitken chose to believe, regardless whether it was true or not. Because as long as the giant snake who appeared to be yawning every time it opened its mouth was still lurking about, despite being partially blind, it would easily tip the balance in favour of the undead creatures whenever it intervened in a battle between humans and monsters.   
So all he had to do was slay this monster to ensure that the humans regained the upper hand in their battle against the creatures of the night. Aitken just wished that he had stuck with the STARS doctor's advice to take up jogging on the treadmill a few years ago, as he was paying for not following that suggestion now. His relatively thin, 150-pound frame had a difficult enough time resuming the chase after the first couple of hundred yards were over, but his conditions were made even worse due to the extremely lethal assault shotgun that rested in his hands, that appeared to weigh more and more with every passing instant.

Arriving at the window that the snake had used to pass through and disappear outside, the Bravo agent first stopped and peeked through it, just to make sure that neither it nor any other creatures were lying in wait for him on the other side of the broken glass. Seeing nothing on the rooftop that was right outside the window, Aitken realized a new problem, which was his inability to safely manoeuvre from one steep rooftop to another. So pushing his head further out the window, he was rewarded only with wave of rain that battered his face. But next to the edge of the roof, he also saw a patch of wood that was parallel to the floor he stood on, and just below and to the left of the window itself. Even though the space of wood was only about six inches wide, it was large enough for him to stand up safely on it, thus allowing himself to take all the needed time to climb to the top. 

Aitken didn't give himself the time that his body wanted to take to catch his breath, opting to restart his pursuit right away, lest his prey had enough time to disappear out of sight. Climbing through the window, the young man was greeted with a gust of wind and a hail of rain as he forced himself to slow down. He knew as well as anyone that nothing else would've mattered if he were to foolishly rush through the rooftop, lose his footing and then plummet to his death. So Aitken stood still on the wooden patch for an instant, recognizing that he needed the use of both his hands if he was going to successfully follow the monster who slithered past this particular roof. As he strapped the assault shotgun to his back and began scaling the side of the roof that was at a 45 degree angle to the ground below, he gripped the side of the top of the mansion in an effort to help him retain his hold on the slippery surface. The 45 degree upward slope ended after eight yards of a demanding climb, fortunately leading to a flat surface that was parallel to the ground.

Once standing on the horizontal part of the rooftop, Aitken caught a glimpse of his adversary as the giant snake disappeared back inside the mansion via another open window, this one being on the other side of 45 degree decline that was waiting for him. Upon seeing the tip of the animal's tail disappear through the new section of the manor, Aitken had no problem making up his mind that his pursuit would go on as planned. If he could climb up the initial incline, then surely a decline should've been easier. All he had to do was not slip off the eight yards of wet rooftop and then find his footing at the 6-inch patch of flat wood that was available at the end of it. Once that was done, he'd have an easy access to the window that waited for him at the end of the downward slope.

"Come on, Jill! We can make it!", he addressed a partner who he assumed was right behind him, even though he was completely alone.

Ignoring the howling wind and constant rain that drenched him from head to toe, the Bravo agent placed his body flat against the edge of the descending roof, pressing his stomach against it, and began the process of slowly climbing downwards, feet first and gripping the edge of the narrow roof with one hand to increase his footing. 

It took him approximately a minute and a half to make his way to the bottom of the eight yard long slant before he was safely standing at the tiny flat edge at its bottom. Reaching forward, he gripped the bottom of the second window sill with both hands and pulled his body towards it, glad his arms were in better shape than his legs. It was with a final grunt that the young man positioned his upper body past the open window, following that with a lift of his legs that brought his lower body within the mansion also. 

Rolling onto the thankfully dry interior, Aitken then climbed back up to his feet as he groggily removed the assault shotgun from his back. Inspecting his new surroundings, he remembered to chastise himself for not checking to see if the monster had laid a trap for him in this new area before he jumped through the gap. Fortunately for him, that was not the case, as his wet frame was standing at the intersection between two empty hallways. One led to his left and ended with a closed door, while the second led straight ahead of him and ended after about fifteen yards. The latter caught his attention because he saw the tip of the snake disappearing at its end, the monster still eager to distance itself from its human predators. 

The Bravo agent didn't see any doors or windows at the end of this corridor, but knew there must've been one there if the giant had used it to traverse from the hallway to whatever lay ahead. Aiming his powerful weapon at the area ahead, Aitken jogged in that same direction and stopped when he came towards the end wall, hearing his own, short breaths as his chest hurt. He still ignored those factors because he soon spotted a large opening on the left side of the floor that led down to another level below it. Connecting both floors was a metal ladder that began at the edge of the gap and continued downward. 

"You sure know this goddamn place like the back of your nonexistent hand", Aitken swore at his opponent as he dropped down on his knees, pushing the muzzle of the shotgun through the hole before peeking past it. 

The limited visual range he was afforded showed him nothing dangerous, so due to the lack of any noise originating from downstairs, he then climbed back up to his feet and held the weapon in his right hand while he used his left hand to guide his way past the ladder. After the first three steps down, Aitken rotated his head back and forth at the area that awaited him below, his eyes catching sight of a large, relatively dark library that contained dozens of huge bookshelves, each of them full of books and manuscripts. The room was rectangular in shape, with the ladder being at its most south-eastern tip. At the wall to his right rested several of the large bookcases, all of them nearly touching the ceiling. And on the other side of the library, straight ahead, as far away from the ladder as possible, lay his mortal enemy.

Agent Aitken jumped off the ladder rather than take the last four steps that led towards the floor, a smile appearing on his face as the bottom of his feet met the hard carpet below. He ignored the momentary pain there, smoothly bringing the assault shotgun at a ready position in both his hands as he realized that the snake wasn't attempting to evade him any more. Was that because it tried to find a way out of this library and couldn't, or because it decided to stop running away and desired to face its marauders in a show of backbone? Of course, the issue that snakes didn't have a backbone passed over the young man's head as he aimed the muzzle of his weapon towards the monster that shifted its body in his direction.

But then, the Bravo agent's face shot up towards the ladder he had just used to come down here. Why was he alone? What had happened to agent Valentine that she wasn't climbing down the ladder after him to provide fire cover against the monstrosity? Aitken shook his head as he glanced back towards the gliding creature that kept shifting in place on the other side of the library, suddenly realizing that he couldn't remember the Alpha officer having climbed out of the attic window after him or even having said anything to him throughout the entire time he was chasing the snake.

"Oh, god! She couldn't have fallen off the roof, could she?", he thought out loud, gripping the assault shotgun harder as he aimed for the monster's head.

Aitken shook his head, quickly recognizing that he would've at least heard something out of the ordinary if agent Valentine had climbed out of the window after him, like he had assumed she would, and then lost her footing upon the wet roof outside. No, chances are that the young woman had never ran after him from the start once she saw him chasing the large, nearly blind creature. Not that the Bravo communications expert could've blamed her for the course of action she followed, but he suddenly found himself not wishing to be alone like he had been most of the time in this mansion.

"But fair enough", he shook his head, knowing that he had to concentrate on the fight ahead, "Hell, if I was her, I probably wouldn't have followed me out there either".

There was another factor he had forgotten to consider, so he continued aiming the muzzle of his assault shotgun at the hissing snake while walking away from the metal ladder, all the more to give himself the few moments he needed to remember. Aitken tried to recall how many of the ten rounds that were within his weapon he had used before the snake retreated. He was slightly frustrated when he couldn't be sure whether he had pulled the trigger three or four times during the last encounter, so he had to assume that it was the latter and he now carried six live rounds in his shotgun. He knew better than anyone that this monster which appeared to yawn every time it hissed wouldn't allow him to stop and reload his firearm.

Speaking of which, the cold-blooded reptile who was still at least twenty yards in front of him opened its mouth, hissing in what the young man guessed to be a medley of agony and fury. It was all he got to see it do because, without another warning, the giant snake struck. It slid past the floor space that separated them with speed that was slightly slower than previously, rotating its head sideways in an attempt to bite him in the stomach. The police officer fired once, not even sure if his aim hit its mark before jumping aside towards the line of bookshelves. The monster missed its human target by several feet as its head crashed into the vertical ladder instead. 

The creature needed a long moment to recover from the blow against the hard metal, which gave Aitken more than enough time to level the assault shotgun yet again before pulling the trigger and hitting the exact spot he intended. The snake reared in pain, throwing back its head as it cursed damnations, which only prompted the Bravo officer to smile involuntarily at himself.

The yawning monster finally turned its attention back on him, hissing yet again before it lunged for him a second time. Aitken was far enough from it that he pulled the trigger, saw a bullet entering the hard outer scales near its blinded eye, and then rolled to the side. The monster missed him again, this time slamming the front of its head into the wall. The young man stood back up and took aim for the third time, firing a shot that struck his prey just a few inches away from its remaining good eye. 

"No depth perception when you're half blind, huh, yawn?", the cop proudly remarked as the creature bellowed in agony.

Despite all the punishment it had been dealt so far, the mutated monster proved to be tougher than the human wished it to be by turning its head towards him yet again, this time lifting the front of its body so it nearly touched the ceiling. From the upraised position, it swooped down towards the floor, and the Bravo agent who stood there. Aitken was getting ready to jump aside again, but realized that the creature's aim was several yards off its target, as it wasn't even coming close to hitting him. True enough, instead of finding him, the snake's head struck the 5-yard tall bookcase that was nearest him. It bounced back from the impact, the bookcase swaying as a result of the blow.

Aitken was about to fire again, but was then interrupted when he heard the bookcase toppling down on top him. He barely had enough time to leap out of the way before the giant wooden shelves crashed down on the area where he was standing an instant ago. The case broke from the collision against the floor, sending hundreds of books and volumes flying in every direction. The Bravo agent landed roughly on his stomach instead of smoothly rolling away like he intended. Quickly rising back up to one knee, he gazed at his opponent as the truth of what he had seen sank into his mind.

"Great, a forty foot, most likely poisonous, _smart_ snake", he climbed to a standing position, realizing that it had accepted its inability to attack directly due to its blind eye and was now resorting to trying to bury him under a mound of literature.

Another sound followed from Aitken, one that he had heard all too often in this hellish house, which he quickly recognized to be himself panting for air. He hadn't calmed down from his running escapades before reaching the library, which signalled the beginning of the close-session sparring, all without any rest in between.

The monster didn't give him time to recover. It drove its head straight towards a second towering bookcase that was near him. Not waiting to see the result this time around, Aitken was already running at full speed towards the opposite side of the library. He pulled the trigger once more, striking his opponent's rope-like frame, before reaching the far wall, even as the second bookcase crashed towards the floor, sending an explosion of books that was far enough away that none of the volumes touched him.

Turning around with his back to the wall, the young man knew he had at least two more rounds in the weapon, and if need be, due to the monster's slower reflexes, he could possibly reload before the monster covered the twenty yards of space between them. Aitken took aim and pulled the trigger, the spent shell ejecting from the assault shotgun and landing by his feet. He ignored the creature's hiss of pain as it was finally hit in its good eye and fired again, and without even realizing it, then fired a third time.

On the other side of the room, the snake convulsed, its head bopping back and forth as if it was regurgitating its last meal, whoever or whatever that had been. It wasn't the previous hiss of pain, but rather the more coarse sound of an animal choking. Aitken pulled the trigger one more time, not surprised that he only heard a ~click~ sound emanating from the weapon, indicating that it was empty. Thus, he pointed the shotgun towards the floor with the left hand, reaching within his uniform for extra ammunition with the right. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he told himself that he actually had fired three times while fighting alongside Jill Valentine instead of four.

The weapon loaded up again, the Bravo agent levelled it towards the still shivering creature as he carefully walked towards it. Halfway through reaching it, he fired one more time, striking it in the head. But the monster didn't even seem to notice the new attack because it continued being strangled for a few more seconds before it finally crashed against the floor. The entire library shook as it landed hard, and then stopped moving altogether. Something fell out of its mouth, but Aitken wasn't close enough to know what it was.

Nearing it further, and remembering how this monster had successfully played dead not too long ago, the young man was ready to shoot it in the head a few more times, but then changed his mind when he saw that his prey began to melt into the floor. The entire body of the monster slowly dissolved into a purple slosh, emitting the odour of an animal who had died and decomposed a long time ago. Regardless of how intelligent an animal it was, no way could it pretend to be melting, so Aitken felt relaxed enough to lower his shotgun, thus sending it back to being aimed at his feet.

He had to keep looking at the melting corpse for a while longer, captivated at the sight out of morbid curiosity as he neared it. But his attention was soon diverted to the object that the monster spat out, which lay on the floor in front of its evaporated head, covered in transparent slime. It was a circular disk, about five inches in diameter, which had a smaller circle inside of it, and the stone picture of a wolf in the middle of that.

"What is _this_ supposed to be?", the Bravo agent squatted in front of the disk, bracing himself for when he knew he'd had to touch the slimy object.

Upon picking it up, Aitken first brushed as much of it against the floor as possible in an impromptu effort to make it clean. He then stood back up and looked for some pieces of paper from his surroundings to use as a cover for it, all the more so to avoid having to carry the sticky object all the time. He'd rather not carry it at all, of course, but he somehow doubted that the monster had accidentally swallowed the disk and then spat it back out upon dying, not when it was the only action it had taken before dissolving into a pool of sludge. There was no doubt that the disk had some value to it. He just didn't know what it was.

"Let's see, what's an appropriate one?", he thought out loud as he scanned the contents of the nearest bookcase that had fallen down.

The Bravo agent nonchalantly picked up a copy of Romeo And Juliet and tore off several of its pages before wrapping the entire disk with them. It was only then that he placed the object inside the largest pocket in his uniform, glad that the uniform had areas that were large enough to accommodate it.

"Fear not, young and old trees alike. Thou hath not died in vain", he grinned to himself while chucking the rest of the used book away, "Hell, if that _author_ was alive today, he'd be writing General Hospital or something".

Agent Richard Aitken maintained his left grip on the handle of the shotgun and looked around the library in a cursory inspection of the place. There were no weapons or any other useful items that he could spot, so he opted to return to the metal ladder that would take him back upstairs. 

He wasn't going to return to his previous location via the rooftop. He'd find another path to reach the attic and, hopefully, find agent Valentine again. And also hopefully, she wouldn't be angry enough to slap him, he grinned again. But either way, he had several more rounds of the assault shotgun and one more grenade that he was looking forward to using on monsters before leaving this mansion.


	23. Chapter 20d Along came a spider

Firstly I just want to give a big Yeehaw and dedicate this to Tenchi, who sadly is no longer with us. Thoughts are definitely with his family, especially Jheti who is probably one of the most special people in the world (ID darkslayer84) so to Tenchi.

"I _expect_ this to work, officer", captain Wesker thought out loud, his hopeful confidence displaying itself in his words, all the while placing the tip of a hypodermic inside the contents of a 100 ml beaker.

Extracting the top part of the syringe, he withdrew some of the watery, light green substance within it. Once there, he could finally return his sunglasses to the area in front of his eyes, as opposed to where they had been sitting atop his head. He also had to gently push the apex of the needle, thus squirting a minute amount of the green matter in the air before him, thus ensuring that no air was present within the syringe itself while it was administered.

The man in the shades turned his attention back to the surface of the bed which lay in a corner of the infirmary. Agent Valentine was still sound asleep on it, not having stirred once since he had carried her in here and placed her upon it. A closed door was the only thing that separated this medicine room from the rest of the mansion, so part of his attention had always been on any noise he may have heard from outside, even while he had worked diligently for the last fifteen minutes. 

First, he had to take a sample of the fluid from her arm to see if the wound was poisonous or infected, then diagnose it, and finally put together what he believed to be the proper antidote. The last part had been the most difficult, but at last, he held the fruits of his labour in a needle within his fingers at the moment. He just hoped the remedy he had concocted would work as he expected as it had been many, long years since he had officially worked as a biochemical engineer. So he wasn't completely confident in his ability to act in this field after such a long break. And riding on that same uncertainty in his talent was the life of one of his colleagues. He couldn't afford to fail, though, because even if the antidote didn't end up killing the young woman on the small chance that it was faulty, then the onset of the poison that was swimming within her bloodstream soon would.

With all those thoughts weighing on the RPD captain's mind, he calmly approached the bed that his subordinate lay upon, inhaling and exhaling as he prepared to inject her with the nameless liquid within the syringe. Once he came closer, she stirred for the first time, moaning something incoherent as he took a hold of her arm. Movement was definitely a good sign, making Wesker feel slightly better about the situation, as he wasn't used to playing doctor, especially not in a real-life setting. Just another of Umbrella's damn doings, he angrily pointed out to himself while carefully introducing the antidote to her vein. 

When he was done, he retracted the hypodermic from the reverse side of Valentine's elbow, casually tossing the empty needle aside. He didn't pay any attention to where the syringe landed on the floor, opting instead to turn around and walk away from the unconscious RPD officer. He made his way towards the series of cabinets that were on the opposite side of the rectangular-shaped room and then leaned his upper back against them, remaining on his feet and watching his injured comrade from several yards away. Once there, Wesker instinctively checked the integrity of his blonde hair, making sure no strands were out of place, as he had done for decades now. He then crossed his arms in front of his chest and kept a vigil on agent Valentine's prone figure. If not for the ugly scars that ran through her left upper arm and shoulder, one could easily think that the young woman was simply napping. But, like everything else they touched, Umbrella had ensured that her situation was much worse than that. The RPD captain just hoped that he wouldn't be breaking the bones of White Umbrella executives in memoriam to her later on in his life. He certainly had enough people to name while he was indulging in violence against high-ranking WU members, starting with agent Frost, then agents Sullivan, Dooley, and maybe Ms Warren.

While he was on that subject, he couldn't help but wonder why a mansion and laboratory that carried the most advanced technology on the planet also had an old-fashioned typewriter sitting on the counter of this room. He rubbed his forehead, telling himself it didn't matter. Also, how was everyone else coping in this place? Wesker knew that he possessed a very strict and disciplined mind, and even he was wandering from topic to topic, wasting his time thinking about a useless typewriter. And why was his head throbbing all of a sudden? He had seen more death and violence in the last 24 hours than he had in the last two decades of his job, and had dealt with it just fine, but it was only in the current, peaceful silence that his head was hurting. Strange, he frowned.

The RPD captain shook his head and rubbed it further, involuntarily groaning as the pain got worse, feeling as if someone else had begun digging several fingers into his skull. The image of the inside of the medicine room began to lose clarity, along with the many shelves on the walls, the bed with his slumbering colleague on it, the typewriter. That typewriter was always there, almost looking back at him while he staggered away from the cabinet that he was previously leaning against.

"Jill, what's happening?", he asked out loud, not sure why he thought the Alpha agent would be awake so soon, even if the antidote had worked as he hoped, "Can you hear me??".

Wesker bent his body at the midsection, clutching his head with both hands as the agony in his face and cranium intensified.

"AAAAAAH!", the RPD official dropped to his knees without realizing it, desperately flinging his sunglasses off his face and dropping them on the floor, "I don't... want...".

"Oh, starting to resist now? It's not very becoming", Wesker heard the new words coming out of his own mouth.

They were pronounced with the same voice that belonged to him. He had no problem recognizing the tone as the one that he had used all his life. So why did he feel like he wasn't saying them, but was instead the recipient of that statement?

He was trying to figure out the answer to that question, as well as rubbing his eyes in an attempt to make the mysterious torture stop its assault on his head, when he suddenly quieted down. Wesker breathed in a calm fashion again, smoothly climbing back up to his feet while taking a hold of the sunglasses that rested in front of him. Placing the shades back on his face, he fixed his hair one last time and looked in the direction where agent Valentine still appeared to be napping.

"Pathetic", he chuckled with a shake of his head while approaching the only bed in the room, "And of _all_ the times to be struggling, _now_ he decides to put up a fight instead of rolling over like the vermin that he is? I don't have _time_ to be forcibly removing you from your consciousness, little man".

The captain's left index and middle fingers went underneath Valentine's chin, tilting her head towards the ceiling.

"Maybe I should just kill you now", he addressed the unresponsive agent, "Have you serve as a lesson to him, so he'll know to not waste my time with his childish, but ultimately irritating, resistance. A small note next to your corpse which mentions _why_ you had to die and how blame lies with him".

He placed the same two fingers by the side of her throat, haphazardly realizing that her pulse was stronger. Undoubtedly, the antidote created by his other half was doing its job.

"So you _will_ survive your encounter with our little snake", he continued speaking to her, "Well, Ms Valentine, it appears you may be of some further use to me after all. Then, as much as it pains me to do so, I suppose I should allow you to remain alive, instead. You should serve your purpose to retrieve more of my combat data, and that's more important than any petty revenge, for the time being at least. There are still many more creatures here that need to be viewed".

Smiling at himself, Wesker turned away from the bed and headed towards the door leading out of the medicine room. He reached into his uniform and withdrew all the shotgun shells that his other half had stuffed inside before carrying Valentine over here. Opening the door, he first stopped and intentionally left all the ammunition near the shotgun that was resting near the entryway. It was only afterwards that the uniformed man walked through the doorway and closed it behind him, leaving the unconscious woman inside alone except for the handgun and shotgun to keep her company.

Wesker sighed in slight frustration, wishing he could return to his private lab and watch everyone else through the dozens of cameras that were located all over this place. Playing with his toys would've been good too. Unfortunately, all that had to wait for a future time, as there were more chores to do now. That idiot was only useful when things became painfully boring for him anyway, he thought to himself, as well as being the one he depended upon to do the needed grunt work when the situation called for it.

Besides, when all was said and done, that idiot would make good combat data also, just like everyone else who was running around this maze at the moment.

++++++++++++++++++++++

"You didn't tell me you smoked!", agent Chambers was shocked as she watched her colleague placing the butt of a cigarette between his lips.

It took her a moment to recognize that her voice carried more outrage to it than she wanted. 

"You didn't ask", agent Redfield showed a grin on his face as he was busy bringing a lit lighter towards the stick that the Bravo member was staring at with a mixture of urgency and disgust.

The young man lit the tip of the cigarette before closing the gold-plated lighter and returning it back into his uniform, nestled next to the half-empty pack of menthols. He gently held on to the white cylinder with his left thumb and index finger as he inhaled its contents, all the while keeping his eyes closed. Redfield then withdrew the cigarette from his mouth as he opened his eyes and exhaled a puff of smoke.

"Chris, do you KNOW what that does to your insides?", the young agent was careful to avoid the misty trail of burning ash, not wanting to breathe any of the fumes into herself.

"No, I missed the big Smoking Kills sign that's on the packet", he smiled back, making it obvious that his comment wasn't meant to be an affront, "But yeah, I do. Pretty much what a zombie does when it catches you, right? Just much slower".

"OK, so you do", Chambers placed both hands on her hips, the Beretta lingering in her right fingers as it pointed away from her midsection and towards the floor at an angle, "Then what are you doing, Chris? I mean, the human body, it's frail. Isn't that enough without it being intentionally poisoned with those things?".

"Look, Becca, it's just something to help me calm my nerves, that's all", Redfield took a second puff, "Got into it years ago, been smoking since. Not something I do every day, though. Just when I'm stressed".

A third puff followed as he caught sight of the younger woman shaking her head in a disapproving manner.

"What? Chill out, mom", he gave a cheeky grin, "Why are you so upset over it anyway?".

The Bravo officer wasn't in any position to answer his last question, because her eyes narrowed and her mouth dropped open to its fullest extent at hearing the term he had used to address her.

"I... Um... I...", she stuttered before blushing and looking away, doing her best at pretending to be distracted by the contents of the small room they were in.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much to look at. All the agents had found were a handful of fancy armchairs, an unlit fireplace and a second door that was on the adjacent part of the room, which had already been tested and found to be locked. Thus, Redfield had already made it obvious that his objective, the elusive agent Valentine, wasn't going to be found via that path, so the pair would just have to turn around and go back. Of course, agent Chambers had agreed with his idea. Besides, she was rather lost anyway, and if her partner wanted to head in one direction rather than another while crossing this labyrinth, what point was there in arguing? Plus, she was still his subordinate, no matter how much he acted like they were equals. That meant she shouldn't object unless she had a good reason to, and being lost with no idea of where to go equated to her not having any protests to make.

"Hey! I mean _you're_ the one who's so worried about the welfare of your friends", she turned back to face him with her left index finger pointed towards his face once she accepted that there was nothing here to even pretend to be looking at, "So well why can't _I_ do, well... just the same as that? Just because the danger here is not right now, like lung cancer, instead of in your face at this moment zombie kill type thing? And don't even _try_ to feed me a line about how it's your choice to slowly kill yourself, Chris".

"Oh, for cryin' out loud...", the older officer inhaled and exhaled again, that smirk constantly on his face, prompting his colleague to think it was friendly one moment, then patronizing the next, then back to friendly again.

He sighed after he blew a new wave of smoke out of his mouth.

"You're worse than my sister", Redfield added as he finally took the partly used cigarette out of his mouth and flicked it into the fireplace, "But look, if it'll make you feel better, then I'll make you a deal".

"Which is...?", Chambers patiently waited with her hands back on her hips.

"_If_ we both live to make it out of this mess and survive to see tomorrow, I'll quit, OK?", he pledged.

"I'll hold you to that", the Bravo medic was glad to hear it, allowing herself a grin back.

"You can even be my sponsor whenever the craving takes over. I'll call you for counselling sessions whenever...", agent Redfield began walking towards the only unlocked door to this room, expecting to hear his partner following him.

Except that agent Chambers was not trailing him, her attention fixed away from his general direction. Redfield stopped talking when he realized that she wasn't listening to him, so he turned around and away from the door.

"Becca?", he looked at his immobile partner from behind.

The female agent didn't answer back, opting instead to merely point towards the fireplace with her left index finger. Following her gaze, the young man noticed that the inside of the fireplace itself had started to burn after the lit cigarette stub had been tossed there. That was strange. But what was even more bizarre was that a wooden plaque that hung on the wall and several yards above the fireplace began to smoulder, smoke emanating from all its sides.

"We might want to remove that", Chambers changed from pointing to the fireplace to now pointing at the rectangular tablet, "We don't want this whole place to burn down".

"Yeah, at least not yet...", the Alpha officer trailed off as he pulled the sleeves of both arms towards his hands so as to use the cloth from those sleeves when holding the plaque.

He removed the wooden sign from the wall, feeling the heat it generated through the fabric of his uniform. He was about to casually drop it on one of the chairs and resume leaving the small, seemingly unimportant room when he observed traces being formed on its flat surface. What appeared to initially be a random grouping of lines and patterns soon expanded until it was a detailed map.

"Becca?", Redfield looked up from the plaque, but she had already seen the chart at the same time as him.

"Wow! Look at that!", the Bravo agent stared back and forth between him and the object he held which was cooling off slowly, "I think this is here".

She carefully pointed at one part of the tablet.

"I think this is the balcony where we went, then we came through here, Chris", Chambers outlined the path they had taken on the map, "This is the second floor! Someone here _really_ has an evil genius complex".

Aware that the wooden item was no longer as hot, the Alpha agent drew his hands out from behind the sleeves.

"Evil, yeah. But genius? I think not", he shook his head while motioning for them both to leave this place, "There's only one genius here, Becca, and I _know_ I'm talking to her".

Officer Chambers gave a shy smile as she gripped the Beretta with both hands and followed him from an arm's reach away.

"Thanks, Chris", she continually looked down, hoping she wasn't going red.

She didn't notice Redfield removing the paper surface of the plaque and taking it with him, before haphazardly dropping its wooden perimeter on the floor. But the STARS marksman kept the map in his left hand, quickly studying it to know what pathways were ahead of them both as they left the room to hopefully conduct a more thorough search for everyone else.

++++++++++++++++++++++

"Oh, oh!", Shakahnna's eyes widened when she realized she was self-aware once more, meaning that her mind was no longer in stasis within the vertical tube, but was wandering instead.

She found herself to be standing in a large, rectangular-shaped room that had a collection of three waist-high drums lined up on one side of it. Besides that, though, the redhead couldn't see any other features within this location, or even the exact size of the area, because the entire place was covered in what appeared to be fine, white silk. The substance covered every inch of the floor, ceiling and walls, and was especially thick at the corners. If Shakahnna didn't know better, she would've believed it was all webbing that was done by spiders. But she realized that it could not be so, as the massive covering throughout this area would've required literally millions of spiders to put it all together.

The teenager wondered what kind of environment she had figuratively woken up to. So far, she had experienced two astral projections of past events where she couldn't be seen, and a third that was in the present time where she was at least visible even though she couldn't interact with her surroundings. Hoping for the latter, she proceeded through this room, still trying to figure out its dimensions without much success.

Movement was spotted, from behind and to her left. Shakahnna spun around, reflexively tensing her arms and legs in a fighting stance as she was unsure of who or what to expect. Not that she had much to worry about from that angle, she thought to herself, not when her body couldn't be physically touched. She also hoped it was captain Wesker who found his way here, although there was always the chance that it might've been his purely evil, alter ego instead. Then again, it's not like even the weasel who shared her friend's body could harm her in this state. But also, Shakahnna knew that he could still do damage to her body that was afloat in the cylinder, and he was the only person to know where it was stored. And who knew what else he had planned which was bad enough, without making him angry, if he ended up being able to carry out his plans unopposed. 

Regardless, her hypothetical reasoning came to a halt when she noticed it wasn't either personality that resided within Albert Wesker's body. Instead, the teenager spotted a Hispanic man, dressed in the green STARS uniform with a black vest gillet, as he approached her. She guessed that he was in his early 40's and saw that he was carrying a long rifle whose make she did not recognize in the darkness. She had seen this individual before. The first time, she could now remember, was at the STARS picnic, which was the last time she had seen Chino and most of his friends before being kidnapped. The second time was during her second astral projection, when a team of STARS agents had staggered out of a helicopter after it crash-landed. Now, here he was, and without the crowd of any of the men or one woman who had accompanied him out of the flying machine.

"Heya", the redhead waved, hoping to see him stop as he noticed her movement.

The older man showed no sign of recognizing her effort and merely walked through her, exiting out of her back and continuing his cautious trek through the area.

"Ah... we be being back to this game again", Shakahnna sighed as she turned around and followed him due to the lack of anywhere else to go, "Wonderful".

She quickly saw the inscription on his jacket that read E. Marini. So at least the Hispanic man had a name now. Her train of thought was then ceased by further movement that emerged from ahead of them both. Shakahnna turned her face ahead and found herself freezing in place as her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, though no sound emerged from it. She missed the officer's reaction to the same sight that captivated her in a horrified stance, but he obviously tensed up and said something Spanish under his breath which she assumed to be swearing due to the expletives that were running through her own mind. Along with that, a minute part of her brain also registered the sound of agent Marini's rifle having its safety removed. The older man was ready to open fire.

The only problem was that the redhead was unsure if bullets from a mere firearm could destroy or even slow down the monster who loomed in front of them. That's because a black spider with sporadic red marks over its thorax and legs approached her direction. It was about five feet tall, but at least a dozen feet wide and Shakahnna guessed that it most likely would be about that long from front to end also.

The redhead finally made a sound, gasping out in horror as she almost thought it a blessing that she was not able to have any interaction with her environment, just this once. Or more specifically, that it couldn't have any contact with her.

"What the fuck do you be doing downed here, Wesker?!", the girl half shrieked to herself, knowing full well the other person there wouldn't hear her. 

Even after seeing the zombies and the green-scaled creatures who had hunted for her, she was shocked at this new sight. Coming across this huge arachnid which reminded her of a studio apartment with legs was the equivalent of comparing a punch to the face with a strike to the teeth by a baseball bat.

She heard agent Marini firing, several rounds exiting out if his rifle before they found their mark within the monster's many legs and torso. Maybe the STARS agent had a good aim, as none of his shots missed the target, thus hopefully increasing his chances of leaving this place alive. But then again, it'd be pretty difficult to miss a target that big, she realized.

She couldn't do anything, despite standing there and frantically looking about for ways to help the STARS officer who had the misfortune to come face to face with such an abomination. Maybe to find a place for him to evacuate out of this area safely, or find any natural traps that could be used to kill the fiend. It didn't occur to her that she'd be completely unable to carry out a plan even after it had formulated in her mind. But regardless of her own swearing at the uselessness of being a mute witness, she heard the older man screaming something else in Spanish. Shakahnna turned towards Marini's direction in time to see him rolling aside. It was a fraction of a second before a colourless liquid splashed on the spot that he was standing on, sending a torrent of the substance on the floor after some of it passed through the redhead herself. Looking down at the spot under and next to her feet, Shakahnna saw it sizzling as the liquid ate through the spider's silk before sweltering the concrete floor underneath it. It didn't take her long to grasp that the creature had the ability to use acid as a projectile weapon, and it was doing so at the moment, as if being several feet high and long wasn't bad enough. Marini had been quick enough to dart out of the way of the acid, while she hadn't been. If it wasn't for her current condition, she would've most likely faced another painful death at the hands of the eight-legged monster. But that wasn't a concern for much longer as she returned her attention to the older man since the mutated creature hadn't given up on its attacks against him.

The Bravo agent had barely risen to a standing position when the giant spider dashed forward at a speed that Shakahnna couldn't believe it possessed for an animal that large. It ran at the speed of about ten miles an hour, aiming to intercept the human before he was able to raise his rifle to fire again. It succeeded, slamming into the police officer and sending Marini rolling backwards head over heels for several feet before he landed hard his back.

"Shit! I...", the redhead exclaimed as she instinctively took several steps in the monster's direction before stopping herself due to remembering the incapacitated state she was in.

As far as she could tell, the giant monster didn't have any disadvantages. The benefits of size, strength, natural projectile and even speed were on its side, and it had either not felt the several bullets that Marini fired into its figure, or had felt them but didn't find it necessary to dwell on the mere inconvenience they posed to its body. So Shakahnna felt a dreadful sensation gnawing at the pit of her stomach since she knew that, unless a giant rolled-up newspaper crashed through the high ceiling and crushed the spider as a gift from whatever deity he prayed to, then the RPD officer was definitely doomed. She felt sick and there was nothing she could do about it. 

As expected, the giant arachnid was on top of the human even while Marini was trying to open fire again. Shakahnna could only scream and rush towards him in a useless attempt to intervene, but she merely served as a witness to his likely demise. The monster reared up its ugly head, two large fangs protruding from the inside of its mouth, each of the two teeth appearing very sharp as they were both ten inches long and two inches in diameter. The creature was looking to bite the human through the head or neck, at least as far as the teenager could see. But the STARS officer saw it too, so he jumped backwards just as the two incisors were diving towards his eyes. 

Shakahnna gasped and covered her eyes with both hands, even while keeping a space between her left index and middle fingers to still see the macabre scene in a vain hope that she wouldn't observe what she expected to. At the same time, her voice was drowned out by the man's howl of pain as he hadn't gotten out of the monster's way fast enough. The ill-fated STARS member had avoided being impaled at the head or neck, but the spider's left fang still managed to pierce the middle of this right thigh. Marini instinctively pulled his body back, jerking his injured leg away from the arachnid, but also tearing the wound wider as it still maintained its hold on him. Blood poured out from underneath his leg as well as over the top of it, pooling together beneath his struggling body.

"Shit. Shit. SHIT...", the young woman's voice became more frenzied as the events which were playing out were infinitely grim. 

With a second scream, the officer managed to level his rifle towards the spider's mouth and pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession. The base of the fang broke out of the monster's mouth and it staggered back as Marini fell backwards and landed on the ground, the natural blade still embedded in his thigh. He impulsively gripped the top of the fang in an effort to pull it out of his limb, but didn't have time to complete the task because the giant creepy crawly was trying to capitalize on the situation. The tarantula stampeded towards the human for the second time, quickly closing the gap between them. Upon reaching the spot where Marini was still on the ground, the monster reared its head up again, this time intending to destroy its opponent with one swipe of its right fang. 

Shakahnna held her breath as she readied herself to see the poor man die, knowing she was going to be screaming in a mixture of despair and anger once the inevitable happened. But contrary to her anticipation, Marini didn't stay frozen in place or even pull the trigger on his rifle before being silenced forever. Instead, the older man surprised the teenager by dropping the firearm on the floor and yanking an unseen object out of his uniform. He angrily tossed the dark, metallic sphere into the spider's open mouth and simultaneously flung his body to the left side, rolling on the dirty ground while the monster's fang only met air. The STARS official darted as far and as speedily as he could manage on his hands and knees, not bothering to try to stand back up. He managed to get about six feet away from the monster in the moment he was allowed before the spider had turned its attention back on him. As the arachnid turned in his new direction, ready to pursue its debilitated prey once more, undoubtedly confident that he would tire soon, a fiery explosion ripped out in a horizontal fashion from its rear end.

Shakahnna heard herself gasping by surprise once more as the older man was thrown forward before he landed hard on his stomach. The redhead stared in the creature's direction, now unable to look away from the gruesome scene of the giant arachnid which slumped lifelessly on the ground. Its head, thorax and legs appeared to be fine, but the end of its body carried a hole large enough to squeeze a regular person through. More acid drained out of the opening, spilling on the ground underneath the creature, and then pooling around it once it collapsed on the floor. 

Just like that, no sounds, no screams. The monster was dead on the spot where it had been alive and energetic just a moment ago. It took the redhead a split second to understand that the police officer had tossed a hand grenade into its mouth before distancing himself from it. Her chest rose and fell as a deep sigh escaped her body. Placing her head in her hands, Shakahnna felt a deep sense of remorse. It was satisfying that the man before her had survived, but seeing that giant spider had really shaken her up. 

She eventually had to watch the older man first crawl back towards where his rifle lay on the ground and then use it as a crutch to help himself stand. Agent Marini did his best to balance himself on his left foot while putting together a make-shift tourniquet above the wound on his right leg, and then added a second piece of cloth over the injury itself so as to slow down the bloodflow out of it.

The entire procedure took about a minute, with the man grunting in obvious pain the entire way through. The teenager guessed that he wasn't poisoned, as the monster's fang had come clean out of the other side of his thigh. But the trauma clearly had him in a lot of agony as he couldn't walk well.

She watched him disappearing from her view, feeling bad at her total inability to do anything on his behalf. But she didn't have to think about that for long as she felt herself fading away as he left the large area.


	24. Chapter 20e Chris finds a gray area

  
My thank you list. My aim is to have it bigger than the chapter :D  
  
Todd, Scott, Jimbo: Hey you guys, I know you were only reading cause you be'd friends with himself but I do be glad you are enjoying it. And of course petting my ego is nice too. I'll send cookies and milkshake :)  
  
Jenny: It's in the mail ;)   
  
Kane: Wrestling fan? Well thank you for ALL the reviews you've left me. I have seen you raise a whole ton of points and it's made my day that you picked up on some of that stuff. And of course your e-mails are always excellent.   
  
Joan of Arc: New reader! Hey you, thanks very much! I apperciate all you had to say. I see you are also a fan of that wonderful film, Braindead (deadalive in the US I believe), Hope you be with us for the long haul!  
  
Fenice: This girl is insanely talented. Go view her deviant art folio, like you'll be completely blown away by some of the stuff you see there. Her paintings are completely surreal and outta this world. And hey get your friend over hear reading girlie:)   
  
Hello Captain: "I'm Umbrella's" You are indeed Captain. Just am tempted to say something nice here cause I have a big box of affection for the captain. Thank you *salutes* You make my life be being better just for being in it. And you let me talk about how much I want to fuck Wesker.  
  
enRAGEd: Once again thank you for all your support both in public and private. You are a complete hunny and for anyone whose not been reading this wonderfully talented young authors work then why not? Go forth and review :)  
  
Marathrope: You are delightful. Always smile even before I know what you've sent cause I know it's gonna be all nice. And the fact you like Shak so much means a whole lot to me. Don't worry I think it's safe to assume and no one is gonna be surprised at the fact that she'll be around.  
  
Lioness78: Another new reader! I can't believe you had caught up so quickly but I do recommend that everyone goes and checks out this fine ladies fic as well.   
  
  
  
Peeping Shadow-Monkey: *squeeze* Am glad that I've not lost your attention yet cause you were my first reader and so you are very special. And that chapter was for you anyways cause of the end result and you were pretty vocal about it on IM so you know ;)  
  
Shikhee, Igor, Fay, Sych77, DJ, JT Bruins fan 1, RElady, Iain: Hope that when you people do get to this chapter you be smiley cause wanted to say thank you to y'all (woohoo inbreeding) The continued support makes everything here be that little bit nicer. Reviewers are the best and should we not all be so far away I'd take you out for Hot chocolate. Actually Fay when you get here call me up on that ;)  
  
Peanutbuttersunshine: False.   
  
REfan-66:Even if you do like the movie the comments you have are always so insightful and you pick up things that other people didn't and you know thanks.  
  
Sara Hyuga: A fellow Wesker fan. This girl is grate.  
  
Darren: Ahh an associate of Cleave of Yung, thank you for taking the time to come and review. And give young cleave a dead arm for me :D And since Yung Cleave has been so nice, I shalt plug his site   
  
Christie: Okay so you've not left me reviews BUT just this once wanted to make an exception because well you really have been completely so swell to me and just had to acknowledge that.  
  
  
  
Okay now for the story....  
  
  
  
"Bzzzzz...", the sound was loud enough to grab agent Redfield's attention as he snapped his head around, eagerly combing the area around him in response to the sudden noise.  
  
"That's...", his eyes widened in anticipation as he thought he had heard the sound of a radio, "Is my mind playing tricks here or did you just hear that too? I KNOW it was! It had to be!".  
  
The young man remained tense as he tried to ignore the sound of crickets and the light breeze which threatened to drown out the pleasant surprise he had heard. His eyes darted around, scanning the same area around him twice, but to no avail. The team's first real chance of communicating with the outside world was literally within an ear's shot of him, but this insular hellhole ensured that he was still too far away to get his hands on it.  
  
"Chris, wadda you...", agent Chambers reacted as she couldn't understand what he was searching for, instinctively looking down by her feet while seeking out the object of her partner's current obsession.  
  
"It's a radio!", Redfield exclaimed, quickly quieting down in the hope that he would hear it again, and with any luck, pinpoint its exact location.  
  
Sure enough, another burst of static was heard from a short distance away.  
  
"There, just now!", he repeated, realizing that the source of the noise was emanating from the Bravo officer's direction.  
  
The Alpha agent took a step towards her, noticing that the white noise had actually come from within her uniform. At the same time, officer Chambers reached into her left trousers pocket and withdrew a radio transmitter that was about three inches wide and twice as long, ending with a circular tip that contained a short, protruding antenna.  
  
"Rebeccaaa!" Redfield admonished as he angrily gripped the gadget that was still within her fingers, "You didn't tell me you had this!".  
  
He pulled the metallic device out of her hand and took a step back and away from his partner. He was still looking into her face in a silent pressure for an explanation as far as why she kept something so vital from him. But maintaining the stare into her eyes and seeing her uneasy reaction to his behaviour was enough to result in the firm look on his face quickly fading into a more friendly one.  
  
"Look, sorry, didn't mean to get mad, Becca", he consoled, wanting her to stop feeling worried without having to apologize for snapping.  
  
"It's alright", Chambers waved her left hand away, giving a grin as she relaxed, but only just a bit.  
  
"But you still should've told about you having...", Redfield quieted down as the static ended and a familiar, male voice was heard from the device.  
  
"STARS, Alpha or Bravo teams, it doesn't matter!", the voice that he recognized to be that of agent Vickers continued to ramble a transmission, "It doesn't matter, ANYONE! Is there anybody out there? Please respond!".  
  
Agent Redfield fervently pressed the necessary button before almost screaming back a reply.  
  
"This is Chris Redfield! Brad, come in!".  
  
He didn't hear Chambers calmly calling out his name.  
  
"If you can hear me...", Vickers continued through the radio as if he hadn't heard any replies, then was interrupted by a wave of static himself, "I'm running out of...".  
  
The communications tool went dead in the Alpha agent's hand, so Redfield sighed in frustration and finally allowed himself to look away from it and back to his younger colleague.  
  
"He can't hear you, Chris", Chambers explained even before he had the chance to ask his question, "That's kinda why I never thought to mention it before. It sorta doesn't work except when it comes to receiving signals".  
  
"Agh!", an exasperated Redfield held back the urge to throw the radio transmitter against the ground, opting to simply return it to its previous owner.  
  
"Sorry", the Bravo medic whispered as she accepted it back.  
  
"Don't be. Not your fault it's almost useless", he sighed again, wishing he wasn't feeling as tired as he did.  
  
"Who's Brad? Someone you know from Alpha team?", Chambers saw the look in his eyes that threatened to explode into another monster-beating rampage, so anything to distract him sounded like a good idea to her.  
  
"Only an Alpha member in the _loosest_ sense of the word", Redfield angrily recalled as he checked the safety mechanism on his Beretta yet again, his jaw tensing as he spoke, "Brad chickenheart' Vickers, the guy you can always count on to FLY AWAY when several of his team-mates are knee-high in SHIT!".  
  
So the calming effect she hoped for wasn't occurring just yet.  
  
"You definitely lived up to that goddamn nickname, didn't you, you FUCKER?!", Redfield barked at the night sky above, pointing upwards with both hands, aiming his words at the Alpha helicopter that wasn't there, the right hand pointing the Beretta while the left hand aimed the index finger.  
  
He stopped his screaming rant, making a mental note that it'd make the third time he lost his temper so far. At the rate that he was going, even if he had somehow found his way out if this place, the smoking and the stress would ensure that he'd have a heart attack before he turned thirty.  
  
And looking into agent Chambers' saddened eyes at his reaction, he couldn't help but think that he'd never be with officer Valentine if he died prematurely.  
  
"But wasting energy here isn't gonna help us both, is it?", he added in a more relaxed fashion, deliberately keeping that last thought to himself, "Just remind me to pistol-whip that prick Vickers if I ever get a hold of him again".  
  
"Oh", the younger agent stepped closer towards him as she flashed a wider smile, "Somehow, I don't think you'll be needing my help in remembering that".  
  
"And I'll make sure to save some for you too", the Alpha agent promised as he turned his attention back towards the building that lay ahead of them, "Since _everybody's_ wanting a piece of that bitch for flying off with our only ride and leaving us stranded in this shithole".  
  
"I take it that he's your pilot and he left when things got bad?", Chambers kept her voice casual while beginning her careful march towards the structure at the end of the path.   
  
Both agents eyed the wooden door which rested between two stone columns that, in turn, supported a flat, triangular roof over the lone step towards the entryway. Perhaps that building had been elegant at one point, Chambers quietly thought to herself, but it obviously hadn't seen any maintenance in a very long time.  
  
"You guessed it", Redfield seethed while also making his way down the only path he could follow in the same direction, "Thus the nickname Chickenheart".  
  
The young man reached for the doorknob first, twisted it and, feeling that it was unlocked, slowly pushed the door open as he was careful to keep both himself and his colleague by the side of the entryway only.  
  
"Well, granted it sucks that this Brad guy flew off without his friends...", Chambers squinted to be able to see anything past the doorway.  
  
"We're not his friends, Becca", Redfield interrupted in a lower tone of voice, not wanting to alert anyone or anything that might be inside the structure.  
  
"No, I did get that", the young woman whispered back as she followed him inside the fairly well-lit guardhouse, "But you're mine, right?".  
  
Redfield said nothing at first, opting only to look back in her direction. He saw that she carried an apprehensive expression on her face, even as she was busy replacing the radio back into her uniform pocket.  
  
"Yeah, Becca, I'm yours", he nodded a pair of times before breaking eye contact, "Even if I can't talk about anyone else in Alpha team. But I don't have any doubts that they'll like you too, believe me".  
  
He looked back ahead of him, scouting the area there.  
  
"Why do you ask?", his curiosity demanded, even as he made the question sound like a laid-back one.  
  
"Was just worried that you'd leave _me_ if something worse than one of these zombies showed up and we weren't friends, is all", the Bravo medic admitted, aiming her own Beretta weapon at the empty room ahead also, "After I got separated from Bill...".  
  
Agent Chambers caught herself before she had finished making her statement.  
  
"I mean, from Bravo team", she corrected, "I just don't like being alone, is all. These things become so much more scary when you're solo, gun or no".  
  
She chastised herself for almost slipping up and mentioning Billy Cohen's name, just as she had failed to mention the half-defunct radio in her pocket because it had been that same convict who had given it to her, and not because it didn't work as desired. The recollection of her experiences with the Army lieutenant brought back memories of the giant, ten-foot long crickets that they both had to kill by the handfuls before being allowed to survive their nightmare. It was enough to send yet another involuntary shiver through her body.  
  
"Becca, trust me, OK?", Redfield glanced towards her just long enough to give her a quick smile before returning his attention ahead of them both yet again, "I'm not Vickers. I don't leave you, period".  
  
"For what it's worth, in a twisted way, I'm kinda glad he flew off. Otherwise, I'd still been trapped here on my own, and _then_ who'd help you quit smoking?", she giggled back.  
  
"Any chance those plants there will help with my problem?", Redfield didn't smile back, but she was glad that his voice sounded calm and objective as opposed to being either angry or offended.  
  
The Bravo medic turned her attention towards him as he was approaching three waist-high shelves that rested in a corner of the guardhouse lobby. She saw what was attracting him in that direction because a group of blue herbs were on top of the surface of those same sills.  
  
"Any idea what these blue ones can do, Becca?", the young man whispered as she stepped towards him, his fingers carefully touching the surface of a random plant.  
  
"I can't say that I do, Chris, no", she eagerly copied his action, except that she followed through and began ripping the blue-colored leaves out of their base.  
  
The medic placed those herbs in another section of her uniform, intentionally keeping them separate from the green batch that was already on her person.  
  
"What I _can_ say is that I'll most likely be able to find out what they're used for _if_ I can find me a chemistry lab to run some tests on'em", she followed through.  
  
"I still don't freaking _know_ who's been leaving them all about", the Alpha officer added as he finished a quick visual scan of the current room.  
  
Nothing else that was worthy of interest, so the pair proceeded down the hallway that was to their right.  
  
"So far, I can argue that the more plants we find, the better, Chris", his partner suggested as she followed him into the darker corridor, "Considering what the potential for lifesaving is for the green herbs, it's telling me that there's _some_ things in this place that we can actually use _for_ us, instead of monsters followed by mazes over and over again. And unlike the guns and ammo that keep appearing here and there, this stuff is like gift-wrapped presents, because they're not left here by one of our own".  
  
"Yeah, remind me to execute the inhabitants with a quick bullet to the head that kills them fast instead of one that's aimed for their balls and takes them several hours to croak instead", Redfield thought out loud as they reached the end of the hallway, his attention always ahead of them both, "I suppose even _I_ can be grateful".  
  
Agent Chambers either didn't hear his sardonic statement or, if she did, then she ignored it, opting to look over the three ways they could proceed from there. There was a closed steel door to their right, a red-colored double door straight ahead, and finally a closed single wooden door to their left.  
  
"Do you have a preference?", she asked him without turning her face in his direction.  
  
"Am keeping my thoughts to myself there", the Alpha agent chuckled, scanning his three options at the same time.  
  
He didn't see Chambers rolling her eyes at the comment, so he turned in the way of the metal door in slow, careful steps.  
  
"This one. Simply because it's steel and not wood", he explained.  
  
"How does that convince you?", the medic approached the opposite side of the entryway, her hands back on the pistol, keeping it aimed towards the floor.  
  
"I've always prided myself in picking the choice that makes the least sense. There's always less traffic and competition there", Redfield kept his own Beretta pointed towards the ceiling with a right grip as his left hand twisted the knob to the door.  
  
It was unlocked, so the male STARS member pushed the door open, being irritated that the entryway creaked so much. Redfield held his breath, telling his own heartbeat to please quiet down. The young man's face popped through the open doorway, followed soon by two hands that gripped a 9mm firearm that was ready to kill anything that may cause harm to its owner.  
  
"No movement detected", he finally declared out loud, exhaling as he opened the door further and casually walked inside the room.  
  
The internal space was wooden on the left side and made out of stone on the other. The left half contained a large crate that was in the corner, while the right half had a large, steel shelf with various items on it.  
  
"Check that, Becca?", Redfield pointed towards the shelf as he cautiously tiptoed towards the giant trunk, keeping his weapon on the closed container just in case a living creature was waiting inside it.  
  
The young man lifted the heavy cover with one free hand as he crouched in front of the large box, involuntarily gasping for joy as he saw the content. He didn't hear his partner while she was eagerly gathering items off the shelf because he was grinning while he holstered his handgun. From several feet away, agent Chambers enthusiastically turned back towards him as her own weapon was in her left hand and she held a white, cylinder-shaped spray can with a green cross on it in her right grip. Two other such cans protruded from compartments that were available on the multi-pocketed uniform that she wore on her torso.   
  
"I took a quick whiff of this, Chris", the young woman smiled as she was addressing her partner from his right side, "It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's inside".  
  
No answer from her colleague. He was still staring inside the open trunk like someone who was dying from thirst and who then came face-to-face with a cool glass of water.  
  
"These are the gaseous forms of the herbs themselves. A spray against a wound should definitely undo the damage done by a zombie bite if the victim is found soon enough and...", the medic trailed off, noticing that Redfield wasn't paying attention.  
  
A few seconds of uncomfortable silence followed while agent Chambers wondered what was so interesting about the inside of the trunk. She cleared her throat, and still failed to be noticed. She was about to walk over to him and slap him on the upper back to snap him out of his trance when the young man finally turned his face towards her.  
  
"Becca, I'm sorry to say, that whatever you have, I just upstaged you", the grin remained on his face, indicating he was anything but apologetic as he reached into the container.  
  
Redfield stood back up, carrying a 30-inch long weapon that was a sturdy mixture of metal and powerful plastic. Two cans were attached to its bottom side, one red and the other blue, and its tip had a nozzle. The Alpha agent still wore the smile on his face as he rotated the nozzle, emitting an immobile five-inch long tongue of blue fire that stuck out of the tip of the weapon. So agent Chambers finally understood her colleague's distraction, as the young man had discovered a flamethrower. No wonder his handgun had been given the proverbial backseat.  
  
"Christmas is early this year, Chris?", she grinned as she fit the last of the first aid canisters within her uniform, stuffing it into that pocket because she was running out of space there.  
  
It was only then that she could cross her arms in front of her chest.  
  
"Oh, yeah", he nodded once, "Our chances of surviving this hell on earth keeps getting better".  
  
"Which one of our guys was carrying _that_, though, to leave it behind?", the medic thought out loud, "And why would _anyone_ leave a weapon like that behind in such a hostile place anyway?".  
  
"No one from the RPD or STARS does, and I don't know, Becca", the older officer admitted as his face turned more serious, "It's just another mystery that I can't afford to worry about just now".  
  
"So let's find our ...friends, then?", Chambers tightened her grip on the handgun as she turned around and began heading back out of the room, "Our odds of saving people has increased thanks to this area too".   
  
Both agents had to keep their enthusiasm in check as they emerged from the room, though Chambers suspected that her partner may have secretly felt disappointed that they didn't run into any adversaries to test his new toy on. The medic swiftly checked the knob to the large double doors next, and found that entryway to be locked. She turned her face and locked eyes with her colleague, nonverbally telling him that they couldn't go through it.  
  
"No, Chris, you can't use that thing to burn the door down", she whispered upon recognizing the mischievous look on his face.  
  
"Damn", Redfield gave a sigh of mock disappointment as they proceeded towards the last door there, "And here I thought we could organize a get-together for toasted marshmallows. Humans and freaks alike invited to share their true feelings and open up toge...".  
  
The young man stopped his comical impersonation of an announcement because he had slowly pushed the third, wooden door open. Redfield suddenly became quiet and he heard Chambers gasping while they were both staring at a body that had been hung from the ceiling with a noose. The cadaver gently swung back and forth as both agents kept their wider eyes on it while entering the grisly room. It was only when they were closer to the corpse that they noticed the rope which was wrapped around his neck was originally tied to a wooden beam that supported the ceiling above.  
  
The corpse's eyes were perfect circles, wide in the horrors that strangulation had reaped. Various blood vessels having burst, turning the whites of the eyes into blotched crimson. The area around the rope bloated and swollen, the tongue dangling past the teeth, blackened in sharp contrast to the oxygen-deprived blue of the skin.  
  
"aaaaaaaaaaa...", Chambers began moaning to herself as her eyes remained fixed on the hung male.  
  
Redfield didn't think to console her, opting instead to carefully walk past the corpse and examine the rest of the dark space, starting with the bed that was near it. He had to be certain that no one and nothing was hiding underneath the bed, but before he could do so, he heard his partner getting steadily louder.  
  
"...aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAHH!", the Bravo medic began screaming as she placed her left palm over her mouth in an unsuccessful effort to remain silent.  
  
"Becca, no! Becca!", Redfield rushed back to her side, keeping the flamethrower in his right grip while simultaneously placing his left arm around her shoulder.  
  
The younger agent thankfully quieted down, opting to pant loudly instead.  
  
"I just... Just wasn't expecting... _That_", she intentionally looked towards the floor while blindly pointing towards the vertical body with her left index finger.  
  
"I know. Fucking hell. It's worse because it's the sort of thing that one worries about more at night, isn't it? It's a lot less surreal", Redfield kept his free arm around her as he turned back to look deeper within the room.  
  
It was several moments later that Chambers calmed back down, her breathing relaxed into a stable rhythm, which was her partner's chance to speak up.  
  
"Are you feeling OK? Can you help me look for the others, Becca?", Redfield's voice was barely a whisper as he looked back down at her face.  
  
She nodded several times quietly, pinching her nose with her left thumb and index finger before drying both her eyes with her left wrist.  
  
"Just keep thinking of our plans to level this goddamn place, OK?", the older man soothed as best as he could, "We leave, get bulldozers, come back to destroy everything. This lousy place gets eradicated off the face of the earth. No nightmares for us, no nothing, I swear".  
  
"Right, right, I'm OK", Chambers sniffled while gripping the weapon with both hands, "Let's keep searching and destroying".   
  
She was desperately trying to avoid making any kind of visual contact with the hanging body, inwardly cringing at the thought of having to brush by it when heading deeper into the bedroom. And for the most part, she succeeded in not appearing as scared as she felt.  
  
"The bed first", the Alpha agent advised, taking his left arm back from her shoulders and casually gripping the flamethrower with only it.  
  
Upon her quick approval, he withdrew his Beretta with his right hand and stalked towards the bed. The officer placed the unused flamethrower against the nearest wall and gripped the bottom of the bed with the left hand before swiftly laying down on his stomach next to it. The young man pointed his right arm towards the underside of the bed, scanning whatever might've been there with the muzzle of his handgun. Finding nothing under the bed, Redfield exhaled and stood back up.  
  
"Something behind you, Chris", Chambers pointed past him with her left hand.  
  
The mostly composed demeanour on her part was enough to indicate to him that she wasn't talking about a monster, so the Alpha officer didn't feel the need to spin around. Instead, he calmly turned to see that his partner's extended arm was directing him to a desk situated against the wall that was several feet away. He didn't mind her staying immobile and in place while he proceeded towards the desk to see what was so important about it. On the surface of the desk itself, the young man noticed a page-long loose sheet of white paper that had several lines of handwritten words on it.   
  
Redfield took a hold of the note and his face reflexively went up towards the wall that was behind the desk. It was much too dark to be reading or writing anything in the current state of illumination that the area was in. He doubted that whoever was hanging from the ceiling had possibly written his last will and testament in the dark. So sure enough, he spotted a light switch that was within an arm's reach of his current position. The STARS agent flicked the switch on, momentarily squinting his eyes as ugly, dark yellow light flooded the room from a single lamp that was near the vertical body. He began to read the content of the handwritten note even as he began walking back towards his partner.  
  
"June 22nd, 1998", the young man spoke out loud while nearing Chambers, "I had to do it. We ran from those things, helping each other to survive. But Robert started to show the symptoms. I had to do it. Those damn things are pure evil".  
  
He stopped reading long enough to look back into his colleague's eyes.  
  
"He's right about that part, at least", Redfield commented to himself as much as to her, "In a world that's supposed to be full of grey without any black or white, _this_ situation, at least, is all black".  
  
He looked back down at his note once he was finished addressing her so as to continue reading.  
  
"There was no other way", he continued reciting the contents of the letter, "He would have done the same if it were the other way around. After I put him out of his misery, I had to just leave him in the bathroom. Now I'm probably the last one. How could this happen? I'll never forgive myself for being part of this project. Eventually I'll get what's coming to me, though. There's no way to escape from this nut house. It's just a matter of time now. Everything is set. All I need is a little courage to get it done. Knowing that I'll leave many things undone is regret beyond words. But, this is better than just waiting to turn into one of them. Please understand and at least let me end my life as a person".  
  
Agent Redfield sighed loudly as he finished reading the note. He looked from it back up to Chambers first, then up higher to the body that was no longer swaying slightly from the ceiling.  
  
"Well, whoever you are, too bad you never got to turn state's witness", he sighed a second time before locking eyes with his colleague yet again, "Like this damn job wasn't hard enough. Now I gotta worry about feeling _bad_ for some of the morons who were taking part in creating this hellhole".  
  
"There's a message on the back, Chris", the younger woman pointed out.  
  
"Oh, right", Redfield turned the letter around, "Linda, please forgive me".  
  
"Who's Linda, Chris?", Chambers asked him.  
  
"No, no, I'm not saying that, Becca. That's what's written on the back", he couldn't avoid smiling.  
  
"Oh, um sorry", she reprimanded herself with a grin of her own, "Look, there's another room over there, it might be that bathroom. Let's go check that out?".  
  
"Definitely, but first things first", the Alpha marksman went back to the writing table that was the sole furniture in the room besides the bed.  
  
He informally dropped the letter on the desk and began pulling open the four drawers that were attached to it. The officer quickly rummaged through the contents of each drawer, but found nothing especially interesting within them.  
  
"Just pens, papers, paperclips, garbage", he commented as he turned away from the furnishing.  
  
Redfield then tossed aside the blanket and pillows that were on top of the bed, just in case something useful might've been underneath them. He was disappointed to find nothing, having gotten a bit too used to the concept of coming across various weaponry and medicinal aides on a regular basis.  
  
"OK, let's go check out the other room", he resolved with a nod of the head.  
  
Both STARS officers pointed a handgun each through the new doorway that brought some amount of light from the previous room through it. Redfield's fairly muscular arm and Chambers' leaner one jutted out of the entry to what turned out to be a bathroom, with the pistol aiming several inches past their hand. Redfield's free hand crept up the wall next to him and eventually found a second lightswitch. Turning that on, a white neon radiance glowed through the smaller area, this one being thankfully easier on the eyes. The tension in Chambers' figure revealed her increased anxiety as they both spotted a motionless zombie who had been shot in the stomach before falling flat on his back in front of the bathtub.  
  
"You think it's dead, Chris?", she uttered first as they began walking into the bathroom.  
  
"We can spend one round to ensure that it always remains that way, if you want", he commented, his weapon always trained on the fallen creature.  
  
"Oh, I want, really, trust me", she quickly replied.  
  
"One dead zombie, coming u...", Redfield's proclamation was disrupted when the monster moaned and smoothly rose up to its feet.  
  
"Oh, shit", Chambers tensed her body even further as she trained her weapon towards the monster's torso.  
  
The creature stared at them with its glassy eyes, both its arms extended in Redfield's direction as it began staggering towards him and ignored the Bravo medic as if she wasn't there.  
  
"Don't sweat it, Becca", the young man reassured as the two-legged abomination came closer to him, "Save your bullets, too. I got this. And lastly, cover your head".  
  
His confidence turned out to be appropriate because he pulled the trigger on his weapon once and a bullet burst out of the muzzle of the handgun before entering the zombie between its eyes. Its head exploded in a burst of blood and bone matter, some of which sprayed over agent Chambers' uniform and face, reminding her why her colleague had suggested that she should cover it.  
  
Oddly enough, none of the gore reached agent Redfield, even though he was standing as close to it as she had been. She made a mental note to ask him how he managed to do that later. But for now, she looked around for a towel or some tissues, or anything to wipe the dirty blood off her face, at least, not paying any attention to the decapitated zombie which crumpled in front of the bathtub.  
  
Nothing useful around the sink, or the bathtub, or anywhere else in the entire bathroom.  
  
"What kind of a bathroom doesn't have any _towels_?", Agent Chambers sighed in exasperation.   
  
"Hmm...", Redfield visually scanned the small room, paying close attention to the miniature shelves that sat above the sink and below the mirror on the wall.  
  
Finding nothing useful, whether it be something for their survival or an object to wipe the gore off his partner's face, the young man relaxed and addressed her again.  
  
"The kind that's in _this_ place", he went on, "Come on, Becca. You can just use the blanket that's on the bed, maybe?".  
  
"Yeah I guess, sure, that works", she told him, finding out that the back of her hands made a poor tool for the task of wiping blood and brain matter off.  
  
"At least we know what happened to Robert", Redfield sighed as he followed her back into the bedroom.  
  
The medic was busy eagerly cleaning the blood off her upper body, happy to leave the dirtied blankets behind in the room once she was done. It took her the better part of a minute to have most of the disgusting residue off her figure, though the smell remained even after the dirty red marks were gone for the most part. She was considering the option of returning to the bathroom and finding some kind of soap to give herself an impromptu washing, even if it meant slowing their search of other people by a few minutes. Anything to get that awful smell to stop following her, as long as Redfield would agree to her request, which she was reasonably sure he would. Besides, he'd probably be happy to stand guard outside the bathroom door, flamethrower at the ready. Anything to give him a chance to play with the large weapon, at least it seemed. So agent Chambers hastily tossed the stained blanket back onto the surface of the bed, turning towards her partner's direction to begin asking the question that had formed in her mind.   
  
"Chris, do you mind if...", she trailed off, something having caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.  
  
The younger officer turned her head in that area, wondering what it was that stood out of place. She quickly noticed that it was a manilla-coloured notebook which was resting on the surface of the bed, about ten inches long and eight inches wide. The colour of the notebook was almost the same as that of the worn-out bedsheets, which Chambers guessed was the reason why her partner hadn't spotted it when he casually inspected the bed for anything useful earlier.  
  
"Hey, Chris, check this out", she temporarily forgot about her unhygienic state, pointing towards the notebook with her freed left hand.  
  
"What you found?", the Alpha agent approached her position, the flamethrower already back in a rested position in front of his torso.  
  
"Dunno, a book?", the medic holstered her Beretta as she scooped up the item, enthusiastically opening it towards the first page.  
  
Both STARS officers saw several hand-written pages that seemed to be written down in a more relaxed fashion, as opposed to the anxious manner that was used to write the suicide note.  
  
"Wo! This is definitely longer than a mere page, Chris", Chambers pointed out as her fingers leafed through the 30-odd pages of notes, most of which were just various compounds and equations that she suspected Redfield wouldn't understand even if they made sense to her.  
  
She finally came upon two pages that resembled a diary rather than a chemist's log book.  
  
"It says it's a Plant 42 Report", she informed her older colleague.  
  
"Why 42? Jovially named so because that's the number of casualties it caused so far?", Redfield chuckled, not appearing interested to hear about the mansion's plantlife when live animals were running around looking for them.  
  
"I shouldn't be surprised that these wackos wanted to experiment on plants too, I suppose", Chambers commented as she sat down on the edge of the bed, careful to avoid coming within an arm's reach of the hanging corpse.  
  
"Four days have passed since the accident", she began reading the contents of the journals as Redfield casually sat down nearby, "The plant at Point 42 is growing at an amazing rate. Although there are many unknown aspects about this plant, we know that in comparison with the other group of plants, the T-Virus has had a substantially stronger effect on this one. The T-Virus has drastically morphed its host's anatomy as well as its size. Looking at its current state, it's difficult to imagine its original appearance. Nowhere on Earth will you find anything like it".  
  
"Hey guys! I invented something that's so deadly that it doesn't exist on the face of the planet!", Redfield commented while looking away from his partner and addressing the wall in a mock imitation of the scientist who had written that excerpt, "Wadda you say we spread it all around? I don't think there's enough pain and death in this world as it is, so _this_ should bring up the levels of misery for _all_ the world's inhabitants".  
  
"Yeah, pretty much", Chambers grinned at his impression before resuming her attempt to read the scientist's handwriting, "We've also found that Plant 42 has two main sources of acquiring its necessary nutrients. One source is through its root. Somehow, it has rooted itself down into the basement. Immediately after the accident, a scientist went mad and destroyed the Aqua Ring. Ever since, the basement has been like a pool. There is a high possibility that it's one of the chemicals in the water that's promoting the Plant 42's rapid growth. However, we have yet to determine the specific chemical. A bulb-like body of this plant has been sighted hanging from the ceiling of the first floor. We are sure that it used the air ducts to reach the first floor. Numerous long tentacle-like vines are protruding from the bulb. We believe the vines are the second means of acquiring its nutrients. When the plant senses prey, it uses the tentacle-like vines to capture its prey. After doing so, suckers on the vine drain the prey of its blood".  
  
The Bravo medic stopped reading even though it wasn't the end of the entry.  
  
"Oh dear. We have a giant person-eating venus flytrap somewhere in this house", she remarked without looking up from the journal.  
  
"That idea of coming back with bulldozers keeps getting better with every passing hour", Redfield stated while still looking up towards the wall that was past the vertical body, the flamethrower seated on his lap as he was leaning backwards on his knuckles.  
  
"We've also noticed that it has some intelligence", Chambers resumed reading, "Oh, no. Don't tell me that. _Please_ don't tell me that. When it captures its prey or when it's inactive, the vines twine around the door to stop possible intruders. Unfortunately, several of our scientists have already fallen victim to this Plant 42. When we heard the stories from the survivors, they all observed one thing in common: When the uniform petal-like flaps open and reveal its vital internals, it has a tendency to become more aggressive. One witness reported that it was as if it was trying to protect itself. Why it behaves the way it does is still unknown. May 21, 1998. Signed, Henry Sarton".  
  
"So it eats _people_, huh?", Redfield finally sat back up on the edge of the mattress, looking back into her eyes again, "All things considered, I suppose it's not really a surprise, not when you consider that it's what EVERYTHING here eats".  
  
"Yeah, and apparently your theory as to the origin of its suffix number may not be all that exaggerated, Chris", Chambers placed the notebook within her uniform before she summarily withdrew her handgun.  
  
"So, we ready to move out, Becca?", Redfield was already on his feet before he had finished asking his question.  
  
"Absolutely, Chris", she stood back up in her own turn, "I just hope that you... I mean, our friends didn't wipe out _all_ the monsters by now and some freaks are left for _us_ to waste".  
  
"If only that was our problem", the Alpha agent grinned as they headed towards the door leading out of this bedroom.  
  
Redfield carefully stalked out of the room and into the darker hallway, leaving the bedroom light on behind the pair of officers. They kept the door open and used the small amount of yellow light to illuminate the hallway as they made their way back towards where they had come from. It was only then that Chambers remembered her earlier desire to find some soap and wash off the remnants of the filth that was still clinging to her.  
  
"You OK, Becca?", Redfield whispered in a more hushed tone.  
  
"Yeah, it's nothing worth mentioning", she changed her mind about her request to slow down their search, "Let's just not stay here".  
  
  
  
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	25. Chapter 20f Maneater

Okies,   
  
For the captain :) Probably my most loyal fan to date, you've always been insanely supportive of everything I have done, especially this. Not to mention entertaining, most of the times when I've laughed until I cried have been with this girl. Am extremely lucky to have her in my life, so captain... thank you :) Also if you see a Violet and Shakahnna id on here that is us. Joint projects will start appearing shortly.   
  
I would like to thank the following people for reviewing   
  
CassSpaz - Better than Jesus huh? Can't pretend that isn't extremely flattering girlie. I hope to be seeing a new chapter of KK soon. Which you guys should also go read cause there might be a certain red head appearing. Biting and licking galore.   
  
Enraged - Now if any of you have any free time at all then you MUST and I mean MUST under pain of death go and read Cut My Wings, am a little bit biased but you might see some familiar faces if you keep reading. Which you will, currently this story is my favourite on the site. Also thank you for your indepth reviews. I adore how you seem to analyize the story on all levels and thanks for being there :)   
  
Johnny Tai - Am more pleased than usually to see you returning, as for   
people getting hungry, give me some time on that one ;) Can definitely concur that all that time running about you'd have the worst case of the munchies ever.  
  
Corpastie - Just for you ....   
  
Concusion - Am glad you enjoyed it.   
  
Kegmaster Chen - Sorry in advance... I am gonna make Chris a socialist just to spite you.   
  
Iain - I think if you told Shak she was cute, she might bite you :)   
  
JCarleton - Thank you for your repeated support even if the hypnosis didn't work.   
  
Binx! - Like wow thanks girlfriend. You are so totally bi-polar antisocial!   
  
ScreamingEagle - Glad to see you are still with us.   
  
Alucard 12b - Yeah I love Jill as well and it's always good to see her kick arse and take names. She's definitely at her best when she's tough as nails.   
  
Wesker's Chick - Wesker is indeed swell, kingly even one might say.   
  
Kane - Oh you KNOW I do.   
  
Todd, Jimbo - Having you as a fanboy is ace. A confrontation? There just might be one some time soon. But only maybe.   
  
Lioness - Rebecca is definitely a sweetheart.   
  
Mondo - Was really pleased to see all the stuff you pointed out in your reviews,and thanks to Shady for introducing us.   
  
Tsunami-Aoi - Oh don't stress about that, am just glad you are still reading so thank you for continuing.   
  
Jenny - I mainly try and avoid getting wet but damn socks are the WORST!!!!   
  
And before I completely ruin my rep as a bitch... the next chapter. Thank you all.   
  
-----   
  
Shakahnna looked down before recognizing her own hands, happy to be self-aware and to have the ability to use her arms and legs. The green sleeveless top and black trousers she was wearing were completely dry, not a trace of water on them, which led her to believe that this was yet another hallucination of the past. That was as opposed to an astral projection during the present time like when she was seen by captain Wesker and was still dripping wet from the inside of the cylinder. But due to the casual clothes she had on now instead of the soaked, white lab coat, she knew that what she was currently witnessing was merely a recollection of the past.   
  
So much for trying to contact anyone she saw via her non-existent knowledge of sign language, then.   
  
The redhead looked around, trying to remember if her present environment appeared familiar. It didn't, as she found herself within a computer lab that had over a dozen different monitors, printers and miscellaneous television screens, each of which showed a different room or hallway within them. There was only one person there, and he was alone without being accosted by either zombies or animals. The teenager didn't need any time to recognize him as the older man who had gone up against and destroyed the gigantic black spider from her earlier apparition.   
  
"Maybe he be's OK", she commented to herself as she looked him over, hoping that the injury caused by the huge spider hadn't hurt him as much as it had first appeared.   
  
The unfortunate officer was clearly in pain, though, the wound he received into his right thigh still hurting him immensely as he hadn't found any real medical attention for it. Instead, the man whose nametag identified him as agent Marini had merely placed a tight tourniquet a few inches above the injury in his leg to slow down the flow of blood towards the gaping hole. In addition, he had folded a thick piece of cloth and wrapped it directly over the wound itself as a second barrier to keep his blood loss to a minimum.   
  
Despite all his efforts, however, he was obviously still in a bad way and fatigue was showing on his features. The cloth that covered his injury, and with it most of the right half of his trousers, was already drenched in sticky, brown blood stains. Not surprisingly, the STARS officer favoured his left leg while walking, dragging the sore right leg after him while sporadically using his rifle to support his weight against the floor.   
  
"False", Shakahnna sighed as she realized just how injured the older man was, and feeling stupid for expecting him to be in a better condition.   
  
At the current time, Marini had stopped and was busy sifting through several files and miscellaneous pieces of paper that were on a tabletop. While he did, Shakahnna looked around, visually combing her surroundings for the second time, but now wondering if this place had any familiarity with her after all. Could it have been the same lab where her body was being held in a vertical cryogenic tube? And if so, why didn't she recognize it earlier?   
  
Either way, the cylinders that held her and many other nonhuman creatures weren't anywhere she could spot. And considering that she was still hallucinating about the past and taking part in infrequent witnessings of present events, it was apparent that the brave man who was in front of her now hadn't found her cylinder even if he had been close to the location where she was held prisoner. Otherwise, the redhead was sure that the STARS agent would've destroyed the cryogenic tube and woken her up in the process. Unless, of course, he had succeeded in finding her but had been killed before being able to free her, that is. The thought was enough to make Shakahnna even more anxious even if she didn't personally know this man, prompting her to swallow a lump in her throat. After all, whether she knew him or not, he was stuck in this place just like she was, so it inevitably brought an affinity with him. Plus, whatever his ranking with the STARS may have been, the older man obviously didn't know about Wesker's two personalities, seeing as to how captain Wesker hadn't been removed from duty. Thus, if he had found his way into the lab that held her, he might've come across the monster who wore Wesker's face, but still believed that he was merely interacting with the RPD captain. If so, then Wesker's evil half would've had no problem disposing of him since all he'd have to do would be to wait for the unfortunate Marini to casually turn his back to whom he believed was a trustworthy colleague.   
  
"I really hopes you don't didn't be running into either of them", Shakahnna sighed as she rubbed her face with her left palm.   
  
Just then, the older man she was addressing slammed his fist against the surface of the table, clearly angered by something he read on those sheets of paper.   
  
"Cual la COGIDA es esta?!", Marini exclaimed as he threw some of the pieces of paper towards the floor.   
  
Shakahnna didn't understand what he was saying, though she suspected he was still speaking in Spanish, and that the word 'cogida' might've been the Spanish equivalent of 'fuck' or 'hell'.   
  
"What be's the matter?", the teenager addressed him, feeling concerned and without remembering that he couldn't hear or see her.   
  
The STARS agent limped away from the disorganized mess he had created on the table, staggering towards another desk that was in front of a large, square-shaped screen. Once there, he took a hold of a remote control that had been lying somewhere Shakahnna couldn't see and pressed a button. In response to his action, a black and white image of a dog appeared on the screen, along with some inscriptions that were too small for the redhead to read from the distance where she stood.   
  
"Usted bastardos traidores! Usted pagar esto!", Marini yelled, barely able to contain his rage as he pressed on the same remote control button.   
  
The image of what the teenager recognized to be a zombie appeared on the screen next, prompting Shakahnna to remember her first, ill-fated meeting with those creatures. Maybe Marini was beginning to find out the dark secrets that this place held, the teenager reasoned to herself as she began walking towards him. As a best case scenario, perhaps the older STARS agent had even discovered something about captain Wesker and now knew that his colleague had something to do with this nightmare.   
  
By the time the redhead reached the place where Marini swayed, he was busy looking at a third picture on the projectile screen. Rather than casually skipping this giant photograph, the older man was keenly reading whatever was written next to the image of a cross between a fly and a person, one that carried a skeletal head. Shakahnna stood in place also, noticing that the caption informed them both that the strange, monstrous creature was called a Chimera. The redhead recognized the name as that of a mythical creature, but that's all she knew about it, and she was pretty sure that such an animal wasn't supposed to exist.   
  
Shakahnna sighed to herself, thinking that neither were zombies, but she already knew that they did existed all too well. Marini then clicked on the button again to access a fourth picture, this one depicting an image of the green-skinned gorilla-type monsters that the teenager remembered having fought with before the shadow-man had held her captive. While the officer was curiously reading its official name and basic description, the young woman found her attention being diverted towards the spot where Marini had found something that had enraged him a short time ago.   
  
Walking back towards the area where the older man was previously standing, Shakahnna first crouched down to pick up some of the papers he had tossed on the floor. It was only after her fingers passed through the loose leafs that she remembered the extremely annoying fact that she couldn't touch anything here. So she had to remain crouched in that spot if she wanted to read what was on the page that Marini had found to be so distasteful.   
  
"Blah, blah, technobabble, jargon...", the redhead began reading the top part of the sheet of paper, not understanding any of the technical terms she came across, "What the fuck does that be meaning and why in the world was he so offended abou...".   
  
Shakahnna stopped thinking out loud when she finally realized what it was that had angered agent Marini so much.   
  
"STARS Alpha and Bravo team combat data, issued for Brad Vickers?", the teenager read the words aloud, finally understanding the full extent of the occurrences that she was witnessing, "Performance against cerberus, carrier, chimera, hunter, neptune, tarantula, black tiger, snake, plant 42, tyrant. Performances of said monsters against STARS-issue service firearm, shotgun, flamethrower, grenade launcher. Does this be's what I think it be's?".   
  
Shakahnna continued reading towards the bottom part of the page, having come across hand-written words rather than typed ones like the sentences so far.   
  
"Weapons left in strategic places, cameras operational", she read out loud.   
  
Looking around while still in a crouched position, the teenager saw that the other pieces of paper were almost exactly the same as this first one, except that the name printed on them was different. The second sheet was for a man called Barry Burton, the third for a woman whose first name was Rebecca but whose last name was covered by Burton's sheet.   
  
The redhead anxiously flicked her hair aside while standing back up to her full height and turning back towards Marini's position. The older man had his back to her while looking over the image of something called a Tyrant. She vaguely recalled some of Wesker's insane babblings about a creature with that same name, and the picture of the giant with the single clawed hand appeared to be familiar to her, but she couldn't quite remember from where.   
  
"Weskie did all this, didn't he? Oh dear, Weskie", the young woman sighed, "More of your fun and games. Luring all these peoples here to be watching them die for stats about your stoopid monsters. I should've known you were capable of this. But if you left them guns and flamethrowers and stuff, what makes you think that they won't make the monsters be dead with them? Unless...".   
  
Shakahnna stopped her brainstorming as the truth became even clearer.   
  
"Unless whatever you have living here that you're so desperate for stats on can't be killed, not even with a grenade launcher", she felt her mouth drying as she finished that last statement.   
  
If that was the case, then Marini and all the other agents here definitely had no chance of leaving alive once Wesker's pride and joy was released. But what in the world could survive being struck with a flamethrower or a grenade launcher, she asked herself. Regardless of how tough a zombie might've been, no living creature could withstand being hit with such powerful weaponry, at least not any creatures that she knew of.   
  
The process of trying to imagine what kind of monster could get past a grenade launcher and still kill the police officers who were lured here was enough to stress Shakahnna to the point where she felt her mental grip waning. The redhead sensed that she was fading from this particular hallucination as her vision became more clouded and her voice was no longer as clear.   
  
"Oh, fucking hell!", she exclaimed to herself, "I don't wanna be going!".   
  
The last thing she saw was agent Marini still balancing himself on his left foot while he looked at the image of the tyrant.   
  
"Marini, be caref...", the teenager extended her left hand towards him as the scene dissipated in front of her eyes.   
  
Her entire world returned to its previous state of unconsciousness before she could finish the sentence.   
  
"In here, in here!", agent Redfield exclaimed as he gripped the knob to the wooden door that was in front of him and turned it.   
  
The doorknob twisted without much effort, prompting the young man to pull the door open as a buzzing sound which emanated from the hallway behind him continued coming closer. Partially turning his attention in that direction, he nonverbally indicated to agent Chambers to quickly make her way into the room first, which the younger woman did without needing a second invitation. Neither officer checked for the presence of any dangers or enemies in the well-lit room that waited in front of them, choosing to forgo their usual wariness when going through an entryway.   
  
Once the Bravo medic had dashed through the doorway, Redfield followed close behind her and instinctively grabbed the knob on the other side of the door with his free hand. He should've slammed the door shut at that instant, but morbid curiosity prompted him to stand in place and simply look towards the end of the hallway that they had just run from.   
  
Several yards behind them and always closing in fast, a group of approximately twenty abnormally gigantic wasps were flying towards the two humans. Each insect was about five inches long and three inches wide, carrying a two-inch, lethal-looking stinger at the end of its body, and appearing very eager to use it on the two intruders.   
  
Redfield kept gripping the doorknob and looked at his pursuers for a moment, then two moments, then four, before his partner finally brought him out of the daze that staring at the aggressive wasps was causing in his mind.   
  
"Chris, close it!", agent Chambers shrieked as the group of virus-infected bugs flew towards the open doorway, inducing her to place her left palm against the surface of the door in an effort to shut it.   
  
The Alpha agent swiftly shook his head at the interruption, realizing the mistake he had committed while admiring the sinister beauty that these wasps carried. He shoved his weight against the door also, coupled with his partner's push, and finally slammed the door shut behind them. Some of the flying creatures who were pursuing them ended up crashing against the door surface, unable to punch a hole in it. There, they all hovered in midair on the other side of the barricade, buzzing with ever increasing ferocity and clearly indicating to the two officers that the way back into the corridor wasn't accessible for them any more.   
  
"That was... close", Chambers sighed while brushing stale sweat off her forehead with her left sleeve, "And it's not that I mind you looking at them, Chris, but maybe, well, we should really leave that for a later time when they can't hurt us because they are locked away".   
  
Her tone didn't carry any of the anger or annoyance that the older man thought she was entitled to feel, so Redfield felt grateful without saying so out loud.   
  
"Yeah, sorry, don't know what came ov...", was all he got to utter while turning back in her direction before a noise interrupted him.   
  
The new buzzing sound wasn't as loud as the collective one that was gathered outside the room, but it was much clearer. Both STARS agents instinctively turned their face towards the ceiling because that's where the new noise had originated from. Neither agent breathed as they spotted a lone flying bug who had made it through the closing doorway before the barricade had been sealed off to its companions.   
  
Without any further warnings, the insect attacked, swooping down towards the male officer while it curved its body in a half-circular position so its stinger was aimed in his direction. The Alpha agent didn't have time to scream as he reflexively raised his two arms towards his attacker, and with them the lit flamethrower which he had returned to gripping with both hands once the door had been shut. Somewhere else in the room, he heard his younger colleague screaming "NO!" as Chambers raised her Beretta pistol and fired twice in an effort to kill the miniature monster before it could hurt him. Both rounds that exited the medic's handgun missed the flying attacker as it dove towards her partner's face. But the next thing the wasp saw was a huge burst of orange and yellow fire that shot out of the Alpha agent's weapon, intercepting the flying bug before it could reach its victim and then burning the ceiling that was above it.   
  
Redfield promptly let go of the trigger, shutting down the torrent of fire that had burst out of his more powerful firearm and charred the upper part of the room. It was only after he turned the flamethrower off completely, even shutting off the small tongue of fire that waited at its tip, that he spotted the barbequed remains of the wasp that flopped on the carpeted floor and remained immobile there.   
  
"Oh! Sorry I missed it, Chris!" Chambers exhaled loudly as the danger was finished as suddenly as it had begun, "Are you OK?".   
  
"Yeah. And you're sorry?", he replied, grinning at the unfairness she was displaying in his favour and against herself, "You're not the one who went 'hey look, there's a key there on that table, let's pick it up, I'm sure it's not connected to that fucking wasp's nest that's hanging overhead'. And let's not forget about just standing at the open door like a fucking frozen mannequin just now".   
  
"I'll keep it a secret if you will", she was back to grinning as she rubbed the short mop at the top of her head.   
  
"Don't sweat it", he reassured as he came closer and held on to the flamethrower with the left hand so as to give her a light pat on the arms with the other, "Even if you didn't, my only family left doesn't judge me by my job, my current job doesn't care what I do as long as I don't leave any marks on suspects. And as for my former job, well, they can all go to hell".   
  
Chambers wasn't sure why, but the Alpha agent's face tightened slightly at the mention of his previous employer. It was almost as if Redfield had spent an instant in a world of his own without seeing her. The anger that abruptly appeared on his face was evidence that he suddenly dredged up a very bad memory from his past, one that he hadn't made peace with yet.   
  
"Chris?", Chambers spoke up, feeling more uncomfortable with breaking up his trance this second time.   
  
Fortunately, her partner appeared to snap out of his recollection with a slight shake of his head.   
  
"Uh, sorry, sorry", he apologized as he looked away towards the rest of the room, realizing for the first time that they had done no reconnaissance at all, "All that shit is old history now. Doesn't really matter".   
  
The STARS agent first spotted a large bookcase that was full of volumes and textbooks, and resting against the wall on the other side of the room. Near it was a green vine that emerged from the ceiling, ran parallel to the bookcase in a vertical line, and then disappeared through a hole in the floor. There was also an unused bed in the windowless area, and the only other interesting aspect in that place was the presence of dozens of moths that were fluttering around the vine as well as the sole halogen lightbulb that shone from the ceiling. But unlike the wasps who were still patrolling the hallway outside the room, these moths paid no attention to the humans who had invaded their space. And even if they did, they were only regular-sized moths anyway, as opposed to the virus-infected, huge variety of every creature that the officers had come across so far.   
  
There was no other way out of this room except for the door they had used to come inside, so Redfield began wondering about their predicament as he paced the floor.   
  
"I don't think it doesn't matter, well, not if it's making you upset", Chambers brought him out of his thoughts, "Once we're out of here, if you'd like to talk about whatever that was that had you this angry, well... you know you can, right? I mean it would be okay if you wanted to".   
  
"Becca, really, it's nothing to worry about", the Alpha agent felt annoyed that he was still forced to talk about the subject of his previous employer, "I'm fine, really".   
  
The silent look she gave him was an indication that she could tell he was lying.   
  
"OK, maybe when we get outta here we can have a heart to heart, but before that can happen, we have another confrontation with the giant killer wasps ahead of us", Redfield stopped to take a breath, "And as much of an old 50's horror movie title that sounded like, scary part is that it's actually true".   
  
"Well, I'm thinking that the possible solution lies in that thing that you have such an obsession for, Chris", Chambers pointed towards him with her left index finger.   
  
"But she's got noth...", the young man caught himself before finishing the statement because he realized his colleague was pointing towards his flamethrower instead of talking about agent Valentine, a fraudian slip which he silently admonished himself for.   
  
"I mean, the flamethrower may not be able to kill them all at once", he corrected when he noticed that she had a good point.   
  
The weapon he was almost cradling like it was a beloved infant had a wide range, sending out a tongue of flame that at least five feet wide and many times longer than the height of the ceiling to their current room.   
  
"But it would just be a matter of spraying the entire hall, right?", Chambers added, quickly formulating a plan in her head, "How about if we could do it like this? You can stand about five or so feet away from the door, I open it and loads of instant, crispy bees when they meet the hot end of your new toy".   
  
"Well, yeah, good plan, Becca, except...", the Alpha marksman found his attention being turned away from his fellow officer and towards the bookcase that was on the other side of the room.   
  
Something about a set of large, hardcover books appeared out of place, so the young man approached it, too intrigued by the mystery to notice that he was leaving halfway through the conversation.   
  
"Except...", he continued thinking to himself as he came closer, till he was within an arm's reach of the books in question.   
  
"Chris? What've you found?", the medic questioned, slowly following in his direction but keeping her distance in case he wanted to keep his personal space to himself this time.   
  
"Becca, isn't it strange how this room here is by itself?", the Alpha agent finally turned his face towards her.   
  
"What? What do you mean?", the confusion was readable on her face.   
  
"All the other bedrooms we ran into were near other rooms, including the one where that guy did himself in from the ceiling", the older man replied, hoping the explanation he gave would help him solve the nagging mystery that told his instincts that they were missing something obvious which was right in front of them.   
  
"Yeah? So...?".   
  
"But this bedroom is set aside from all the other rooms. Why?", Redfield turned his attention back to the set of books that had lured him to come closer to the bookcase, "And considering how that trap was set with those wasps, isn't that an indication that the idiots who ran this nuthouse never left anything to chance? That everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, is done on purpose, like is either part of a trap or part of a puzzle".   
  
"I suppose it's all the side effects of them lacking a consciousness, so when they were bored we got all this...", the medic reasoned, "But I don't understand what that has to do with our plan to break out of here".   
  
"Look at these books here", the more experienced officer finally pointed to the row of red hardcovers that had grabbed his attention.   
  
"What about them?", Chambers brought her face closer, tilting it to examine the spine of every book there, finding them to be nearly identical as each was red at its top and bottom, but had a peach-coloured shape in the middle.   
  
"I think these books here are supposed to be a picture, at least if they're put together in the right order", Redfield thought out loud as he temporarily placed the flamethrower on the floor, leaning it against the front of the bookcase, "And I bet that they're not disorganized by accident".   
  
"Are you really sure about this? I mean, pictures are supposed to be the key to something?", his younger partner was doubtful, and she wasn't in the mood to hide it as she looked back towards the only door to the room to make sure that nothing was trying to come through it.   
  
"Just something in my gut is telling me that this is wrong, Becca", Redfield explained as he began rearranging the books, moving some from the front of the stack to the end, and vice versa, "And look at it this way - if my instincts are shit and I have no business relying on them, then we only lost about a minute of our time, right?".   
  
"Yeah, well, I guess so", Chambers agreed, though she was pessimistic that her colleague's plan would ever be rewarding.   
  
The Bravo agent was getting more and more anxious as the seconds ticked by, possibly the result of being exposed to the constant dangers of the last 24 hours, all without ever getting even a minute of rest in between. Her partner's fixation with an alleged picture that a row of books is supposed to form wasn't helping ease her state of mind. So hoping that the Alpha agent wasn't losing his senses, she decided to turn her full attention towards the door that any creature would have to use to reach them. The act of facing that only entryway, in addition to gripping the handle of a pistol which could be used to greet anyone who didn't have a friendly face if he or she tried to open the door, alleviated her stress, if only by a tiny bit.   
  
"There! Knew it!", Redfield's exclamation induced her to turn her head so as to see what he was talking about.   
  
True to his expectation, the Alpha officer was looking at an image of a nude, prone woman who was created when he had found the right order that the red books needed to be placed in. As a result of his find, Redfield turned his face to meet his partner's, wearing a smug smile on his face as he gave her a thumb's up.   
  
"Must be scientist porn or something", he continued grinning, "I suppose they weren't allowed to watch pay-per-view like everyone else".   
  
A blush appeared slightly on Chambers' face even as she rolled her eyes and tried to not smile back at the way he was acting in response to the picture.   
  
"Huh, but I guess you were right, Becca", Redfield admitted as he looked down into her eyes, "No secret passages or anything of the ki...".   
  
His declaration was cut short when a rumbling sound was heard from behind him. The Alpha agent twisted around, whipping his 9mm handgun out of its waist holster and swiftly pointing it towards the bookcase that was slowly moving towards the right adjacent side of the wall on its own accord. The young man kept the Beretta aimed at the closed wooden door that was found behind the bookcase itself as the giant container of books finally came to a halt three yards away from its previous position. In the process, it knocked Redfield's flamethrower on the floor since it had been leaning against it.   
  
"This place just... it keeps getting more and more weird!", Chambers added with a shake of her head, her own handgun still aimed towards the floor while her partner didn't lower his.   
  
"Having just found the location to door number one, let's see what the prize behind it is", the Alpha agent finally holstered his weapon before quickly picking the flamethrower off the floor and turning on the nozzle that called forth the 5-inch long tongue of flame towards the front of the weapon.   
  
He didn't wait to ask his colleague if she was agreeable to the idea of investigating the closed door that waited for them on the other side of the secret passageway. Feeling too excited by the prospect of finding something important within this mansion to stop, the police officer turned the knob and pulled the door open towards himself. As always, he felt ready to burn anything in front of him that appeared to be either too ugly to exist or too calm to be unnerved by the existence of this palace.   
  
"Woa!", was the only word the young man could think of uttering as the undisclosed room that greeted him on the other side of the open door turned out to be as large as the lobby to this mansion.   
  
The room began at the spot where he stood and extended to his right. Several yards ahead of him, a staircase began ascending towards a mezzanine before turning to the right and then descending back down to his level from the other side of the square-shaped area. That was all he got to see before feeling something enormous that brushed against the top of his head. He was planning to look up to see the source of the movement when he experienced the sensation of being pulled back towards where he had come from.   
  
Agent Redfield staggered backwards, past the secret passageway that had been created by the moving bookcase, before realizing that it was Chambers who yanked him back to her position. The Bravo medic let go of the back of his shirt and then quickly used that same hand to slam the wooden door shut. The younger woman then flattened her back against the front of the closed door, as if she wanted to make sure that whatever might've been there didn't get past the entryway.   
  
The Alpha agent's only reaction was to then stare at her with a sceptical look on his face, nonverbally asking her why she had just taken that course of action.   
  
"Big thing, lots of flapping, all green", Chambers began to explain as she waved her arms around in a wild fashion.   
  
"What? What're you talking about, Becca?", her partner countered.   
  
"It was... IT was a giant vine! It was coming straight for you from the ceiling, Chris!", she added, holding both her hands about ten inches away from each other, "And it was this thick. I didn't need a degree in anything to know that I was looking at... It was that thing, Chris, the carnivore plant that we read about in the scientist's journal".   
  
"Damn, you kidding? Are you sure about that, Becca?", the Alpha agent gripped his flamethrower tighter.   
  
"Yes, definitely, it was! It couldn't have been anything else, it was MASSIVE!", she nodded her head several times, still unable to ease up on the pressure she was placing against the door, even though she was unsure of any difference her weight would make if the large plant had decided to try to go through the closed entryway.   
  
"Then I think it's time we put it out of its misery", the usually proud grin that she was having an easy time getting used to appeared on his face, "Do you think it's edible? Some plants are, you know".   
  
"But... But, Chris... You're, like...", the medic urgently jabbed her left index towards him.   
  
"What? What's the matter? I don't care how big or strong that thing thinks it is, nothing that lives is ever fireproof", the smirk remained on Redfield's face, "Experience taught me that".   
  
"Chris...", the young woman rubbed her face, wishing he wasn't so brave for the first time since meeting him.   
  
Or was the correct term to describe agent Redfield more gung-ho than brave? Chambers didn't know for sure.   
  
"Well, experience and TV", his smile grew even wider.   
  
"Chris, I'm really not sure you can kill that thing, not even with that cannon of yours", she blurted out.   
  
"Surely, you jest", he wasn't taking her warning as seriously as she would've liked him to.   
  
"Chris, using a flamethrower would require that you must get close, I'm thinking like... maybe fifty yards away at most", she explained, adamant on not moving from her spot till he was giving her the attention that this grave situation needed, "Against that monster in there, that would leave you open to a counter-attack by one of its dozens of tentacles. And any one of those tentacles could easily wrap itself around you and has to be strong enough to snap your body in half in a heartbeat".   
  
"Hmm", the smile faded from his face, at least, and she was glad for it, as unpleasant as it felt to see it gone.   
  
"And from what the diagrams told me, the root is much too massive to be destroyed with 9mm calibre rounds", she continued explaining now that she had his undivided attention and wasn't so eager to rush into battle against a mysterious foe without knowing its strengths and weaknesses, "Besides, even if ... maybe one of us could somehow destroy the root, but it wouldn't do us much good because those tentacles can live without it, remember? That's what the diary said, the tentacles eat flesh, so their nourishment won't be gone once the root dies, not as long as they can find more people to eat, or even probably more of those zombies, for that matter".   
  
"Oh, freaking hell!", Redfield sighed as he broke eye contact, "Fighting this green thing is sounding less and less pleasant with every thing you say".   
  
"Well, it might not be, Chris", agent Chambers took a step away from her position, gripping the pistol with her right hand and rubbing her forehead with the left.   
  
The medic squinted from behind her palm, trying hard to think of how she wanted to put her plans into words, especially words that her partner would understand. To make matters worse, ignoring the physical exhaustion in her body was becoming more and more difficult.   
  
"OK, I think I can find a way to kill this plant, and kill it quite quick", she ultimately stated.   
  
"Tell me more", he eagerly followed.   
  
"OK, lemme nosey here...", the younger woman holstered her weapon and withdrew the diary that had contained the plant's description and diagrams.   
  
"You think you can find a weak spot that we can hit it from a far distance with?", the Alpha agent questioned while she was leafing through the sheets.   
  
"Uh..., no, not that kind of weak spot, anyway... Huh...", the medic kept thinking out loud, only paying partial attention to her partner due to looking over the notes.   
  
A moment of silence followed. It then extended to a full minute.   
  
"Becca?", Redfield broke the silence first since his colleague's concentration wasn't leaving the written words in front of her.   
  
"OK, here's what I think I can do", the less experienced officer lifted her face away from the notebook at last, "If you can put me inside a chemistry lab, I can find you a poison that'll be absorbed into the plant's entire system once it comes into contact with the root or even any one of its vines".   
  
She couldn't read the expression on Redfield's face as he only stared back at her for a few moments. Maybe he was trying to read how confident she appeared to be with the promise she was making him. Maybe not, though.   
  
"You think you can do this? How sure are you, and how much time would we be losing from our search for the others?", the young man then blurted out.   
  
"From these diagrams, I have access to a LOT of detail", Chambers felt her own self-assurance getting stronger as she explained the reason why her suggestion should be followed, "And all the experience I've had with labs tells me that virus are created and destroyed in using much the same ingredients. Creating and destroying within a lab environment really aren't all that different, Chris, because finding a cure means having the organism to cure first, right?".   
  
"I'm still not so sure about us slowing down our search for our friends, though, Becca", Redfield shook his head as he began pacing back and forth nearby, "Not for a theory you have, no matter how good it is, and just to take out one carnivore".   
  
"Chris, I don't mean to speak out of turn but... I think you might not appreciate how dangerous this plantlife is", she was beginning to feel the beginning of what could be a tension headache forming behind her eyes, so she rubbed her face with her left palm again.   
  
Too bad it wasn't making a difference.   
  
"Oh, I appreciate, I do, believe me", he countered, keeping one arm on the flamethrower and scratching the thick hair at the top of his head with the other.   
  
"And what I can concoct here is pure poison for it, Chris", she continued explaining, "I'm talking about a near instant kill as long as the user tosses it against one of its vines. If I do this right, if I do it right, then the poison should travel from the one vine to all the others, all the way up to the root, and then kill it. Think of it as the ultimate Molotov cocktail".   
  
"Hey, I always wanted to play quarterback", he grinned back as he stopped pacing, "I have a pretty good right arm, you know".   
  
"Right", she could relax enough to smile back, "And once I have the sample put together and I know it works, I could easily make others, so in case the first one misses, you'll have more shots to take?".   
  
"OK, you're making a difficult case to ignore, I got that", the young man nodded, "I'm just so... freaking WORRIED about everybody else. Even if we were to find a lab on that map of ours, we don't know how long this will take you, do we?".   
  
"No, you're right, I can't tell you for sure", she had to admit, "Maybe an hour. Maybe more".   
  
The Alpha agent was being silent again, the inner conflict easily apparent on his face this time.   
  
"And look at it this way", she didn't like having to change his mind, not when she was already tired, "If we walk away from this thing and someone from either of our teams wanders in and gets eaten by it because we didn't take the opportunity to kill it? That'd suck more, right?".   
  
She had to stop and ask herself if she actually said those last four words.   
  
"Plus, I think this plant is expanding", her voice was becoming more fatigued as she pressed on, eager to be able to merely work in a lab for a little while instead of having to continue talking, "That vine that's next to the bookcase? It's all connected to this plant and its root, Chris. That means it's spreading out and looking for food because it's hungry. If anything, that makes it more dangerous since people don't expect to be attacked by a plant".   
  
"OK, OK", the Alpha agent finally nodded in agreement, "So let's go take this eyesore out. I'll wait as long as you need to put the poison together, as long as it's not till sunrise, you know?".   
  
"No, you won't", Chambers declared as she put the diary away while the pair made their way back to the door that had dozens of wasps waiting on the other side.   
  
"What? Wadda you mean?", Redfield asked as he stood several feet in front of the wooden door that led back to the hallway, his feet in an L stance and the flamethrower ready to send a burst of flame towards the angry creatures that still buzzed on the other side of the closed entryway.   
  
"Once we find the chemistry lab, we're going to secure it for me, then you're going to leave and continue looking for your friends", Chambers let him know as she was preparing to push the door open before dashing out of the way, "Then, after an hour of patrolling, you can come back and pick me up, and by then, I'll hopefully be done".   
  
"What? Are you sure about that, Becca?", Redfield's right index finger rested on the trigger to the flamethrower while he aimed for the upper half of the closed door.   
  
"Sure, I should be fine. Assuming you're OK with patrolling alone, I mean", she added.   
  
"Oh, yeah, don't worry about me", he shook his head, feeling better at the idea of being able to look for agent Valentine rather than idly standing around when his partner did something useful.   
  
"It's decided then", she smiled at him as she gripped the doorknob while keeping her body as far away from the door as possible, "On three?".   
  
The older agent only nodded, his eyes concentrating on the short-term task at hand.   
  
"One, two...", Chambers held her breath, "And three!".   
  
The Bravo medic exhaled as she twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. She dove on her stomach towards the floor that was as far away from the open entryway as possible and covered the top of her head with both arms. She didn't see anything else, reflexively having closed her eyes while clenching her teeth. Instead, she only heard dozens of giant wasps rushing into the room while her partner yelled out something incoherent and pulled the trigger to his flamethrower.   
  



	26. Chapter 20g Late night swimming

A/N WAH! Hello all, I really wanted to thank everyone who is still reading here and an even bigger thank you to all you guys who reviews. Damnation is officially a year old today and without you guys, I doubt it would have become such a huge driving force in my life, would still have written it but you all make me feel like it's genuinely something to be proud of. You've all been wonderful with your support and I can't tell you what a happy little Jaz that makes me. So thank you all.

"Uuuuggghhh…!", agent Valentine groaned as she slowly opened her eyes, finding that simple act more difficult than it should've been.

Once both eyes were open wide, it took her several hazy seconds to realize that she was lying on her back, on top of something that was more comfortable than a stone or wooden floor, and that she was staring at a ceiling. She couldn't tell what this place was, much less how she ended up arriving here, and the less she knew of her current situation within this mansion, the more apprehensive the prospect made her. The Alpha agent tried to sit up while simultaneously reaching for her waist holster. She groaned again as she was rewarded with the painful combination of a headache and backache. But the second moan that escaped through her lips was less distressing because she could at least feel the presence of the 9mm Beretta that was still located at her hip.

"Did I end up staggering here and passing out or something?", she wondered as she planted her feet on the floor next to the bed.

Just to be safe, concern prompted her to withdraw the handgun for the sake of checking to see if it was still loaded. It was, with a full clip, while she could still feel two additional clips within her uniform.

Glad for it, Valentine returned the weapon to its holster and stood up, only to screech in new agony as she suddenly limped on her right leg due to feeling a sprained left ankle. The young woman wasn't able to immediately balance herself on only one leg, so she had to hold on to the edge of the bed to keep from falling back down as her head was still dizzy.

"How the hell did I get here?", she thought out loud as she surveyed her surroundings.

The STARS machinist couldn't remember anything after she had realized that she had been bitten by the gigantic snake, or as she called it, the living roller coaster. Maybe agent Aitken had carried her here if she passed out. But if so, then where was he now?

No, Valentine shook her head at the hypothesis. If the young Bravo officer had brought her unconscious figure here, he would've remained by her side till she woke up. At least she guessed he would since that's what she would've done if their roles were reversed. But then again, if Jill had been in Aitken's shoes, she wouldn't have confronted a snake huge enough to swallow them both with ease.

She shook her head again. If Aitken hadn't brought her here, then she had probably teetered away from the scene after being bitten and found this room without recalling it, before seeing the bed and passing out on its surface.

But where was Aitken?

Valentine's eyes and mouth widened when she realized that she might've tottered away from the living roller coaster while the brazen young man was still fighting it. In that case, was Aitken even alive any more, especially after she left him alone against that creature?

"Oh, god, no!", she ran her left fingers up from the bridge of her nose towards her forehead.

There was no time for this self-pity, she chastised herself after a few seconds. She didn't know how long she had been unconscious, but from the look of her injured arm, she could tell that the snake bite had fortunately not been lethal to the point where she had bled to death. Instead, the wound seemed to have clotted. Just strange how there was no blood on the bed itself, she thought before moving towards the only door to the room.

Agent Valentine didn't remember how she had gotten here, thus she wasn't sure how to return to the spot where she had originally met officer Aitken. But hopefully, her memory would be jumpstarted once she left this room, she reasoned as she wobbled towards the exit. She had to find Aitken, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to insist on facing the huge snake, and to be fair, she wasn't sure that he was dead. So until she could find his remains, she was planning on searching for a living colleague, along with anyone else she could find who didn't deserve to be shot in the stomach and watched as they bled to death because they were the mastermind behind this palace, of course.

Wincing in pain as she made her way closer to the door, the female agent noticed the large shotgun that was leaning against the wall, along with eight rounds that were lying near it on the floor. It was only then that she recalled even having the weapon when she and Aitken had faced off against the snake. So maybe she had left it by the door as she dizzily stumbled inside and then assumedly collapsed on the bed, she reasoned to herself as she reached for the weapon and picked it off the floor.

Still loaded with seven unused cartridges, she smiled for the first time after checking the inside of the shotgun. Wincing in more pain as she squatted to pick up the extra ammunition, she then stood back up and placed all eight rounds within a pocket of her uniform, not caring that they were getting mixed up with the two 9mm clips already there.

"OK, Richie", she grimaced while opening the door and travelling into the hallway outside, "You better be alive so I can slap you when I find you".

------------------------

"Aitken! AITKEEEN!", agent Valentine called out twice, using a loud whisper as she proceeded down the well-lit hallway.

No sign of life was encountered, human or otherwise, either in front or behind her, while she took several right turns along the path of this corridor.

The reason for the direction picked was because she had initially gone left upon leaving the room where she had woken up, only to come across a set of double windows that had a handful of zombies banging on the glass from the outside. She couldn't tell how many of those monsters were eagerly trying to come through the window. But she wasn't in the mood to agitate them by walking into their line of vision, thus leading them to burst through the window and forcing a showdown when there didn't need to be one. That was especially true since she wanted to keep the shotgun strapped to her back in case she ran into the giant snake, and she wasn't sure how effective the handheld 9mm Beretta would be against several zombies at once. Thus, she had gone in the opposite direction, the whole time hoping that she would remember the way she came to be on the bed, and getting increasingly frustrated when her recollection was just a blank. The pain from her left ankle was also exacerbating the situation since it made the mere act of walking more difficult.

"That's it, Jill, just call out his goddamn name", she reprimanded herself while checking behind her, always ensuring that no one and nothing could deliver a sneak attack when her back was turned, "As if this fucking place isn't dangerous enough as it is. You wanna make these freaks and the ones who magically created them aware that you're around the corner and coming their way".

She sighed at what she considered to be unprofessional behaviour on her part.

"Get a damn grip, already!", Valentine was still thinking out loud when she came across two closed wooden doors that were perpendicular to each other.

The STARS agent gripped the closer doorknob and pushed the door open while staying next to the entryway. The only sight that greeted her was the gold-coloured statue of a 3-foot tall tiger that rested on a waist-high pedestal. There was absolutely nothing else within the tiny room that the first door led to.

"Uh, yeah", she sarcastically waved her left index finger towards the statue before closing the door and carefully proceeding towards the second entryway.

Warily opening the second door, the police officer spotted a fairly large bedroom, though it was smaller than the room she had woken up in a few minutes ago.

The light was off, assuming it was still working. But there was enough illumination coming in through the open doorway to let her see that there was no movement within this area. However, Valentine held her breath when she realized there was the figure of an adult person lying on the bed, even if she couldn't tell what gender it was. The prone individual was definitely not moving, as the Alpha agent waited a few seconds, all the while anxiously looking over her shoulder, but never saw his or her chest rising, which indicated to her that the person was dead, or a zombie.

Agent Valentine proceeded further into the dark room, Beretta always ready while her free hand apprehensively searched for a lightswitch along the wall next to the doorway. Upon finding it, she quickly turned it on and involuntarily gasped as she saw that the man who was on the bed was lying on his back and missing the skin off his face, a stripped and bloodied skull almost grinning maniacally at the ceiling. She reflexively left the door open behind her as she ventured inside, trying hard to look over the rest of the area without being distracted by the grisly sight that permanently rested on the bed.

The only other furniture in the room was a wooden desk and chair combination that was thankfully a few steps away from the bed. So Valentine limped towards it in the hope of finding something useful, whether that was weapons, tools, a usable phone, or any information that would help identify the disturbed individuals who created this nightmarish place. She stood behind the chair and began examining the items that were in front of her. Along the surface of the desk were several pens, notebooks with scientific jargon that she couldn't understand, an unused lamp, a framed photo of a smiling, fit, middle-aged man who was standing in the wilderness among a small group of large, friendly dogs.

The photo drew her attention, if only for an instant, because she noticed something familiar about it. Picking it up with her left hand and bringing the picture closer to her face, Valentine recognized that one of the sociable dogs in it was wearing the same collar that she had removed from the large dog after having killed it earlier tonight.

Sighing, the Alpha agent placed the photo back down on the surface of the desk, continuing her search of anything out of the ordinary. She soon came upon several pages that contained handwriting that was in English instead of the diagrams and abbreviations that she couldn't read. So she folded those pages and placed them inside her trousers pocket without delay, not wanting to waste time reading them just yet. She was about to turn away and leave this area due to not having found anything practical, when something else that was found underneath the pages she had just picked up caught her attention. Scratched out of the varnish of the desk, most likely done with a pen due to the faint traces of ink that were also visible, were the words 'ITCHY' and 'TASTY'.

Agent Valentine shuddered for the first time since waking up at connecting those words to the faceless body that was in the room with her. It took her several seconds to bring her trembling under control, in which time she began heading towards the door to leave this awful room behind. She limped past the bed, aiming for a straight line to the open doorway, when she was interrupted by noise that sounded like someone or something sniffing. The Alpha officer's face grew even more tense with worry as she looked over at the horizontal body that remained on the bed.

"Uh, no, that wasn't you", she talked to the dead body, "So who?".

Almost in response to her question, the closed closet door that was on the other side of the bed, which she had carelessly not noticed when scanning this room, burst open and a slobbering zombie marched out of it. Valentine's eyes and mouth widened in a wordless cry as she was now locking eyes with a creature who couldn't think of her as anything other than food. She should've simply taken aim with the handgun and pulled the trigger. That would've ended this short-term threat quickly because the zombie was still several steps away from her. But something unnamed changed within agent Valentine's mind as she found herself becoming angrier at being threatened by this creature, and all the others like it who had killed agent Frost and dozens of civilians within Raccoon City. Thus, in a violation of protocol which she would've never thought doing before today, the STARS employee decided to be more creative and save her handgun ammunition for later.

Holstering the Beretta, she swiftly reached for and gripped the back of the chair that was in front of the desk. Valentine lifted the chair by her side before horizontally swinging it in a semi-circle. The chair's legs smashed into the zombie's torso without breaking apart, prompting the monster to moan louder as it temporarily lost its balance. Not surprisingly, though, it quickly regained its footing and continued its march towards her. Its refusal to lie down and play dead only infuriated her more, so agent Valentine rested the majority of her bodyweight on her right leg before delivering a front kick into its stomach. The blow could've been effective if not for her twisted left ankle, but instead, her attack sent a jolt of fresh pain travelling through her left leg.

"AAAAAAAH! FUCKER!", she furiously retreated a pair of steps before lifting the chair over the level of her head with both hands.

As the creature staggered closer to her, Valentine swung the chair downward in a perfect vertical semi-circle, crashing it against the zombie's head and breaking it into three pieces. She was irately wheezing as she saw that her antagonist had twisted around as a result of the impact and then had fallen on its back. But again, not surprisingly, the resilient zombie gave a pathetic moan as it tried to sit back up.

"I hope Joseph has fun kicking your ass in the afterlife", the STARS agent calmed down enough to make the next statement in her usual tone of voice as she withdrew the Beretta.

She reached down and pushed the muzzle of the handgun past the zombie's lips and into its mouth while undoing the weapon's safety mechanism. With one pull of the trigger, a muffled noise escaped from the back of the monster's head and sprayed the floor underneath it with a dark red stain. The zombie itself didn't make any more sounds as it collapsed on its back for the second time, and stayed immobile while a pool of blood gathered behind its head.

"Hmmm…", agent Redfield narrowed his eyelids as he was reviewing the map he held with both hands.

As far as he could tell, the chart indicated that a door was located out of this room and leading towards the basement. But looking ahead of him now, the young man could tell that he was in a wardrobe room that led nowhere, and was thus a dead end. The only sight in front of him was two large hangers that were full of items of clothing, some for men, others for women, and covering as many ranges as the officer could think of.

Everything from casual civilian clothes to nurses' outfits and even some police officer uniforms were on display. But apart from the massive clothe hangers that made up the entire wall of the room he was in, there was nothing to indicate to him as far as how he needed to get out of here, not without retracing his steps and starting over, anyway. And that wasn't an idea he liked, either, not when he was getting increasingly irritated at his inability to find any of his colleagues in the last thirty minutes since he had left agent Chambers in a lab and closed the door behind him. The Alpha officer would've preferred to lock the door, thus ensuring that the younger woman would've been the only person to open it from inside. But Chambers had insisted that the mixture of chemicals she'd be working with needed to allow her access to air, and the lack of usable windows necessitated that she have the door unlocked so as to air out the place every once in a while. So Redfield had grudgingly agreed to those terms and reminded her to shoot anything that didn't greet her in a friendly tone for half a dozen times before promising to return in exactly sixty minutes.

That was half an hour ago, and since then, canvassing the first and second floors of this maze that pretended to be a house led nowhere. No Alpha members, no Bravo members, no Jill, nothing, so Redfield growled under his breath as he had been looking forward to trying his luck with the basement below the ground floor. He had to admit that he clearly hadn't covered every single room and corridor that the first and second floors contained, but at this point, a change in venue seemed to be in order. That's because the lack of noise, whether by itself or in response to him calling out people's names, was irritating him.

The young man did remember reading something about how the basement was now flooded since one of these nutjob scientists had gone mad and destroyed it somehow. As if it was possible for them to be getting even closer to insanity than they were while working on this virus, he shook his head in disgust at the thought. But he wasn't about to let a little water deter him from finding Jill, Barry or the Alpha team captain.

"Besides, how bad can it be? Just don't be stupid enough to walk up to any loose power lines that are in the damn water", he had confidently thought out loud while following the only path to the basement that he could see on the map.

Except that, here he was, and as far as he could tell, the path wasn't. The young man was getting dangerously close to punching inanimate objects.

"Easy, Chris, save it for the freaks or their masters,

OK?", he consoled himself in an effort to calm down,

"Besides, Becca's right. At this rate, you're not gonna live long enough to see whoever's behind this shit brought to justice".

With those words, the police officer walked up to the clothes stands that were in front of the end wall of the room he was currently in. He had to check this place out close-up before deciding that there were no items or paths here for him to use. After all, if there was anything that the puzzle with the books that created a picture of the aspiring Playboy model taught him, it was that nothing in this house was as simple as it should've been.

"So why does the map say one thing while the room shows another?", he asked himself while casually inspecting the garments themselves, "Do I have to wear a maid's outfit or something, and that opens up yet another secret passage here?".

Nothing interesting about the clothes, except that the civilian and police outfits seemed out of place in an area that pretended to be all about science, experiments and lab work. Ironically, there wasn't a single white lab coat to be found anywhere, but except for that fact, Redfield couldn't find anything unusual. So he huffed as he pushed past the clothes and made his way to the back panel of the wardrobe in a last-ditch effort to examine it. Maybe there was a button to push somewhere, one that wasn't immediately visible to a casual scan of the area, which then led to a door opening that could take him to the basement.

Wondering about his theory, the Alpha agent energetically knocked on the wooden back panel. The echo he heard on the other side confirmed his suspicions that this definitely wasn't the end of the trail for him. The area behind the back panel was hollow, so it was just a matter of time to get past it to continue his search.

The idea of simply shooting or punching his way through the clothes hangers came and went, Redfield deciding to take another minute to see if there was another, more quiet way that didn't use as much of his precious ammunition.

"But could it be? Is the answer that goddamn obvious?", he asked himself while leaning the flamethrower against the wall and using both his hands to take a strong hold of the edge of the right hanger.

The young man pulled the hanger towards him, not caring that its flat bottom scraped against the floor, causing a sound that was an eerie imitation of fingernails on a chalkboard. He kept pulling until the heavy panel was four feet in front of its previous position, and exhaled loudly as he found nothing behind it but a stone wall.

"Fucking hell!", the officer swore under his breath, looking behind him for good measure.

Finding no movement anywhere, he decided to try one more idea before leaving this place and resuming his search elsewhere. Maybe he'd torch the room once he left it, he grimaced as he set about the task of moving the left-side clothes hanger.

"God knows they deserve a lot worse", he thought of the mansion's inhabitants as he began pushing the second hanger parallel to the wall behind it, towards the spot where the first one used to be.

Redfield laughed out loud in satisfaction as he noticed a metal ladder that originated on the floor behind the left hanger and led downwards. The top of the ladder was a semi-circle which was embedded into the floor itself, ensuring that it would stay in place regardless of the weight of anyone who was using it. The STARS officer quickly looked down the crevice that it led to, wishing he had access to a flashlight since he couldn't see a lot of details due to the darkness below. To make matters worse, he'd have to keep the less lethal Beretta in his hand while climbing down the steps and strap the flamethrower to his back due to his inability to manoeuvre on the ladder with the giant weapon in his arms. And ever since getting used to the stopping power that the flamethrower had, the idea of facing whatever he was sure was lurking down there with only a 9mm handgun wasn't an uplifting one.

"Oh well", he sighed as he began securing the 3-foot long flamethrower to his back, "Here's hoping that the freaks are asleep when I'm headin' down. How long will it take me to pull that thing out once I'm at the bottom, anyway?".

Hoping he wouldn't be made to regret his bravado, the young man then withdrew his handgun and, keeping it in his right grip, began climbing down the ladder, doing his best to make as little noise as possible.

--------------------------------

"Well, this will do me a lot of good if I fall in", Redfield moaned as he was looking at the path ahead of him.

The good news was that no creatures or hostile human beings greeted him as he set foot at the bottom of the ladder. So the Alpha agent was able to holster his handgun and re-use his trusty flamethrower while investigating the basement area. That same flamethrower was now turned on, the 5-inch tongue of bluish fire waiting patiently at its tip, almost eager to be used when he pulled the trigger. But Redfield hadn't run into anything alive while making his way to this spot here.

This place, on the other hand, was a hallway where the entire section in front of him was a 20-yard long path of deep water. He couldn't tell the depth of the liquid as the green water was too dirty and dark to see all the way to the bottom. But it was definitely deeper than his height, as three square-shaped wooden crates that were five yards long each were easily floating on its surface. So Redfield had the choice of trying to jump from one crate to another, knowing full well that he'd have to swim the rest of the way if he lost his balance and fell off, or he could just turn around and head back to the ground floor above.

"Oh, fuck that, came too far to quit now", he decided as he turned the flamethrower off and repositioned it on his upper back, knowing full well that it'd be useless if he were to fall into the water and something was living at the bottom of this liquid hole.

Beretta in hand, the young man took a running leap, always keeping his eyes on the edge of the first crate, and surprised himself with the ease in which he landed on the wobbly wooden surface. He anxiously spread his arms parallel to the floor in an effort to not fall down, and while the crate itself shook at the impact, at least it didn't sink or overturn like it could've. So the officer was grateful as he made his way to the end of the crate and eyed the beginning of the second one that was less than two yards away.

Two more jumps led him to the other side of the watery obstacle, and Redfield proudly congratulated himself as he holstered the handgun and withdrew the flamethrower for the second time, turning the powerful weapon on as he walked. He made his way down this corridor, noticing that he was constantly walking downhill as he did. Coming to a right turn, he took it with the same caution he always had on the job, and proceeded down to the end of this hallway, wondering why it was an even steeper descent than the first. Redfield didn't think about that mystery for long, though, because he soon came upon clear water that signalled the beginning of a major flood on the other side of the massive, metal double doors. He had reached the end of this hallway and the beginning of whatever was flooded on the other side. He gripped the flamethrower at a ready position, confident that he could fry any zombie who was walking about in waist-high water, and then carefully opened the left side of the double doors.

Even while prepared for anything he might've seen, the young man's eyes bulged at the sight of a circular aquarium that was at least 100 yards in diameter. But as he had guessed, the green water level was only high enough to be reaching his waistline if he continued walking for several more yards, and this time, it was clear enough that he could see the floor. So nothing could've snuck up on him from the bottom while he walked, which was all the encouragement he needed to proceed. The STARS officer took several steps into the aquaring, gradually getting water up to his knees, but he then froze when he finally noticed the creatures who were occupying this area. Instead of the standard zombie that he expected to face off against, Redfield's mouth dropped open when he saw three fins that were freely swimming around the ring. Sharks, unlike zombies, wouldn't have to come out of the water to attack him, and their home under water meant that his flamethrower was useless. But what about his handgun?

A quick scan of the surroundings told him that there were three giant fish in the water, and as far as he could tell, all three had broken out of a circular glass container that was placed at the middle of the flooded ring. That was easy enough to guess because that same middle container had a large hole in its side, one that was big enough for even a great white shark to pass through, and the water level within it was the same colour as the one that was flooding the ring now. So the sharks had taken advantage of whatever chaos had created the hole in the side of their aquarium to bust out of the glass cage and then took over the ring that surrounded it once enough water had flooded that space.

Redfield quickly tried to judge how big the creatures were even as he saw that the fins began turning and swimming in his direction, so his presence had already been spotted. He especially wanted to know if they were large enough to be destroyed by using his Beretta pistol. The one nearest him, closing in from thirty yards away, must've been about 6 to 8 feet long, which shouldn't be too difficult to kill with 9mm rounds if he was careful when aiming for it. The second one, that was about ten yards behind the first fish, was about the same size, so the STARS agent began trying to remember how many extra pistol clips he had within his uniform. If he could lure them close to him while standing at the safety of the doorway where the sharks couldn't swim, he should be able to shoot all three of them dead without being touched by any of the monsters.

Which brought him to the whereabouts and size of the third shark there. As the young man spotted it on the other side of the ring, an involuntary gasp escaped his lips when he realized that the third fin was more than twice as big as the first two.

"Holy shit! How big ARE you?!", Redfield exclaimed while the first two, smaller sharks got even closer to him.

In response to his question, the third shark burst its head out of the surface of the water, aiming its gaping mouth towards the ceiling and prompting the Alpha agent to involuntarily shriek again. This creature had to have been at least 20 feet long, possibly even reaching 25. Redfield couldn't tell for sure due to the distance between himself and it, but also because he was too busy being shocked by the hundreds of giant teeth its open mouth contained.

"No", he remarked as he shook his head in a calmer fashion, then turned around and rushed out of the shallow water while the first two sharks were closing in on him.

Standing two steps outside of the open double doors, the water level only reaching up to the level of his boots, Redfield's mouth stayed open while he surveyed the watery monsters ahead of him. Noticing that the target left their domain, the two smaller sharks swam as far as they could towards him and then smoothly turned back, swimming deeper into the middle of the ring.

"Fuck all three of you", the young man continued talking, "I'm taking my shit and getting the hell outta here".

He was about to turn around and make his way back through the obstacle of crates and up the ladder to the first floor, chalking up this experience to a mistake that cost him some time. But he then noticed something that was floating on the surface of the water that wasn't a shark or a piece of wood, steel or glass. Instead, Redfield angrily observed that he was looking at a severed arm. There were no sleeves or any other pieces of clothing to identify who the body part belonged to, but its owner had died only a short time ago, as the arm's skin colour still made it apparent that it came from a White, Hispanic or Asian man.

Redfield licked his lips, asking himself if that arm could've belonged to someone from Bravo team. Truth is that he just didn't know. He was returning to agent

Chambers in a little while, and agents Speyer, Dooley, Sullivan and Dewey were unfortunately confirmed dead.

But he didn't know the fate of the remaining two Bravo members, as team leader Marini and agent Aitken were still unaccounted for. So was he going to turn his back and retreat from these giant man-eater sharks who might've killed someone he once knew and worked with?


	27. Chapter 20h Stress of suspicion

_AN: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. You guys are the best. Also myself and Jen have been working on a few fics over the summer and they are now up under the joint ID of hellocaptainandshakahnna so you know would be nice if you guys would check it out too :)_

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"I can't believe some people actually do this to themselves on a regular basis!", agent Redfield gritted his teeth while he was using his not-so standard-issue bowie knife to cut a bloody trail on his sleeveless left upper arm.  
  
He dropped the knife on the floor in an offhanded manner, quickly pressing his torn-off left sleeve against the wound. He waited several moments so that the cloth would be as drenched in blood as possible without causing his body long-term damage before carefully laying the sticky wet rag aside. The flow of blood didn't stop as he had cut his left arm a bit too well, so he was glad he had laid aside one of the herbs that agent Chambers had insisted he take with him once they temporarily parted ways. So the young man vigorously rubbed the green herb on the wound, not taken aback that it quickly stopped his bleeding, just as his younger partner had promised was one of the herb's abilities.  
  
The STARS officer breathed heavily, trying to calm down his racing heartbeat as he placed the remnants of the herb back into his uniform. He kept the Beretta in his right grip as he approached the open double doors leading back to the aquaring. Of course, he realized that the sensible course of action would be to retrace his steps and return to the first floor, but Redfield had always been one to pride himself in putting life and limb in jeopardy for the good of his team. In fact, that's what had gotten him dishonourably discharged from his last employer to begin with, so the young man made an effort to not lose his temper over that memory and continued the course of action he had decided upon. It was an issue that the young man still felt quite strongly upon but, even if time travel was possible, Redfield knew he would not have left his USAF comrade to die. But regardless, the turbulent relationship with his former employer was now a moot point anyway.  
  
Returning to the open double doors, the cold water was back to freezing his body below the knees while the flamethrower remained attached to his upper back. The Alpha agent took a hold of his torn, bloody sleeve and carefully proceeded further into the pool. There were several reasons for him to refuse to turn back. The first being that anyone who had found themselves to be in this ring when the sharks burst out of their container would've either ran towards these doors and escaped or dashed towards the office room that was two yards over the level of the water, as a high railing on the floor of the ring led to a staircase that went to the second floor. So if any Bravo agents had found themselves there, they might've bolted towards higher ground in an effort to evade the giant fish. Redfield also knew that some individuals who were working in this mansion might've been hiding there also, and should he find them, he'd deal with them appropriately. Maybe he'd have to physically beat them, but there was also the chance, however slight, that he'd run into a remorseful person like the fellow who had been forced to hang himself in his bedroom. If that was to be the case, Redfield supposed he could forgo the planned beating and just take the person with him, without ever turning his back on that man or woman.  
  
There was a second reason for his desire to make his way to the upstairs office, though. Once there, he could try to kill these sharks with the use of his Beretta pistol. Two full clips of the weapon meant that 32 rounds were available to him, and ten bullets per shark, at least the smaller ones, but maybe even the giant one too, aimed from a higher point, could just be enough to achieve that goal. He'd never be able to hit those swimming monsters from the same level as them, of course, but being two yards above the surface of the water would give him a much easier target to shoot to. And the officer's skills, which were honed with years of target practicing, made him confident enough that he wouldn't miss the majority of his shots, even if his targets were constantly swimming around, not as long as there was only about three feet of water for the 9mm rounds to go through before striking the shark's body.  
  
The third and last reason involved the plant that agent Chambers had most likely saved him from, the very same one that she was working against in her effort to find a poison for it. If what he remembered from the scientist's diary was true, then the plant had taken shelter here, somewhere in the basement. If Redfield found this to be the case, he'd summarily return upstairs to find Chambers and lead her back here to increase their chances of efficiently using the concocted toxin against it.  
  
So with all three reasons urging him on, Redfield breathed hard once as he noted the spot where all three sharks were. The one closest to him, one of the smaller monsters, was about thirty yards away, while the left-hand staircase leading to the upstairs office was about two dozen steps in the other direction. So the Alpha agent tightened his right grip on the pistol while retaining the bloodied sleeve with his left hand, and began running into the flooded room. Just as expected, all three predators quickly turned their attention towards him, suddenly making a bee-line in his direction. Having taken half a dozen steps towards the base of the ascending stairs, and in the process having reached the railing, the officer realized that the first, smaller shark had already covered 2/3 of the distance towards him. Plus, its much larger cousin wasn't too far after it. So the young man quickly tossed the bloody sleeve into the water behind him, planning to turn his attention away from the goal in front of him to the danger at his side if the distraction did not work.  
  
Fortunately for him, it did, as all three creatures found it impossible to resist their natural instinct and detoured to intercept the bloody cloth instead. Feeling more grateful than he could put into words, Redfield capitalized on the advantage by continuing his splashing run towards the beginning of the stairs. Another dozen, hurried steps brought him within five yards of the dry treads, and it was only then that, from the corner of his eye, he noticed the largest of the three sharks turning away from the bloody rag and hunting for him again. Maybe this animal was more intelligent than its two, smaller counterparts, Redfield didn't know for sure, but what was now obvious was that the distraction was no longer useful against it. While the two smaller fish were still swimming around the piece of cloth, wondering if there was any meat to be eaten near it, the Great White shark had already realized that it had been duped and was beginning to make up for its mistake.  
  
"Neeeeh! Shiiiiit!", Redfield exclaimed as a colossal jaw rose out of the water, showing off several rows of large teeth as it swam towards him in an attempt to swallow him whole.  
  
The STARS agent sped up his efforts, ignoring the strain in his legs, and felt himself breathing a sigh of relief when his feet came across the beginning of the staircase that was underneath the level of the water. He quickly climbed up, rushing up all five flights that were over the surface of the water and reaching a small platform that was separated from the rest of the ring with the guardrail that had followed him up the steps. It was only then that Redfield stopped long enough to turn around and saw his pursuer's enormous mouth as the shark pushed the front part of its body out of the water and then crashed it against the railing in an effort to still get to the prey. Redfield instinctively winced and stepped as far away from the guardrail as possible, lifting his left arm in a protective stance in front of his head, not even having time to think that such a defensive move wouldn't achieve anything if the shark had gotten past the metal barrier.  
  
With his back to a single closed metal door that was behind him, the Alpha agent finally put his left arm down and remembered why he had ventured here. Taking aim with the pistol in his right hand, he raised that arm at an angle towards the floor below, placing the Great White's head within his sights. In response to his action, though, the giant fish quickly sank its body back underneath the surface of the water and then turned away from him. Redfield had enough time to pull the trigger three times, all the rounds easily passing through the water before striking the middle of the shark's back. But he stopped shooting after that because the natural predator actually swam as far away from his position as possible, and Redfield couldn't be sure, but he thought that he saw it swimming away from him while keeping its body as immersed in water as it could get. Also, he then witnessed the shark turning and diving towards the middle of the aquaring before it disappeared from immediate view. Redfield finally noticed that the middle of the ring was actually much deeper than the edge that he had been running on so far. While the edge contained water that was up to his stomach, the middle of the ring must've been at least twenty yards deep, and it was that depth where the Great White found sanctuary from his attacks.  
  
Was this shark part of the experiments in this nuthouse? Probably, he thought to himself while watching the animal retreating to the depth of the aquaring, always staying as far away from him as it could manage. The two smaller ones, on the other hand, were still otherwise occupied with the drops of blood that had escaped out of the rag, which was now at the bottom of the path he had run on a few seconds ago. So the officer pointed his weapon towards one of them, quickly pulling the trigger eight more times, and was proud that he didn't see a single bullet missing its target as all the ammunition punched a hole inside the fish itself.  
  
Surprising the other undersized shark, Redfield's target shuddered as it sank to the bottom of the pool in a cloud of its own blood. So the STARS member carefully pointed away from his first dead foe. The second small animal in the water was still oblivious to the threat, so it also proved to be an easy enough task to dispose of it, but now Redfield had to admit that a new problem had arisen. While the two tinier sharks were clearly stupid enough to stay in place while they were being shot, the much larger one was not, and it was the main threat anyway. So how was he going to leave this place to return to agent Chambers on the first floor above if he couldn't shoot the Great White after that monster was probably too smart to fall for the same trick twice since it had already been distracted with a bloody rag before?  
  
"Nice one, Chris", he thought out loud as he rubbed the hair at the top of his head with a left hand.  
  
Turning around, with his back to the two dead sharks in the water, Redfield realized that he had to search this office now and, hopefully, find a way leading out of it. The thought that the rest of the STARS team might've regrouped and found a way to contact Vickers, thus leaving him behind if he wasn't found soon enough, came and then left his mind. Thus, the young man shook his head, telling himself that such pessimism wasn't going to benefit anyone at this time. So pushing the metal door and finding it unlocked, he carefully made his way into the tiny room on the other side, one that was half the size of a studio apartment. No signs of life, either friendly or otherwise, so he went inside and looked down an opening in the floor that contained a ladder which led to another room below.  
  
Abruptly looking over the entrance to the place underneath his floor and finding no movement, the STARS marksman climbed down the ladder, soon placing his feet on the floor below and then examining this new area. The first item that caught his sight was a large glass measuring about six yards wide and four yards tall that was on one side of the wall, and it was transparent enough to see everything on the other side of the ring. Through it, Redfield could now easily see the gigantic shark swimming around the water, and he couldn't tell why, but he felt that the fish had realized that it had been seen. But still, as interesting as this whole area might've been, how was it going to help him get back out of the watery basement?  
  
"Think, man, think!", he rubbed the back of his head as he surveyed the area.  
  
The square room had a table on one side and unused computers and monitors on the other two, with the see-through glass making up the fourth area. Nothing interesting there. Two opposite hallways also led out of the room, so Redfield casually began walking down the left corridor, and he soon came across a closed metal door, but upon trying to open it, found it to be locked. Trying to not scream in frustration, he aimed his handgun at the locking mechanism, but stopped short of pulling the trigger when he remembered that shooting a metal door would most likely only lodge its lock and make it impossible to open indefinitely.  
  
Swearing out loud, Redfield turned around and headed back towards the underwater room, passing through it on his way to the other corridor. The young man could feel his patience slowly trickling away. While walking towards the new destination, he spotted the Great White shark still swimming around in an apparently aimless path, so he momentarily turned his attention to the glass.  
  
"You're NOT gonna keep me away from her!", the STARS agent accused it before continuing towards where he wanted to go. The officer did not realize the significance of his actions, merely following a gut instinct that agent Valentine was the one thing to focus on that was positive when all else aroud him seemed to be falling apart. So much so that his concentration was split between her and everything else, and he desperately kept his colleague's visage in his mind in an effort to safeguard himself against the despair that constantly threatened to overtake him.  
  
Maybe he'll give the shark a close-up view of his middle finger if he has to come back through here, he told himself. But hopefully he wouldn't be returning to this room because this second hallway would lead him out of the flooded basement. He supposed he could always go back to the staircase that led from the aquaring to this office structure and then try to run back to the metal double doors, but he didn't fancy his chances of making it towards that exit while shooting the Great White monster as it sped towards him like a torpedo.  
  
It only took him a few seconds to reach the end of the second corridor, and the agent sighed in exasperation when he came to another dead end upon seeing a series of three cylinders, each of which contained a valve.  
  
"What? What the fuck's this?", Redfield began raising his voice as weariness and exasperation were finally beginning to take their toll, "How the FUCK is anyone supposed to make any goddamn SENSE out of all this meaningless, mumbo jumbo shit?! Oh, you guys are REAL funny. Right fine okay, your rules until I get ahold of you!".  
  
Groaning in anger and addressing those who had created this cesspool, he turned back around and was forced to return to the previous room that contained the large glass to look out into the middle of the shark pool with. He was readying himself for another attempt at a run back towards the double metal doors that led out of this place, telling himself that he had been stupid to come here as he found no survivors, no plant roots and, worst of all, he ended up being outsmarted by a damn fish.  
  
Well, maybe that last aspect wasn't the worst thing about this whole ordeal. No, he shook his head, the worst thing was that this event could very well be the last time he ever had the chance to go against common sense since he may not make it out alive. That meant the end of everything - no finding his comrades in arms, no bringing the lowlives who built this nightmare to justice, either legal or otherwise, no punching out his previous military commander one day, and no Jill. Not ever.  
  
Well, think of it this way, Chris, his internal monologue voiced while watching the graceful manner in which the large monster was making its way through the water, Even if you did survive this, Jill probably ain't even that kind of girl. You'll probably ask her out and she'll say that she's flattered, but she really just thinks of you as her brother. That way, with Becca in tow, you'll have three sisters to look after.  
  
The last thought brought a look of sadness on his face as he could see a partial reflection of himself in the glass.  
  
"Oh, damn. Poor Becca…", he sighed to himself, "How's she gonna survive this if I get turned into some kind of main course for Jaws out there? A little kid who weighs under a hundred pounds, for all I know, who probably can't even shoot straight because of all the book studying she's done, and running around in this shithole armed with a bunch of Molotov cocktails full of plant poison? And all I'm doing is bitching that I'm not gonna get to bang Jill?".  
  
The STARS agent turned away from the glass and placed his handgun on the surface of the only table there before rubbing his face with both hands, feeling somewhat disgusted with his conduct.  
  
"Get a grip, Chris", he continued thinking out loud as he slowly lowered his hands towards his chin, "Gotta concentrate on running faster and harder, that's all. Gotta get out of this dump and go find Becca and tell her you were stupid for ever leaving her behind in this…".  
  
He froze in mid-sentence, something that was written on the wall near the glass having caught his attention.  
  
"In case of extreme pressure, release valve", he read the sign that hung on the wall above some of the disused computer monitors in bold, capital print, "What the.... hell is that supposed to mean? Where's the damn explanation? Unless…".  
  
Following a hunch, the young man reached for the keyboard to the nearest monitor and pressed a random button on it. He was pleased to see that, contrary to his previous belief that the computers were all turned off, they were merely in sleep mode instead, and were just waiting for any sign of use before they were re-activated.  
  
"OK, please help me out here, people", he addressed the same scientists that he had been looking forward to beating up or shooting earlier in the night, but didn't notice the discrepancy, "You built this shit. You had to put together something to deal with accidents, no?".  
  
The only words that replied on the monitor were the ones that read "ERROR - PRESS ANY KEY". So Redfield eagerly slammed his right palm into the space bar, glad that the error message disappeared and what appeared to be instructions took their place.  
  
"Extreme pressure occurring, release oil pressure", he read the directions out loud before taking his attention off the screen to look around the room.  
  
No signs in this tiny space that indicated it was anywhere here. But then again, what about the second small corridor with the dead end? Hoping he was on to something, Redfield raced back towards the place that ended with three cylinders and the valves each of them contained, temporarily forgetting his Beretta that was still sitting on the table. He smiled for the first time in what felt like ages, even if he didn't have a sure way out yet, because at least he was beginning to be able to read the names for the different parts there. Sure enough, the second valve had the tiny print of 'oil pressure' printed above it, which was something he had missed during his initial encounter with the object.  
  
"So let's see if this releases it, then", he instructed himself as he gripped the valve with both hands and began turning it clockwise, and continued doing so when the valve became increasingly loose.  
  
Having spun it into a slack position, he returned to the room that contained the monitors and glass wall, casually picking his handgun off the table and holstering it as he paid attention to the lit computer screen. Hoping to see something positive take place, he pressed the Return key and held his breath. He then let it out with another smile when he read a message that appeared to be a gift from whatever god he didn't believe in.  
  
"Pull handle to drain aquaring?", he read the instructions out loud to make sure he wasn't merely hallucinating.  
  
It almost sounded too good to be true. But then again, there it was in clear, red print. So looking around the monitor space, Redfield spotted a horizontal handle that was resting at the top of an electronic station whose purpose he couldn't even begin to guess. Maybe agent Chambers could help him decipher what it's supposed to do if he gets out of here alive, finds her and brings her back here on a sightseeing tour when this nightmare ends. But for now, the STARS agent held his breath for what felt like was the hundredth time tonight and gripped the handle before pulling it down towards him.  
  
A low rumbling sound started being heard from somewhere outside and above this underwater room, so the impatient officer looked up, not able to see the source of the noise. Was that the aquaring draining, or merely something else? But before he could consider his answer, his eyes and mouth widened when he saw that the Great White shark had stopped swimming around the bottom of the deep pool in a lazy fashion, but was instead coming straight towards the glass behind which he stood.  
  
"Holy shit!", was all Redfield got to exclaim before the creature slammed nose-first into the surface of the glass, creating a spider-web crack at the point of impact.  
  
With the young man standing in place in morbid curiosity for the second time tonight, Redfield watched as the giant shark withdrew from the glass before striking it a second time on a spot that was merely inches away from the first hit, creating yet another large crack.  
  
"Oh, wait a sec! You're mad, aren't you, you son of a bitch?", a smile appeared on his face when he realized why the shark must've been so agitated, "You're pissed because you know it's working!".  
  
The shark only answered with a third headbutt against the glass, spreading the second crack it had created even wider. It was only then that Redfield realized the danger he'd be in within a matter of seconds as that glass simply wasn't going to hold against the constant assault from outside.  
  
"OK, this is our cue to leave", he finally decided as he turned back to head towards the ladder that could take him back up to the top office.  
  
From that position, he could at least be dry, and thus safe, while the gadgets in this expansive pool hopefully did what the shark seemed to be enraged at and drained it. And even if the giant in the water found a way to infiltrate the underwater room, the water shouldn't rise up above the upstairs office. Shouldn't, anyway, he repeated to himself.  
  
Knowing that he regularly wouldn't depend on anything that had the word 'should' attached to it in this place, he also knew that he had no other choice, so he began hurrying towards the ladder when the shark slammed into the glass for a fourth time. He decided to take one last look at the sinister sight of the most dangerous predator in the ocean as it tried to break down the glass for the fifth time, his fascination of such events always delaying him by a moment or two, as he was reaching for the base of the ladder to climb back up. But another screen on the monitor now grabbed his interest, this one giving him new directions, should he decide to follow them.  
  
"What?", he asked no one in particular as he let go of the ladder and approached the monitor instead, barely noticing that a sixth blow against the outside of the glass shook the small room, "To close gate, press Return now. Otherwise, press Escape".  
  
Redfield lifted his face towards the glass as a seventh blow rocked it, seeing so many cracks within the once smooth surface that he could barely see the monster on the other side of it.  
  
"What harm can it do?", he grinned as the decision was already made, "If only everything in this house was this easy".  
  
Without further hesitation, Redfield pressed the Return key and resumed climbing to the upstairs floor via the metal ladder that led towards and then past the ceiling. He barely saw a massive metal sheet that spread in front of the glass from a hidden compartment above it, but that's all he had time for as he heard an automated female voice that began making an announcement from speakers whose whereabouts he couldn't see.  
  
"Attention. Successful drain of the aquaring has commenced. Aquaring will be drained in thirty seconds", the calm, almost soothing tone informed whoever might've been within the room.  
  
"Wow", Redfield let go of the metal ladder and jumped back down on the floor, making his way back towards the metal sheet that was now covering the glass screen, "But how 'bout letting me see this? As nice a voice as you have, computer, I'd rather be shown than be told".  
  
He stayed quiet for an instant, surprised that he had expected the computerized female voice to answer. But maybe he should climb back upstairs and try to see the entire event from above, he reasoned to himself. At the same time, though, he felt an odd desire to stay here and see if the female voice would announce anything else. It was oddly comforting, he had to admit, even to the point where he'd prefer to stay down here for another few minutes before returning to the first floor to find agent Chambers. After all, if the menace of the giant shark would truly be gone in half a minute, then Redfield had gone from being pressed for time to having time to spare. And amid all that, there was that female voice. Why did he wish to hear it again so badly? Maybe it was because the tone was nice enough that it could announce that a dangerous monster was ripping people apart, and still manage to do it in a seductive manner.  
  
"Must've been put together by the same people who did the scientist porn", he mused while recalling the image of the naked woman who was on the edges of the large, red textbooks.  
  
Just as he finished his comment, the same computer screen that he had used to press Return after being asked if he wanted to drain the gigantic pool flickered with a new message.  
  
"Do you wish to view status?", the Alpha agent read the new question from the nearly-black screen.  
  
He stopped for a moment, his index finger hovering over the arrow key, wondering whether he should click on Yes or No.  
  
"Come to think of it, pretty lady, I think I do", he sniggered as he finally pressed on the affirmative button.  
  
Even Redfield had to admit he was surprised at the scenery that greeted him. A secondary screen that was approximately eight inches wide and five inches high appeared in the middle of the monitor. It was updated approximately once every two seconds, and the picture it showed was that of the entire aquaring being drained at a pace that was faster than the young man ever thought possible. The millions of gallons of water that it contained were already half gone, and the remaining half was quickly descending towards the bottom of the large cylinder-shaped pool.  
  
Barely able to believe his good fortune, officer Redfield eagerly waited to see the giant shark as it should've been uselessly trying to fight its death sentence. But to his disappointment, he didn't see the man-eater anywhere. Still, though, the hugely massive draining sound that still emanated from outside the small room was enough to tell him that the monster's lifespan had been reduced to only a few seconds.  
  
There's a reason we make soup from you guys, he thought to himself with a triumphant smile as he couldn't wait to tell agent Chambers about this particular victory.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Agent Valentine had the only figure in the lobby within the sights of her Beretta even before she had tried to recognize the identity of the creature there. It was someone, or something, who was standing at the full height of an adult person, but whether it was human or zombie was another issue. And while she was standing at the top of the staircase as she looked down at the lobby where her team had first stumbled into the mansion, the figure near the main door was too far away and too immersed in shadow to identify for sure. But whoever it was, this person was slightly hunched over while remaining in a standing position, with both his palms covering his face.  
  
So with only one viable option, Valentine kept her firearm aimed at the outline's torso while taking her first, careful step down the decorative staircase, cringing every step of the way due to her twisted ankle. It was by her third descending step that the individual who was downstairs heard her approaching and turned his attention in her direction by taking his hands away from his head. So the Alpha officer gave a smile while bending her arm at the elbow and pointing the muzzle of her weapon towards the ceiling at finally recognizing who she had been looking at.  
  
"Barry!", she exclaimed as she hurried down the steps, "So glad you're in one piece. Is the captain with you?".  
  
Agent Burton kept looking into her face until she reached the ground floor, and then momentarily looked away before returning towards her direction. The older man suddenly coughed, covering the lower half of his face with his left palm while his powerful handgun remained holstered at his hip.  
  
"Uh… No… We… Um…", Burton lifted his left fingers towards his eyes, the better to not let the female agent know that he was continuously darting towards the floor, "We got…separated!… Yeah...".  
  
"Barry, you OK?", the less experienced agent limped towards the larger man, expecting to place her free hand on his shoulder.  
  
Except that Burton turned away from her, subtly backing away as he continued talking.  
  
"Just the stuff I've seen, Jill", he sighed as his eyes remained at the floor in front of him, "It's disgusting!".  
  
The real reasons for the discomfort in interacting with his colleague were many, but none of them could be told now, not if he wanted to ensure his family's safety. And with Valentine being totally in the dark about captain Wesker's ulterior motives, there was no way for him to give her a peak of any parts of the truth without securing the gruesome fate that had been promised for his loved ones.  
  
"I've already met more of them than I care to recall too", the young woman placed the majority of her weight on her right leg as she was hoping for the much-needed chance to finally sit down, even if it was only for a few minutes, "But any news from captain Wesker or Chris, by any chance?".  
  
"No, Jill, I'm afraid not", the older man turned back around to face her in an effort to not make his behaviour appear more suspect than it already did, "I haven't seen either one of them since we got split up".  
  
"OK", Valentine sighed as she momentarily holstered her pistol, "I lost Chris a while back, but he was fine, at least when I was last with him. Then found Richard Aitken from Bravo team, then lost Richard after he introduced me to a snake that could've passed for a living roller coaster at Luna Park. Been looking for them both since, hopefully not to find that something already got them. Only good news is that I made some pretty nice discoveries along the way".  
  
With that, the Alpha team mechanic turned her upper body around, pointing her upper back towards agent Burton so as to show off the shotgun that was strapped there.  
  
"Fucking ceiling came down on me after I took it", she gave a proud smile as she turned back around to face the older man, "But that undercover shit I did a few years ago really payed off and my lockpick stopped me from becoming a sandwich".  
  
"Well, you are the master of unlocking", Burton blurted out before giving her a fake giggle in reaction to his own statement, even though Valentine was clearly not laughing at the comment.  
  
"I'm the what?", the female agent countered while the older man turned away from her yet again, the artificial smile gone from his face as he couldn't believe the words he had uttered.  
  
Her RPD associate wasn't responding as he kept looking down towards the floor while his feet slowly inched their way out of the lobby. The tension in his mind was bothering him at least as much as the first time, and subsequent many occasions, when captain Wesker had threatened his family's well-being in an effort to ensure that he says and does nothing to warn his unsuspecting friends and colleagues. Valentine was learning about this place from scratch, of course, just like Redfield was, but Burton himself had known of the existence of such previously-unbelievable creatures for weeks now. And pretending to be as surprised and shocked as his younger fellow officers surely felt turned out to not be as easy as he had expected, so here he was finding out that the part where he had to lie to their face was as difficult as the rest of his ordeal.  
  
The option of telling everything to agent Valentine entered and then left his mind, the older man reprimanding himself for thinking that any betrayal of the corrupt captain on his part could not end up with the immediate kidnapping or execution of everyone he held dear. No, Burton shook his head as he continued pressing his left fingers against his eyes in a vain attempt to reduce the stress he felt. No, Wesker's orders had to be followed, even if it meant that Valentine and Redfield had to be kept in the dark. Granted that the two officers were his friends, but Burton couldn't contemplate life without his other half, so his wife and children had to come first. At most, he could maybe sweep the area both within and outside the mansion in between the errands that the captain demanded he run, thus making sure that any monsters would meet their deaths via his Colt Python. Then, at least Valentine and Redfield would have a better chance of escaping this hell alive since, after all, Wesker had promised to let them go unharmed if they weren't notified of the true intent of his experiment.  
  
"Barry, what did you say?", Valentine was still limping towards him, reaching for his frame with her left hand.  
  
He could feel her getting closer. Why was she doing that? How was he going to get out of being around her for the next time captain Wesker wanted to have his undivided attention?  
  
The younger woman was definitely having some problems walking, most likely due to a relatively minor injury in one of her legs or feet. But otherwise, she seemed unhurt, Burton could tell that much from behind his back. Still, though, that left the problem he had before, which was now his need to separate himself from her without her becoming suspicious that either he or Wesker knew anything about the existence of this mansion before tonight.  
  
Before he could think of the problem further, agent Burton's attention was suddenly drawn to the inside of his uniform where Wesker's radio was located. The miniature communication device began to vibrate, indicating that it was receiving an incoming transmission. That was his signal that the radio would start buzzing in a matter of seconds, surely because the captain was trying to contact him as Wesker was the only one who had the frequency to the gizmo within his pocket.  
  
This was a huge problem. Once the radio emitted its incoming call, it would've made it painfully obvious to Valentine that the treacherous captain's statement about the four of them not having any radios among them was a lie, back when he had used that line on the survivors of Alpha team after Kenneth Sullivan's body had been found. Thus, Burton didn't have time to think of an excuse to separate himself from the female agent's presence. So making sure to keep his eyes towards the floor, and as far away from her face as possible, the older man simply dashed ahead towards the nearest closed door that'd lead him out of this suddenly overly-spacious mansion.  
  
"Barry! Where're you g…", was as far as agent Valentine got to exclaim while she tried to rush after him and paid the price for running on her damaged ankle.  
  
The young woman screamed out in sudden pain as she instinctively balanced her body on the opposite foot, and the only sight she saw was her colleague disappearing through the doorway and closing the door behind him, all without ever looking back. But unknown to her, agent Burton entered the dark environment on the other side of the entryway and stopped long enough to say the word "sorry", hoping she'd hear it before the door was shut between them. But he was too far away for her to hear anything he had uttered.  
  
"OK", Valentine sighed while rubbing the hair at the top of her head in confusion, "Monsters, death and dying, and he wants to split up. Am I the only one who thinks that might not be the most sensible thing we could do?".  
  
Her only response was the total silence of the otherwise empty lobby.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Officer Aitken couldn't remember the last time he had this much fun. Was it a crime to enjoy one's self amid so much carnage and death? No, the young man shook his head with a smile as he thought that it surely was not.  
  
But was it a sin? The Bravo agent frowned once as he pondered about the answer to his second question.  
  
"Yeah, it probably is", he had to admit as the grin returned on his face and he continued down the hallway.  
  
Things had only looked up for the police officer since he had left the giant snake's melting corpse. He had backtracked through the mansion, eventually returning to the spot where he last remembered seeing agent Valentine. But the young woman had been nowhere to be seen. Instead, Aitken had spotted the box that she had found, and half the shotgun shells were now missing from inside it. He thought that his colleague from Alpha team had been careless to not take them all, but he wasn't going to repeat her mistake. So despite being arguably the most heavily armed STARS member in this area, as Aitken never liked to be on the job without being accompanied by a small arsenal of weaponry, he made sure to find room within his clothes for the extra shells. So his usual cache of weapons was enhanced, even though it had already included the assault shotgun with scores of rounds placed within his uniform, a 9mm handgun stuffed into his belt that had half a dozen extra clips near it, a five-shot revolver that was strapped to one of his ankles and finally a 4-inch long switchblade that was casually resting within one of his trousers pocket.  
  
It was a quirk of his personality that often roused both positive and negative comments from Aitken's colleagues, as the Bravo officer seemed to love being armed. Agent Frost had introduced him to several other officers who felt the same on the topic of being armed, but those men did not seem to be as eager to jump into potentially dangerous situations. Aitken had never once claimed that the biggest appeal of his job was not the opportunity to handle large firearms and legally carry said armaments around, and this mission was the kind of thing he had always hoped to run into. Once in this mansion, and separated from the rest of his associates, the young man's obsession with not travelling light had finally paid off tonight. He just hoped that all the men and two women who went about being police officers with the company of only a handgun were faring as well as he was.  
  
But returning to his previous question regarding whether or not it was a sin to have this much fun while other people that he knew might've been dying somewhere else, Aitken was confused. He remembered that his childhood studies in religion taught him that whatever god was supposedly in charge always lectured that many styles of fun were sins. So as thought earlier, the answer to his question was an affirmative one.  
  
"Hang on... What the hell am I worried about?", the Bravo communications expert commented to himself as he proceeded down the dimly-lit hallway, "God's not here. Not if he's allowing all this to happen. Only I am".

He allowed himself a grin at his own wit.  
  
Just as he finished that last reflection, he spotted movement several yards ahead of him. The assault shotgun was instinctively raised at a horizontal position, its tip pointing at the source of traffic. Sure enough, the target that he was aiming his weapon against pulled its body away from the wall that it was previously leaning against and began marching towards him at a slow rate. The zombie's arms outstretched ahead of its shoulders while it moaned at the heavily-armed human.  
  
"Tell you what", Aitken cheerily stated as he quickly walked to meet the monster half-way, "If you won't tell god, then neither will I, OK?".  
  
With that, he reached the spot where the zombie stood, lifted the assault shotgun higher until the barrel was pressed into the creature's nose, and pulled the trigger once. A booming sound followed as the weapon discharged and blew the fiend's head off its shoulders. Aitken made sure to keep his eyes and mouth closed as drops of the zombie's blood splattered his chest and face, and then casually walked past the crumbling mass of flesh and bones while drying his face with his sleeve.  
  
"Bzzzzzzzzzzz...", the sound emanated from within his uniform, surprising Aitken since it took him a moment to recognize where it was stemming from.  
  
The young man leaned his assault shotgun against the wall and dug into his clothes in an effort to retrieve the radio that was making the noise.  
  
"This is ridiculous!", he thought out loud as he withdrew the gadget and stared at it.  
  
Upon being separated from the rest of his teammates, the agent had tried to use his radio to contact other people many hours ago. But it had appeared that the radio transistors were no longer working, which explained why he wasn't able to send a message to anyone. Not thinking twice about it, he had tucked the supposedly useless radio next to his unused shotgun shells earlier this evening. But standing here, the gadget he held in his hand was apparently able to receive transmissions even though it couldn't send any.  
  
"How odd", he commented further as he tried to tune the machine in the hope of hearing familiar voices on the other end.  
  
"...I can't keep this up...", a burly voice was heard through the radio, one that Aitken didn't recognize.  
  
"Who IS this? Who're you talking to?", the Bravo officer asked out loud, only later realizing that what he said couldn't be heard by the man on the other side.  
  
"...yes, I know our deal, but...", the same voice continued talking after a break of a few seconds.  
  
It seemed that Aitken was only hearing one side of a conversation, without finding out what the brawny man was being told by a third person.  
  
Another pause.  
  
"...dammit, this isn't easy!...", the strong voice picked up after the second break, prompting the communications expert to remember to look behind him to make sure that nothing was following him.  
  
"...I don't want any hand in destroying STARS...", the radio kept uttering via the same tone within the one-sided conversation, "...Fine, I'll help you as long as you keep my family safe".  
  
The radio suddenly went dead in Aitken's hand, no voices or even buzzing sounds coming out of the gadget any more. Confused, the young man looked behind him once again as he tucked the device back into his uniform and picked up his assault shotgun.  
  
The jovial smile was gone from his face now, replaced with an expression of confusion and unease after having heard that dialogue. For the first time since arriving in this nuthouse, Aitken understood that STARS Bravo team wasn't here by accident, and that it seems to have been brought here on purpose, in fact.  
  
But what purpose could that be? To destroy them by killing every member? An involuntary shudder ran through the officer as he tightened his grip on the assault shotgun. He wondered whose voice it was that he had heard on the radio and, as importantly, who that man was talking to.  
  
Whoever they were, these individuals weren't ones that he wanted to turn his back on. Only problem was, he didn't know their identity or their current location.  
  
Fun over.


	28. Chapter 20i Top of the food chain

Agent Chambers checked her wristwatch for the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes. If her constant coughing and wheezing for the last hour hadn't been bad enough, the worry she now felt was making the pressure even more intense. The hour that agent Redfield had asked for and promised to return by had ended five minutes ago, so thinking about what might've been keeping him away from their rendez-vous was enough to tighten the young woman's throat and chest.  
The youngest of the RPD's STARS knew that the constant inhilation of the various chemicals which she was forced to work with were causing her some respitory issues. The weighing, mixing and re-weighing of the various noxious substances caused small particles to be dispersed into the atmosphere, several of which she had breathed in. After all, wasn't that the reason why she had insisted to agent Redfield that she needed to leave the only exit to the chemical lab she was in unlocked? The Alpha officer hadn't liked the idea, and had no problems telling her of that opinion repeatedly, but he had to ultimately give in to her insistence, since she was right, of course. So considering that the door was unbolted for a reason, it made no sense for her to suffer needlessly while panting for air, constantly drying her burning eyes because of a lack of goggles. She should've frequently aired this room out, going outside to the hallway every ten minutes, as well as opening the door and letting some air in. But then again, doing so would've involved leaving the large chemistry set that sat in front of her, which she was familiar with, and dealing with whomever or whatever was outside, which she wasn't comfortable with. Also, why was the only friend she made in this madhouse since having to part ways with Billy Cohen not back yet? Was he still alive now, even while she was putting the finishing touches in the concoction she had succeeded in creating, or was he dead? Was she afraid of seeing him if she walked outside of this laboratory? Or more to the point, seeing him in zombie form as he was staggering towards her, no longer recognizing who she was, as surely as agent Speyer would not?  
"Stop it!", agent Chambers almost screamed out loud, angrily covering her face with the palm of both her hands.  
She hadn't calmed down, even after rubbing her face repeatedly, though the action helped ease the tension in her eyes, at least.  
"He's not dead, and he's not a zombie!", the Bravo medic momentarily ignored the work in front of her while staring ahead, both hands now holding on to the counter in front of her, speaking aloud to assure herself when no one else could, "He's coming back!".  
She sniffled back a sob as she finished talking, realizing she didn't believe her own words. So the STARS medic quickly pinched her nose with the left thumb and index finger, not being in the mood to start crying and needing to find tissues at this time.  
Besides, there was more work to do. She'd been able to stay distracted with the process of putting together a toxin that should kill the giant, carnivorous plant within a matter of seconds of coming into contact with any one of its many tentacles. She made three different vials of the substance, in fact, as three glass containers were waiting on the table in front of her, each with the fast-acting, brown liquid swimming inside of it. All she had to do was seal the beakers and then her work would be finished, and so would the distraction that was keeping her from worrying about Agent Redfield's absence. She had made the three vials with him in mind, after all, thinking that he would appreciate the chance to play quarterback against the plant even if he had somehow missed the first throw to smash the glass container on its surface. So while the three footballs were ready, courtesy from an 18-year old teenager who still kept wondering how she got involved with this mess, the presence of her quarterback was lacking.  
The Bravo agent sighed as she sealed all the beakers, not looking forward to the decisions she'd have to make once this short task was over.  
"Oh, come _on_, Chris", she finally turned away from the metal table and sank down to a seated position on the floor, resting her back against one of the table legs behind her.  
At least breathing was a bit easier when her face was closer to the floor.  
"Who's gonna throw them from a dozen yards away if you don't come back? Me?", her question prompted her to roll up her right sleeve in an effort to examine the muscular structure of her upper arm.  
Another sigh, even sadder this time.  
"Come on! I won't even be able to break the damn beaker!", she complained, not caring that she was getting louder, or that no one was around to hear her. Screaming at people who were absent wasn't helping. It didn't seem odd that she didn't know that and was surprised at finding it out now.  
Trying to rationalize events in her own head, she began to think that the situation was not so difficult, mostly because the realization that she wasn't getting the option of waiting for help to appear sank in, Chances were that Chris has already cleared the way, so hopefully there wasn't going to be anything outside waiting for her.  
The Bravo medic stood back up, withdrawing the holstered Beretta with the right hand while taking a hold of all three beakers at once with her left. Repeatedly looking from side to side with her eyes fleeting about, beginning to babble slightly as she continued to debate what she should do.  
"And even if there _is_ something there, I have a gun, and I can shoot", she reasoned to herself, "Or run away. I can do that too".  
Taking a deep breath, she managed to put a resolved scowl on her face while marching towards the closed door that led out of the relative safety of the chemistry lab. Once there, the young woman used her right hand to keep a hold of the firearm while simultaneously turning the doorknob and pulling the door in her direction. Fresh air greeted her face as the atmosphere from the outside hallway entered the misty lab environment, thus suddenly enabling her to breathe easier. Unfortunately, Chambers wasn't able to enjoy the introduction of the cleaner atmosphere because the sight of the corridor caused her to have a panic attack as she remembered her deep fear and hatred of this place. Instead, she only heard a high-pitched squeal coming from her own mouth as she quickly re-closed the door and stepped backwards into the hazy laboratory.  
"Aaaah! This isn't working!", the medic moaned in frustration at her own shortcomings as she sank back down to a seated position, this time leaning her back against the closed door itself.  
"You have a gun, don't you?!", she asked herself, looking down at the weapon that now rested on her lap, "You know what these are used for! You used them enough times with Billy before coming here, and you coped fine then! Come on, you can do this! You have to do your best".  
Chambers thought that she had never met anyone from Alpha team aside from Redfield yet, though she heard more about agent Valentine than she cared to recall. But if she wanted to meet any other members of Bravo team's counterpart, or any of her own personal colleagues, for that matter, then she had to move now. Sitting here and worrying wasn't going to make her situation any better. And what if the worst case scenario had indeed occurred and Redfield was hurt, dead, or worse? Staying in this confined space wasn't going to help him if he was hiding somewhere because he was injured.  
Besides, if Bravo team was truly the reconnaissance branch of this mission and Alpha team had been sent in to rescue them, as Redfield had told her earlier, then did it sound fair to just sit tight and wait for a rescuer to reach her? No, she shook her head, she had to get up and leave this room. She had to at least meet the other agents half-way.  
"Come on, Rebecca", she urged herself on as she shakily stood back up, the firearm and three beakers still in her hands.  
Turning around, the young woman faced the entryway from about three feet away, then leaned forward and gripped the doorknob as she had done before. Pulling the door open, she then rushed out of the entryway, not bothering to close the door behind her as she wildly waved the pistol in the area in front of her. Anything that was moving, especially the type of creature who didn't respond to her in English, would be in for a nasty time, she hoped. She just didn't know if there was a even a chance she herself could carry out that threat.  
  
--------------------  
  
"Oh, great, why is there water here? More water?", agent Chambers thought out loud as she was standing outside the currently-open double metal doors, "Hasn't the spookarama with everything else here been enough? It's not that much more weird that anything else so... Guess it won't be worse than anywhere else".  
She had climbed down to the basement while looking for the root of the carnivore plant, since she had knowledge that the lowest floor was where the infected Plant 42 had taken refuge. If she found it there, then she'd be putting her arms through at least two throwing tests, and hopefully placing the plant out of commission. If she didn't find it here, then she could climb back up to the ground floor above and return to the spot where she had pulled agent Redfield out of the tentacle's path. Then after that, maybe return to the chemistry lab to see if the Alpha agent was there after having returned late for their meeting.  
So for now, she eased her first foot into the flooded room behind the two doors, getting the tip of her boot wet.  
"Yuck!", she wrinkled her nose in disgust.  
With the three beakers full of poison resting within her uniform, some of them bumping into the Beretta clips already there, the medic had both her palms wrapped around the handle of the weapon. The better to aim the handgun with and to try to kill anything that didn't have a friendly face, as Redfield had so aptly suggested before temporarily leaving her. She pointed the barrel into the middle of the flooded basement she saw as she proceeded inside, the cold water quickly rising up to the level of her ankles.  
"This is officer Chambers, RPD. Is anyone here?", she announced herself before debating the wisdom of her decision as the green water climbed up towards her knees.  
No answers to her question, but the Bravo agent soon spotted movement that occurred in the middle of the pool. Maybe it was a person, or maybe a zombie who was waking up, or even one of the dogs, perhaps. She stopped advancing and pointed the firearm in that direction, anxious to see who or what emerged from the water, and then saw what she momentarily believed was Satan himself making a personal entrance from hell.  
An adult shark, most likely a Great White, shot its enormous head out of the water, pointing its open mouth and the many rows of giant teeth towards her as it anxiously swam in her direction. Chambers' eyes and mouth widened to near-circles as she stood in place, paralysed by the sheer sight of this monster as it rushed towards her at the speed of a train. It didn't even occur to her to either open fire or retreat back through the double doors, even as the creature was only moments away of overtaking her position.  
The young woman's thought process became jumbled. The monster was going to eat her. It was going to eat her. She was so dead, and she was going to be eaten. This was the end. This was where her 18 years on this earth came to an end, finishing up as a morsel for a fish that had a taste for human meat. And it was going to eat her!  
But then, for some inexplicable reason, the shark rotated a sharp, 180 degree turn and returned to the middle of the pool where it had originated from, thus leaving its easy meal behind. Chambers didn't know why, but the monster then dove below the surface of the water, suddenly leaving her alone within the large aquaring. She wondered what was taking place at the bottom of the pool that was so important that it wished to abandon the quest of devouring her, and it was only then that she realized she no longer wished to investigate this place any more. Turning around, the medic hurried back towards the metal double doors, reaching the dry floor there before she heard a deep, rumbling sound that originated from somewhere else in this flooded ring. It sounded like a toilet flushing, except a few hundred times louder. But regardless, Chambers no longer wished to stick around to discover its source. Instead, she jogged back in the direction she had come from, running uphill until she reached the gaping hole in the floor of the corridor that had been flooded and littered with three large, floating crates. It was only by jumping from one crate to another that the young woman had made her way past that area a few minutes ago, but now, the water level in the floor opening was suddenly dwindled. And with it, the three crates were sunk towards the floor, which meant that they were too low for her to be able to jump from the third crate to the beginning of the other side of the floor.  
"Oh... NO! This can't be happening!", she shrieked as she gripped the hair at the top of her head with the left hand.  
That watery obstacle had been her only known way out of the basement, and with it now being a closed path, she didn't like the idea of crossing the flooded aquaring and taking her chances with the monster who was patrolling that area. But she also couldn't stay here, not when the edge of the other side of the floor was now five full yards above the top of the third crate that was continuously sinking along with the draining water level.  
"Oh, Chris, I don't want to be on my own! Don't leave me here! Please don't leave me here!", she began pacing her side of the floor in front of the gaping hole.  
Chambers stopped marching and looked back in the direction of the aquaring, trying to formulate some kind of plan that had a chance of getting her out of this place alive. She worked hard to not regret the decision to leave the chemistry lab, as being there right now was sounding a lot better than her current situation.  
"OK, here's what is gonna happen, Rebecca", she began thinking out loud, ignoring her racing heartbeat, "The shark got distracted, right? Must have been something important, which means it _could_ leave you alone again. It can't be a dead end, everything here leads to some place. I didn't want to be a comando or anything!". She had to stop briefly, the fear almost paralyzing her at the thought of returning to the water lair. "I can do this. I can run when I need to. I was good at sprinting when we trained, so I can do this now. Long as I don't see it again, and if I do I'll just come back here, right?".  
The young woman began walking back towards the flooded pool, bracing herself for the dash of her life when she tried to bolt towards one of the staircases that waited over the surface of the aquaring, and which hopefully led to a way out. She was about to find out how well she could run in water that was up to the level of her solar plexus, all the while probably having to fire her handgun due to being pursued by a swimming leviathan.  
It didn't take her long to reach the open double metal doors, but once there, a pleasant surprise greeted her and forced a smile on her lips as her eyes widened again. Instead of the flooded place she was expecting to see, the entire area had been drained. The medic casually walked into the dry aquaring, handgun always at the ready in case something besides sharks happened to be around. Nearby, a shark that was much smaller than the one which had greeted her laid dead on the pavement, with what appeared to be several bullet wounds having ravaged its body. A few yards away from it, a second, similarly-sized shark was now flopping on the ground, gasping as it died on the bloodied surface of the pathway that led her to the left-hand staircase and office. No sign of the Great White fiend that had nearly swallowed her, but then again, agent Chambers was quite confident that even an infected shark couldn't walk on dry land. And the nearly-dead, smaller beast was proof of that.  
"You know, I'm just going to leave you alone to die in peace", she chuckled nervously, not wanting to test out whether or not the still-flopping shark could somehow reach her, and proceeded to almost tip toe in the direction opposite the one that would lead to it.  
Thus, ignoring the left pathway, the Bravo medic headed to her right and towards the single closed metal door that was waiting on the surface of the dry pool floor instead. She was careful to not look into the gaping hole at the middle of the ring itself due to her desire to never see the Great White shark ever again, even if it happened to be dying at the time. So reaching the door, she stood by the side of the entryway as she slowly opened it and glimpsed inside.  
"Jackpot!", was the only word she whispered as she saw what waited on the other side.  
A small room was behind the metal door, one that was only about eight yards long and half as wide. On one side of it was a group of computers and monitors, but none of them were working as all the machines crackled and had sparks jumping out of them. That was undoubtedly due to their exposure to the floodwater, Chambers realized. But the most interesting aspect of this tiny space was that the majority of it was covered in green vines, clearly those belonging to plant 42. And if she had any doubts about the whereabouts of the plant's main roots, those were quickly erased in her mind as a yellowy green root that was almost as big as her body hung from the ceiling.  
In response to her intrusion, several of the vines that were attached to the enormous root went straight for her, trying to snap her up from the very spot where she stood. But having already seen their reaction to agent Redfield, Chambers was ready and summarily walked backwards, keeping the door open as she put as much space between her and the aggressive plant as needed to be out of the range of its vines. Her pink lips still parted in surprise at just how massive its root structure was.  
"This shouldn't be possible... Plants are supposed to be safe. Even us vegetarians usually eat things like this. And I _really_ don't like it when you try to reverse the feeding order", the medic couldn't erase the cautious optimism off her face as she reached within her uniform and felt for the three glass containers there, trying to imagine what agent Redfield would say, probably something about humans being top of the food chain. She wanted to say something like that, to sound confident like him, but she just did not contain the internal calm to back it up.  
She withdrew the first beaker with her left hand, then casually placed it in her right hand and held the handle of the firearm with the left instead. She had to carefully approach the doorway, wary of the dozens of vines that were still making a whip-like sound while snapping for her, though she remained out of their reach. Taking one last step with her left foot, agent Chambers twisted her upper body counter-clockwise before tossing the beaker into the vines themselves. The small container exploded on their surface before its brown, watery content spilled over them. The vines instantly began thrashing, much in the same way that the small shark was trying to survive after the water had been drained, and at that instant, the Bravo medic knew that it was dying.  
The vines started turning black within a few seconds as their aggressive behaviour soon died down and they went limp one at a time. When it was safe enough to investigate them closer, the young woman walked further into the small room, making her way past the dead vines and nearing the roots that had made their home inside. The roots themselves had turned the colour of dead earth, turning blackish-brown as they shrivelled up and hissed a protest due to their inability to maintain their own existence.  
The young scientist could not resist the urge to take a souvenir from the monstrosity before her. With most of these creatures, it was easy to tell their species and genis, but this triffid defied everything she had ever learned.  
"Let's see if we can take a sample of you to put under a microscope later on, OK?", Chambers addressed it as her bravado was slowly increasing, "I'd think that I'd much rather borrow a piece of you as opposed to a piece of those zombies for analysis when we're not being pursued, which I really hope is soon".  
Holstering the Beretta and withdrawing her Swiss Army knife, the Bravo medic dug the opened blade into the side of the root. She then carved out a sizable amount of it for her own personal research once her team was back in the city. "This isn't so hard!", she grinned while holding the root sample in her left hand and placing the pocket knife back into her uniform, "I guess there isn't much left to be afraid of anymore. Not with you and that horrible monster outside gone".  
A moan from deeper in the room answered her statement, so agent Chambers tensed up as she instinctively reached for her sidearm, levelling the handgun into the dark source of the noise. Could another infected creature be living in this room? And how come she hadn't seen it when walking in?  
True enough, a zombie crawled out of the shadowy corner of the place, past the dead vines that were previously covering its body. It slowly climbed back up to its feet as it saw the young woman there, and it was only then that Chambers remembered what it was that she had been afraid of only a few minutes ago. Unlike most zombies she had run into until now, this one was naked and had half the skin and muscles missing from its body, so it was half skeleton and half sinewy muscle as it staggered towards her.  
"_You're_ what there is to be afraid of, isn't there? Ewww, jeez, it was eating you, wasn't it?", she contorted her face as she realized how the zombie came to be there, and why it didn't respond to her earlier, "Couldn't come out before cause the vines had you. That is really icky, am just glad it wasn't one of the Bravos or Alpha, for that matter. Still...".  
She almost felt sorry for it, as this creature clearly couldn't understand what was going on. But then again, it had probably lost the ability to feel pain a long time ago. At least, agent Chambers hoped so. With the handgun raised at arm's length, the young woman held her breath and opened fire before three quick rounds exploded out of the weapon. The zombie crumbled down on its knees and remained silent, no longer able to do anything else.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Agent Redfield stopped for an instant as he was making his way towards the first corridor that was to the left of the room where he drained the aquaring. He had originally thought to return here even though the metal door that was waiting for him had been locked earlier, but now that the flooded water should have been drained, he wondered if the situation would be different. And if not, then he only lost a minute of time and would return to the surface immediately afterwards anyway. But the reason he momentarily halted his short journey was because he thought he might've heard noise that sounded like a pair of gunshots. Then again, the young man wasn't sure what he had heard, or from which direction, for that matter. Besides, he reasoned, it's not like the last remaining shark within that complex had the ability to fire weapons at him. Come to think of it, the Great White monster wasn't any threat to anyone now, considering what the Alpha agent had done in the last few minutes that still prompted him to wear a smug look on his face.  
In recollection, Redfield remembered leaving the underwater office once he had finished watching the draining of the water from the screen on the computer. He had every intention of leaving this basement and never coming back, especially after not having found any human survivors or infected plant roots. But once he had returned to the platform that he had run across to reach the elevated staircase, he had to stop and ask himself just how lucky this event was turning out. The sight that greeted him a short distance away from the base of the steps indicated that his stay in the basement wouldn't be a total waste of time after all. That's because the second of the smaller sharks, the one that he thought he had previously shot to death, was flapping on the currently dry ground a few yards in front of the open double doors. Redfield had never been one to pass along an opportunity to make his enemies pay for causing him to fear for his life. And of course, he did not wish to waste any ammunition, at least that was the justification which he afforded himself. So the RPD officer took his time while repeatedly and angrily kicking the smaller shark's head like he was trying to punt a football, along with stomping his foot down into the creature's eyes, slamming its head against the floor.  
The memory of the second beating of a monster brought yet another smile to his face as he imagined the proud look he must've been wearing in the last few minutes. But since then, he had returned to the elevated office without taking the ascending path that led back to the three floating crates which would, in turn, lead him to the ladder to the first floor. That's because the officer had reasoned that the crates themselves had been floating in water, and since everything here seemed to be interconnected, then he expected the water that was holding up the three crates to drain also. Of course, that had left him with a dilemma of how he should return to the upstairs floors, but he had then thought of the possibility of the locked metal door that was at the end of the hallway to the left of the underwater office. Maybe that door was locked automatically after the accidental flood, and now that the flood was no longer an issue, then opening it could be an achievable task.  
Thus, Chris Redfield was back within the familiar office area, flamethrower strapped to his back and Beretta in hand as he proceeded down this corridor. He reached the closed metal door, gripped the horizontal handle that protruded from its edge. Pulling it towards him, he exhaled in satisfaction when he felt the metal door budging, if only a little. It was no longer locked, but it was also very heavy. So the young man did his best to retain his grip on the handgun while then using both hands to take a hold of the handle, allowing him to use two arms to pull the massive door in his direction.  
The welcome creaking sound followed the widening of the space between the edge of the door and the entryway, so Redfield found that he was right while guessing that the flooded area behind the door had been drained also. Walking past the now-defunct obstacle, but always keeping the entryway open behind him, it was only then that the police officer remembered the 1-hour time limit he had promised to return to agent Chambers by. He dreaded having to look at his wristwatch, as doing so would tell him things he didn't want to know, so he ultimately decided to not do so, intentionally not looking at his left wrist from then on.  
"No radios, no phones, no freaking smoke signals even", he sighed as he hurried down the few descending steps that waited on the other side of the metal door, "I'm gonna get back to you, Becca. Better late than never. Just hold still and don't be leaving that lab, OK?".  
Another closed metal door greeted him, this one with a 6-inch wide, circular glass in its middle. Looking as much through it as he could manage, he wasn't able to see anything because of the combination of dirt on the glass and darkness on the other side. So Redfield repeated the process of holding his breath, standing on one side of the entryway and pulling the door towards him with the handgun at the ready for anything that was alive and aggressive on the other side.  
Nothing but empty air on the other side, though, with a floor that ended after a few more steps, which was starting to get on the young man's nerves, especially when he was already late for his reunion with the Bravo medic. He felt that the current mood was definitely better than knowing his odds of returning to the first floor without being turned into shark food were small, but the delay annoyed him nonetheless.  
But there was something else here that grabbed his attention, something that he would've noticed sooner if not for his mental rant over this situation. The base of a ladder was visible near his feet, one that was coloured darker than the original steps he used to climb down from behind the wardrobe room. A cursory glance over the edge indicated nothing at the floor below, so Redfield quickly holstered his weapon and began taking careful steps down the ladder itself, making as little noise as possible.  
With his feet once planted firmly on the ground at the bottom of the ladder, the RPD official withdrew the Beretta once more and undid the safety in one smooth motion. He didn't spot anything as welcoming as a bright red Exit sign that would indicate the way out of this dark, damp basement, but instead saw dozens of computers and monitors, much like in the office upstairs, only on a larger scale.  
"Why the hell am I carrying this around?", he thought out loud while proceeding through the shadowy location.  
The flood had receded, after all. That meant that any man-eating fish that were swimming through the area were no longer a threat, and any creatures that walked on dry land would be stopped faster via a flamethrower than via a 9mm handgun. So placing the Beretta safety mechanism back on, he re-holstered the smaller weapon and withdrew the larger flamethrower, feeling a slight sense of relief as the blue tongue of fire was activated at its tip.  
"Let's see who wants to be first, shall we?", he slowly marched next to a set of machinery, wary of any noise that wasn't being made by him.  
Nothing but destroyed computers, printers, monitors, fax machines and the like as he made his way around the large, circular area. He did come across some unused dynamite that was sitting in a corner, but a closer inspection of its condition quickly stifled any excitement he had due to the find. The substance had been wet for much too long to ever be useful again, so regrettably, Redfield had to leave it behind.  
Walking several steps further on, though, he arrived upon a scene that stood out among the dark machinery, because the young man found the silver-coloured tail of the giant carnivorous fish who had been pursuing him earlier. The Great White shark's body was completely immobile on the nearly-dry ground, indicating that it was dead. So the RPD officer walked in its direction, still keeping his distance from it in case it was still alive and tried to reach him by twisting its head around. Without sensing any movement from the monster, the Alpha agent made his way past it with no incident. Several steps beyond the prone, deceased fish, Redfield spotted what appeared to be the frame of a doorway, so he excitedly jogged towards it at a quicker pace. Upon closer inspection, though, he sighed in disappointment as he realized it wasn't a door at all, but merely a discolouration that had made that part of the wall appear different from the rest of the region.  
Loud noise suddenly burst from behind him, so Redfield twisted around, flamethrower at the ready. He almost pulled the trigger when he realized that the Great White shark was alive after all, and now passionately thrashing about in the small puddle of water it had come to rest in, desperately trying to bite the human who was yards away from its reach. But seeing that the monster couldn't manoeuvre its body at all, Redfield's trigger finger somewhat relaxed as he knew the creature didn't have long to live whether he used his ammunition against it or not.  
It didn't mean the shark was going to die quietly, though, as it kept raging and biting the air, maybe even trying to block off his return towards the direction he came from.  
"We'll just have to do something about that attitude of yours, won't we?", he angrily questioned. The prospect of this particular creature having a nice peaceful demise had caused something to snap inside the agent's head and the rage it caused him to feel was so intense that he tasted iron as he bit down through his own tongue, the fury causing him to see red. So he couldn't avoid the temptation of pulling the trigger once, even if it was only for an instant. A burst of yellowy orange fire shot out of the tip of the flamethrower before enveloping the shark's head. In response to the painful attack, the monster jerked its face back, clearly hating the sensation of being burned as much as it hated that of being on dry land. It returned its head to the previous position once Redfield released the pressure on the trigger, an action not done because he wanted to but because he knew it wasn't right to waste the precious ammunition on monsters who could no longer pose a danger.  
"Maybe a few bullets fired precisely into your head from up there? That would shut you up for good, won't it?", he sternly asked the monster as he noticed a crate that was situated a few feet away from the creature's body.  
He obviously couldn't kick this fish to death. But going on top of the wooden platform would surely give him a better view of the Great White's head, thus allowing him to take better aim, whether it be with the handgun or flamethrower. But after a few seconds of deliberation, he came to the conclusion that exhausting either weapon for the purpose of expediting a monster's death wouldn't be professional. Not when there were other freaks running around this place that were in prime condition to kill him or any of the people he was working with. And as much as he would've enjoyed to pay this monster back for putting him in fear of his life a few, short minutes ago, he knew he shouldn't despite the satisfcation it would bring him. But he was also at a dead end, as this section of the room led nowhere. So flamethrower always at the ready, he proceeded back towards the ladder that had led him down here from the office above. He flattened his back against the wall that was as far away from the irate shark's reach as possible and pulled the trigger one more time as the monster began thrashing in its attempt to reach him. The second burning shock that threw its head back allowed Redfield more than enough time to bolt away from it, thus leaving the Great White shark behind for good. The Alpha agent proceeded back to the start of the vertical ladder, and then walked past it, moving to the opposite side of the circular area. "I take it you guys never heard of a fire exit or anything like that?", he thought out loud while visually scanning all areas around him, "You know, some way to get the hell out of here because of a fire, a flood, a colleague brandishing a gun, the need to get hookers who like men in labcoats? Assuming you couldn't just _grow_ your own hardon reliever in a test tube that...".  
He trailed off, something having caught his attention.  
It was a small wooden crate, approximately two feet tall and wide, and three feet long, and without a cover. It was also in a usually dark corner within this compound, where he could've easily missed it among the many pieces of machinery, tables, chairs and wires. Except that the top of the container had about two dozen bottles sticking out of it, every one aligned in four rows of six bottles each. The collection just didn't fit in with the rest of the environment that appeared to be solely suited for the purpose of researching sharks, but maybe the losers who were employed here kept it around as a way to relieve stress, Redfield reasoned. So without even thinking about it, he turned away from the direction he was heading in and moved in a straight line towards the mysterious container, hoping that it'd be filled with alcohol.  
After one more look around himself, the young man quickly squatted in front of the wooden box and picked up a random bottle. Sure enough, his discovery didn't disappoint.  
"Aaah...", he grinned as he stood back up to his full height, flamethrower casually pointed downward in his right hand while he was inspecting the bottle with the left, "1987, it is. A good year for booze. At least that's what I _would_ say if I knew anything about the year when it comes to this stuff".  
Grinning at his own words, he checked the inscription closer until he found what he was actually looking for.  
"60 percent proof. Oh, yeah, that does the trick", he confirmed in a more serious tone, "Three part alcohol for every two part water's a good combo to have when one is in serious need to de-stress. Long as I don't get drunk and end up hitting on Becca, but a few mouthfuls won't hurt".  
The grin re-appeared on his face as he used his teeth to pull the top off the bottle. The pain his mouth experienced as a result was more than he cared to admit, but he kept himself from crying out, so he was still in control despite experiencing the worst night of his life so far.  
"And since Jill's not around, I suppose you'll have to do", his grin widened as he addressed the bottle one last time.  
The young man placed the tip into his mouth and raised the bottle over the level of his head, swallowing three large gulps before removing it from between his lips.  
"Hmmm", he cherished the taste in his mouth, even as it brought back memories of his nights out with agents Frost and Speyer, which he then had to admit were experiences he'd never have with either man ever again. So Redfield's cheerful demeanor faded, as the thought of his two dead friends angered him yet again. A plan was forming in his mind as he relaxed the left arm by his side and looked back towards the direction where his Great White tormentor was still slowly dying.  
Granted it was dying, but also dying in peace. Redfield didn't like the latter part of that thought, despite even him having to admit that the death of a fish which was out of water seemed to be anything other than peaceful. But he shook his head. This wasn't the time to be objective, not when the giant who was a few dozen steps away from his current location had come incredibly close to ending his existence. And ignoring common sense wouldn't be as grave now since, unlike before, he wasn't placing his life in jeopardy.  
What he had in his possession was strong alcohol, after all. Some of the strongest that could be bought on the market, in fact. So if this wasn't a sign that a higher being wanted him to stop, make up a plan and pay that shark back for ever existing without wasting any of his ammunition, then what was?  
Too bad Redfield wasn't one for signs. But still, the idea was already in his head, so he went to work.  
  
---------------------------------  
  
Agent Redfield sighed, telling himself that the task ahead was actually a lot easier than any of the obstacles he had already passed through so far tonight. That didn't mean it was something that he would've ever pictured himself doing before today, of course, but still, he had to keep the entire scenario relative to the rest of the day. But regardless of the few minutes this project would take him, it was something he had to get done. After all, there was a good chance that he wouldn't live through to see another sunrise, whether he got to re-unite with his comrades or not. So if he did end up dying in this mansion, he didn't want to do it knowing that he never went through with his desire to punish the shark. After all the mistakes that had clearly been made in this place, he wanted as few regrets as possible. Placing the crate that was loaded with 23 full bottles of alcohol on the floor, the young man kept the last, half-drunk bottle a few inches away, already having promised himself to not drink any more from it. He then leaned the flamethrower which had already been turned off against the side of the wooden container. It was only then that he picked up two fresh bottles out of the crate and stared at the sight before him.  
From fifteen yards away, he took aim at the head and middle of the shark's body before hurling both bottles in its direction with a grunt. Both bottles smashed open on the monster's midsection, though Redfield wasn't even sure if it felt the shattered glass or the downpour of alcohol that covered a few square feet of its figure at the point of impact.  
"And you thought you were gonna win!", he exclaimed towards the creature as he threw two more bottles at its head.  
"I told you you weren't keeping me from her!", the fifth and sixth bottles flew into their target.  
"But would you listen?", two more wet explosions on the shark's upper back.  
"Nooooooo!", Redfield threw the bottles that he numbered as nine and ten.  
"You thought you were gonna turn me into a goddamn snack!", the eleventh and twelfth glass containers shattered just below the Great White's enormous fin.  
"Just like everyone else you got a hold of and dismembered with your two fucking groupies, didn't you?", the young man became more agitated as two more bottles were picked up and thrown against the same target.  
"Well, news for you, fucker", he picked up two more glass containers by their necks and stopped for an instant, "My girls like me while yours, yours are dead".  
The fifteenth and sixteenth bottles crashed on the shark's head, this time causing it to stir its face from side to side.  
"Ah, good, you're still conscious", the Alpha agent bent down and picked up the wooden container that had seven more intact bottles within it, ignoring the flamethrower that fell flat against the floor as a result, "But hell with this, it's taking far too long".  
With those words, he heaved the entire object over his head and in a semi-circle towards the monster. The crate slammed into shark's lower midsection, but then slid to a rest on the small puddle of water that was underneath it. Contrary to his expectations, though, the bottles inside of it remained intact.  
"Oh well, it'll have to do", the police officer picked up his flamethrower and turned it on before aiming it in the Great White's direction, "This is why WE are top of the food chain and you are not".  
A quick pull and release of the trigger sent a momentary tongue of flame towards the shark's body, which in turn touched off a bonfire as more than half the creature's skin was already covered in alcohol. The creature thrashed around and repeatedly snapped its gigantic mouth, more viciously than before, as yellow flames rose out of its head and midsection. It was all Redfield needed to see before he turned away from the macabre sight and walked back towards the opposite side of the large area. Much of the fury he felt dissipated as the flames licked the remains of the Great White, and with a renewed sense of vigor, the officer set off.  
There was more exploring to be done.  
  
-----------------------  
  
"Oh come on! This must be it", agent Redfield felt his heart racing as he spotted a single, rusted door that could be found on the wall.  
Approaching it, he held his breath as he realized that there was no doorknob, but the layout of the entryway indicated that this door was the type to open outward as opposed to opening inward towards him. The young man gave the metal surface a nudge with his shoulder, and exhaled loudly when it refused to move.  
The temptation to empty either the Beretta or the flamethrower on the doorway had to be fought, as he told himself he shouldn't rely on them, at least not just yet. So the Alpha officer delivered a powerful front kick on the side of the door where it didn't appear to be bolted to the foundation.  
He felt himself smiling when the rusted pathway gave in response to his effort, even if it only opened by about three inches. Concentrating, the young man kicked it a second time, opening it further, and then a third, which pushed it further still. He then finally slammed his right shoulder into the metal surface and the obstacle unfastened enough for him to be able to squeeze his body through as long as he moved sideways.  
Slipping through the gap, the officer felt his optimism in the odds of his survival improving when he saw that a rusted ladder waited for him on the other side. Looking up, he saw that it led several yards higher before ending in an unknown area above. So not needing any further encouragement, he turned off the flamethrower, placed it back within a strapped position at his back, withdrew the Beretta and held the smaller weapon within his left hand. That allowed him to use his stronger, right hand to climb up the ladder, which he did at a quickened pace, always careful in case the rusted steps below his feet were too weak to hold his weight.  
Fortunately, the ladder proved to be sturdy despite its deterioration, so the young man never found himself having to dangle off its side by only using his hands. Upon reaching the peak of his destination, agent Redfield found that it led him to a fairly-lit hallway, so he climbed off and looked around his new environment. It was a descending hallway that turned to the right. Carefully looking over the right turn, he couldn't avoid laughing in glee when he spotted that he was behind the area where the three wooden crates were previously floating in dirty green water in the middle of the floor. The double metal doors that led to the dead sharks was further on past that obstacle, if he had gone through it a second time, that is, which he had no intention of doing. And just as he expected, the water in that opening had drained along with the aquaring.  
But that wasn't important any more since all he had to do now was turn around and run back towards the base of the ladder that would take him back upstairs to the dressing room of the first floor. So without any further delays, the RPD agent did just that, racing up the ascending hallways until he came upon the beginning of the shiny metal ladder leading to the first floor.  
"Here's wishing you had a much more boring time than me, Becca", he thought out loud as he began climbing the ladder one quick and careful step at a time.  
He hoped to see the younger medic still waiting for him inside the chemistry lab. He told himself that he'd even take another one of her pepper sprays to the face if it meant finding her alive and well. As long as he knew that she didn't pay a price for his misplaced bravado.  
Once he was back upstairs within the dressing room, he holstered the Beretta, withdrew the flamethrower and raced back to where he remembered the chemistry lab to be. But he was still too worried to look at his wristwatch.


	29. Chapter 21 Population Two

Agent Valentine twisted around the corner of the hallway she was in, aiming the muzzle of her Beretta at whatever was making the noise she heard from the other end. The weapon quickly returned to being pointed towards the floor as she noticed who it was she was looking at.

"Captain Wesker, It's so good to see you're alive!", she gushed, feeling glad to see another familiar face since agent Burton had run off without any explanation.

"Jill... I'm delighted to see that another member of the Alphas has made it this far... safely", the older man had his back towards her as she greeted him.

The official leader of both STARS teams turned around with movement that Valentine believed she would've thought was much too calm and collected, given their given circumstances. At least she would've thought that if physical and mental weariness, pain from her ankle, back and head and worry over agents Redfield, Burton and Aitken weren't constantly distracting her. But those factors were constantly in place, which meant that she brushed the opinion aside and tried to allow herself the slight relaxation that having company should've brought her.

"Though, you _do_ seem to have sustained an injury", her supervisor commented in the same manner as he approached her, the Desert Eagle casually held between his right fingers, in contrast to the deathgrip she had been using to retain her hold on the Beretta.

"It's nothing that won't heal", she slightly shook her head, "Is anyone else with you, by any chance, captain?".

"I'm afraid not", the man in the shades informed her, slowly looking over the entire area behind her, as if he could see something there that she couldn't, "I had come across Barry earlier, but I must say he was acting somewhat peculiar".

"Oh, you've seen Barry??", her curiosity and enthusiasm were obvious as she blurted out her question in a tone that was several times faster than his, "I saw him too, just a few minutes ago, in fact. But then he got spooked by something and ran off. Must've gone out for air or something. I tried to follow him out, as best I could. I figured he wouldn't be stupid enough to go back into that forest, so figured he must've come here to the guardhouse instead. Been following the trail of dead zombies and dogs ever since, and it's really a good thing Barry's been killing them too, since I don't fancy my chances of jumping out of windows if another pack of those mutts shows up".

Valentine finally stopped talking, smiling at her own statement, even while Wesker did not, opting to retain his cool demeanour.

"I must apologize for failing to contact either you or Chris so far, Jill", the STARS leader added, prompting her to wonder as to whether or not he was listening to anything she said, "After I lost contact with Barry, it was all I could do to defend myself from these... strange creatures".

"But all these dead zombies and dogs aren't Barry's doing, are they?", the smile was still on her face as she questioned further, "I expected to see him standing where you are, Python in hand and all, but instead I see you".

The more experienced officer didn't answer with words, only crossed his arms in front of his chest and afforded her a small grin, which confirmed what she already suspected.

"Well, you'll be glad to know that us Alpha STARS haven't been doing too bad either", she got the urge to come closer to him, but suddenly had to stop as she remembered that she wasn't interacting with agents Redfield, Burton or Aitken here, as the RPD captain wasn't as sociable as her other colleagues, "I myself have been busy taking down some of the evil in this house of horrors, and I know that Barry and Chris are doing as good. We just have to find'em and maybe wait till daybreak before we get the hell outta here?".

"What makes you believe that the forest will be any safer after dawn than it is now?", was the only question her supervisor asked.

Vexing how he wasn't even interested in whether or not she knew of anyone else's condition, she told herself.

"But you are right that we need to regroup, Jill", Wesker then added while uncrossing his arms and turning away from her, "I am slightly concerned about the erratic behaviour that Barry has been displaying also. He shouldn't be left alone, especially if he's having trouble coping with the pressure".

With his back turned to her, the STARS captain smiled to himself at the comment as he kept looking at the festering body of a zombie that was several feet ahead of him.

"Yeah, captain, there's pressure and then there's how Barry was acting!", Valentine limped towards him and then walked in front of his face, forcing him to quickly erase the wide grin off his face.

"He is one of our more experianced operatives, but this is not your routine rescue mission. A degree of disconcertion is merely to be expected", he added with his usually calm and collected tone.

"Wesker, he called me the master of unlocking", the younger officer blurted out and then widened her eyes in anticipation to him seeing things from her point of view as soon as he heard that phrase.

The older man had to suppress a loud chuckle at the sheer stupidity of Burton's reaction to his other colleagues. No doubt his weapons specialist was slowly cracking, and he blurted out the phrase while unexpectedly crossing paths with Valentine.

"That is certainly atypical", he said instead, "Considering all that is happening, it appears that his mind is elsewhere. It certainly complicates matters when you have a family waiting for you at home".

He didn't allow himself the smile that the last comment warranted.

"Yeah... Yeah, I guess", she replied, "But still, why run off like that? Everyone knows that two people are safer than one alone. And if they don't, then they _should_".

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Jill, I require that you continue your search for Barry, make sure he's not gotten himself into any... trouble. Then bring him back to join the rest of the team", Wesker began backing away from the younger woman, heading towards the door that he knew waited a few steps away from the corner behind him, "If you _do_ find him, I will meet you both in the mansion lobby in exactly one hour. But till then, I have pressing business that desperately needs my attention".

"What?! But why shouldn't we stay _together_?", the urgency in her voice was obvious as she limped in his direction and reached for him with her free hand.

"Miss Valentine, you may make it to the mansion before me. If so, this could be useful to you. I'm afraid that time is of the essence, though", the team leader serenely answered as he placed a metal key into the younger agent's hand, which she accepted, before he turned around and walked towards the corner at a slightly quicker pace, "One hour, I'll meet you in the lobby then".

"But Wesker!", the less experienced agent limped after him, not even recognizing the item she had been given, but very agitated at the pain that made her unable to follow as hastily as she wanted.

By the time she had finally reached the end of this first hallway, she already heard the door that led out of the guardhouse closing.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH EVERYONE HERE?!", she yelled after him, though she wasn't sure if he'd hear her, or even if he'd come back if he did.

No answer, not surprisingly. Not even crickets could be heard outside. So Valentine leaned her back against the wall behind her and lessened some of the pressure off her twisted ankle, at least for a while.

"Welcome to the fucking mansion", she told herself while checking the ammunition within the pistol and the extra clips she carried inside her uniform, "Sane population, two".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"This is getting to be annoying", agent Redfield thought out loud as he proceeded down the carpeted hallway within the guardhouse, "Paranoia is _not_ helping, OK?".

The STARS officer had been feeling better since having found his way out of the dank basement, happy to leave the giant shark's carcass behind. But in the fifteen minutes since climbing back up to the upstairs floors, his optimism had been quickly destroyed upon returning to the chemistry lab where agent Chambers was supposed to wait for him. Redfield had looked for signs of a struggle, and luckily found none, whether they were bite marks, bodies of monsters, bullet casings on the floor or bullet holes in the walls. So where was the younger woman? Granted he had been late keeping their appointment, but that was no reason for her to do something as crazy and drastic as venturing out by herself in search of him.

The fact that he had gone from being a member of a pair back to being alone was bad enough, but the identity of the other person on his team had exacerbated the situation. Granted that Chambers was only a handful of years younger than him, but it was her complete lack of out-of-class experience that had Redfield more worried than anything else. The male agent knew that he barely survived the obstacles that had met him earlier tonight, and a large part of his success had been because he had gotten lucky. He wasn't naïve enough to think it was all due to his training and dedication. So where did that leave someone who wasn't as well-trained or armed as he was now?

"I said ENOUGH OF THIS!!", he had to cease his current outburst because he realized the absurdity of raising his voice when he was surrounded by a maze that contained half a dozen team-mates and dozens or hundreds of man-eating monsters.

The thought that he was talking to himself might've been an indication that he was losing his mind. But then again, as he proceeded towards the end of this current hallway, Redfield had to admit that losing his mind wouldn't have been such a bad idea if he wasn't able to find his way out of this hell.

"As long as everyone else is doing it, might as well join in", he added in a much more hushed tone, "Or am I seeing all these freaks here because I've _already_ lost it? Maybe I'm locked in some nuthouse right now, slamming my head against a padded cell, and Jill's the duty nurse who works there".

Just as he completed the thought, the Alpha agent froze in place, not moving forward any further due to the fact he had heard a noise emanating from around the corner of the corridor. Redfield listened for a few seconds, not hearing it again, but remaining immobile in case the slight sounds from his own body gave his presence away to hostile individuals.

Nothing new. So the officer resumed his careful trek towards the T-shaped intersection ahead.

"Must be the auditory equivalent of a goddamn mirage", he sighed as he held the Beretta pistol in front of his face, scanning the area ahead of him with the muzzle, "People in deserts see ponds of water, people in this dump hear normal people walking about".

He was beginning to consider removing the flamethrower off his back and keeping that ignited as he investigated further, in case what he heard was worse than nothing and a completely silent creature was waiting to eviscerate him on the other side of the hall. Redfield preferred to have the formidable flamethrower supporting him rather than the pistol anyway, it was just too bad that he had to keep it turned on if he desired to use the weapon on the spur of the moment, which in turn meant that it would eventually run out of fuel and be useless. But for now, using the flamethrower may just be a good idea, at least till he made contact with someone else from either his or the Bravo units.

Decision made, the young man stood in place with his back to the wall and holstered the Beretta while looking behind him again. He was about to reach behind his upper back to remove the flamethrower when his eyes widened at spotting sudden movement from the right side of the T-shaped intersection that was about ten yards away. It was a flash of blue as someone, or something, rushed around the corner to greet him. Redfield swore at his bad luck as he fumbled to retrieve the handgun from his waist holster, already knowing he could undo its safety and use the smaller weapon in a lot less time than would take him to turn on and use the flamethrower.

But the lump that had already been made in his throat eased up when he found himself staring down the barrel of a STARS-issue Beretta pistol, and the person behind the extended weapon was none other than agent Valentine herself.

The Alpha marksman suppressed the urge to yelp, the feeling of panic having dissipated. But he also had to be careful about how much elation he wanted to show on his face. After all, he didn't know how glad the female agent would be at running into him. He could already guess that there was a certain amount of relief, as would be expected when coming across anyone else who was on the same side as her, but had she been thinking about him the entire time since they had separated? The young man even suspected that he might've mentioned Valentine's name a bit too often when talking to agent Chambers, but it only occurred to him just now that he had been basing his entire infatuation on the short interaction he and Valentine shared earlier tonight. But what if he had read the entire event completely out of context and agent Valentine only thought of him in the same way she regarded everyone else in STARS?

Either way, though, Redfield knew that her initial facial expression would be a good indication of how the female agent felt. So the marksman held his breath and kept his eyes locked on hers as he deliberately withdrew the Beretta, the flamethrower no longer appearing to be as important as it was a minute ago.

The beaming smile that appeared on Valentine's face as she bent her elbow and pointed her handgun towards the ceiling was enough to erase any doubts he had in regards to how she felt towards him.

"It's about time!", she lowered the width of the grin on her face as she approached her partner, "Was _wondering_ when I'd run into you, Chris".

"You and me both", the male officer smiled back as he proceeded to meet her halfway, "You alright?".

"Yeah, just great. You're not planning on running off on me, right?", the machine expert sighed as she shook her head, with her colleague noticing her inability to walk straight for the first time.

"What's wrong?", he uttered as they came upon each other, "Where are you hurt, Jill?".

Valentine answered by placing both her arms around his upper back and giving him an affectionate embrace.

"This place is shit", she finally said out loud as she was pressed against his torso, feeling glad that someone had finally stood still long enough to make her feel better.

"No arguments here", he smiled as he kept his own arms around her lower back, "But why did you ask if I'm running off?".

"OK, well there's the good news", she informed him as they physically separated, "Although pretty damn cool, it's not the cannon on my back. Barry and captain Wesker are still alive, as is Richard Aitken from Bravo team, at least the last time I saw him before he turned and ran _after_ a living roller coaster, instead of _away_ from it".

"That _is_ good", the young man brushed his free hand through his hair, suddenly feeling strange that his arms were free after having her within them.

He didn't even notice the end of the shotgun that was pointing towards the ceiling from behind Valentine's shoulders.

"And I got some of my own", he smiled back, "Becca Chambers from Bravo team is _also_ alive and kicking. At least _was_, before she wandered off looking for me".

"Good, that's good. But here's the _bad_ news", Valentine relaxed her arms on either side of her body.

"You found Dewey or Forrest", the grin disappeared off the marksman's face as he interrupted her.

"Uh, no", the young woman winced, "I meant that all three guys that I met were acting weird and running off, especially Barry. But what are _you_ talking about, Chris?".

He sighed, trying to think of the right way to inform her of the rising body count, and somewhere in the back of his mind, wondering why he hadn't had this problem when telling agent Chambers about everyone who had died so far.

"Where are you hurt?", he quickly changed the subject.

"Uh, just my ankle", she looked down at the painful spot above her swollen foot, "And it's not so bad, really, not when you consider that I got bitten by the same living roller coaster that Richard bolted after, and all I got after it was a twisted ankle".

"You haven't bandaged it, have you?", Redfield was finding it much easier to talk about the current subject.

Or it's probably a bit too easy to do this, he thought to himself as he knew he'd have to go over the names of their colleagues who wouldn't be returning to the RPD with them.

"Haven't had time, Chris, I've been trying to find someone to pair up with since I woke up", she explained, "And wait till you hear how big this snake was".

"Not any bigger than the shark I just fried, I bet, but that can wait", with those words, the RPD marksman kept his handgun in a right grip and placed his left arm around her upper back, resting that hand underneath her armpit.

"Uh, Chris, wadda you doing?", the grin on her face reflected the surprise she felt as she was being helped back towards the direction she had come from.

"We gotta get you to someplace you can sit down and I can bandage your foot", he explained, "Preferably with the help of some ice too, but ain't sure if we can find that in here".

"Uh, but I _can_ walk, Chris", she half-protested while the pair made their way to the T-shaped intersection and then turned left.

"Sure, but let me pretend I'm useful", Redfield countered, "Give me the chance to play nice guy".

"You're _plenty_ useful", the smile on Valentine's face widened as she wrapped her right arm around his neck for support.

She had to admit that it was nice to not wince in pain with every step she took, especially considering that she couldn't see any doors leading to a more secure room for dozens of yards ahead of them.

"So what about Forrest and Dewey from Bravo team?", the serious tone of voice soon dissipated the relaxed, grinning expression on her face as she kept her eyes ahead of the hallway, already knowing she wouldn't like the answer.

"I'm afraid that they're no longer with us, Jill", Redfield explained as he kept his own attention towards the closed wooden door that was about thirty steps in front of them, "I didn't see Dewey, but Becca swears he's gone, and we both found Forrest".

"Jesus", was Valentine's reply as she whispered it and gripped him a bit tighter with her right arm.

"But good news, if you can call it that, is that the monster population in this shithole is a lot smaller now, and there's a giant man-eating shark in the basement who's never gonna eat anyone ever again", he angrily proclaimed, disappointed that it didn't make him feel better like it had a short while ago when he had burned the monster alive.

"Yeah, just have to find everybody before they all die and get Brad to come back even though we don't got a radio, huh?", she finished, "Shouldn't be too difficult, especially considering that everyone who's left from both teams can probably fit into Brad's chopper without overcrowding it".

"How hard can finding Barry, Wesker, Richard and Becca be?", he nodded his head, realizing that the task was much more difficult than it sounded.

"Just make sure you have some crazy glue on you for when you come across our guys, they're likely to wanna go off and play hero on their own without taking us al...", Valentine's face contorted as she squealed in pain.

"What?! What is it!", Redfield instinctively pushed her against the side of the hallway and turned around, pointing the 9mm Beretta behind them.

"Nothing, nothing, sorry", the young woman waved her free hand in front of her while she was balanced on her good leg, "Just ended up placing more weight than I should on my lousy foot there, forgot how bad a shape it was for a second, that's all".

"Oh, damn! OK", he relaxed enough to lower his tense posture, "Then let's get you outta here for a while. One second".

Leaving his partner with her back leaning against the wall, Redfield reached for the closed door that was within an arm's range of where they stood. The officer swiftly turned the doorknob and pushed the door open with his left hand, waving his right arm through the open doorway and scanned the bedroom that was on the other side. Fortunately, the lights were still left on, and he could quickly spot the path to the bathroom, and past it, the desk with clutter all over its surface. Beyond that was the unused bed, so no signs of life whatsoever, hostile or otherwise.

"Let's get you seated, Jill. It's all clear", he reached for his colleague with his left hand, so Valentine hopped on her undamaged foot till she took a hold of his palm.

Once inside the room, the Alpha team mechanic sighed comfortably as she sat down on the surface of the desk, happy to be in a seated position even if it meant having her feet dangling several inches off the floor. Redfield casually closed the door behind himself as he walked in after her, reasoning it was better to keep it shut so as to prompt whatever zombie might've been in the guardhouse to make some noise before coming inside.

"Not there. Sit on the bed, Jill", the young man pointed past her.

She wasn't answering him. In fact, she wasn't even looking at him, her gaze fixed on something that was behind him instead.

"Wha...", Redfield turned around to see the source of her fascination and stopped when he also noticed the bloodied handprint that was on the door itself, around the same height as a normal adult's shoulders.

"Jesus Fucking Christ",she swore through gritted teeth while the young man shook his head as he turned his attention back towards his partner,

"But for real, Jill, sit on the bed. It's more comfortable".

"Don't you ever stop making passes, even in here?", Valentine smiled despite their gruesome find on the other side of the door.

"This isn't a pass, for crying out loud!", Redfield sounded genuinely surprised and offended, "Just sit down on a surface that's closer to the floor so I can bandage your ankle".

"Oh, of course, sorry", she wasn't sure to take him seriously or not, but did as she was asked, standing back up off the desk and quickly making her way to the bed before crashing on its edge in a seated position and placing the Beretta pistol on the mattress nearby.

Valentine grimaced in pain as she undid the laces of her combat boots and then removed the shoe and the sock so as to leave her injured ankle bare. Redfield had already holstered his handgun and was crouched on the floor in front of her feet by the time she cordially offered him her foot for inspection.

"Besides, if I wanted to get you in bed, I wouldn't let this place stop me", the Alpha team marksman commented without looking up at her face, his attention still drawn to the damaged ankle he held in both hands, "I'd just ask you whether we're surrounded by zombies or not".

He patiently waited till he was done talking before he raised his head from the current task and looked up into her eyes, the grin on his face indicated he was aware of the exact repercussions of what he had said. Agent Valentine, in her own turn, felt herself smirking without even thinking about it, so she momentarily looked away, too flustered to maintain the eye contact with him.

"Man, you're incredible!", she finally blurted out when she turned her face back ahead of her.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jill", he played coy, the playful demeanour having vanished from his face as quickly as it had appeared, leaving an expression that was as serious as it could've gotten, "So you wanna lie down with me for a while, only to get some much needed rest, of course?".

Valentine's face went red as she laughed out loud, which was followed by an involuntary snort, so she quickly used her left palm to cover the lower half of her face.

"You don't have to tell me now, of course", her colleague clarified while he returned to inspecting her ankle, "You can take your time and all that".

It was another fifteen seconds before the young woman calmed down enough to word any type of reply, even as Redfield opted to sit down on the carpeted floor while withdrawing a rolled piece of cloth that was within his uniform. The fabric was usually used as part of a tourniquet to tend to anyone who had been injured and needed to slow down the outflow of blood, but the marksman guessed he could use it for this purpose also.

He just hoped that his risky invitation wasn't followed up with uncomfortable silence on her part. Redfield would've preferred to hear anything at all, even if it amounted to a rejection, but as long as it wasn't the dreadful tension that silence would bring.

"Tell you what", Valentine addressed him in a cheerful manner while looking down at his face, erasing all worries he had for the moment, "If we _both_ make it out of here alive, and that's a very big 'if', first thing we'll do is go to either my place or yours and be alone without being interrupted by things that try to eat us in our sleep. Deal?".

"Oh, absolutely", Redfield smiled back while he was wrapping the fabric around her ankle in as tight a fashion as he could without making it uncomfortable for her, all the while telling himself that he had hit the jackpot.

"But only _after_ we all get out of here, right?", agent Valentine intentionally stated as he was finishing up his task, "After everyone else is safely back at home base, _then_ we'll do all this. We have to limit the shenanigans and the smooching while the whole team's split up and we're all separated and in danger. Make sense?".

"Definitely, I agree with you there 100 percent", the young man climbed back up to a standing position once he was done bandaging her ankle and foot, "We get everyone here back home in one piece, then we celebrate".

"Celebrate? Haven't heard it being called _that_ before", she gave a second, shorter laugh as she placed the sock back on before easing her foot into the lone boot.

"That's because you haven't been with _me_ before", Redfield confidently nodded as she finished lacing the shoe, "Besides, I gotta tell you all about this place first, starting with how I'm wearing a freaking flame thrower on my back".

"At least you didn't use the 'Did it hurt when you fell from heaven' line", Valentine took a casual hold of her own handgun before leaning forward to try to stand back up.

"Of course not, I'd like to think I grew out of that pick-up back in High School", her partner countered as he offered his left hand, which she gladly gripped before he pulled her up to a standing position.

The young woman breathed in and out as she placed her entire bodyweight on her two feet, feeling glad that the pain in her twisted ankle had somewhat diminished, even if it wasn't completely gone. Upon looking into her co-worker's face, she didn't need him to ask the question that she could see was on his mind.

"Oh yeah, much better. Thanks", she nodded in appreciation, as she turned her figure into a ready stance, slightly hunched over and both hands gripping the handle of the pistol.

"Let's go find the others", he made a gesture towards the door with his head, stern determination having replaced the playfulness on his face as he undid the safety mechanism on his own handgun.

"So you wanna go first or should I?", Valentine asked as they proceeded out the door, "I'm not sure whose story is more interesting, your flamethrower or my shotgun".


	30. Chapter 22 Die Hand die Verletzt

**_His is that hand that wounds._**

"I will conceed to you, Chris, that you removed the existence of my creatures ahead of schedule", captain Wesker chuckled as he was busy examining the contents of the many close-circuit television screens that sat behind the keyboard in front of him, "But then again, you weren't alone now, were you? A finely tunned STARS machine is built on teamwork, is it not? And if anything, I'm certainly a group player, which is, of course, why I'm your leader".

The tiny room he had been seated in was only 100 feet squared, every bit of space that wasn't used by his simple, metal chair was already covered by dozens of pieces of electronics, allowing him to take a look at anywhere he desired within the vast Umbrella compound. All in all, it was a low-budget recreation of the spying equipment that was contained within the large laboratory that contained the prized tyrant creature, along with the stasis-frozen bodies of the somewhat vexing redhead and several other non-human beings. That latter place would've been where he'd ordinarily sit back and watch the progress of his men and women as they fought against the infected monsters, but he had too much to do now, so rest and relaxation would have to wait. If anything, the progress of both Bravo and Alpha members meant that he couldn't unwind till every one of them had done their job by obtaining the results that he required.

Black Tiger, Yawn, Plant 42 and even Neptune had already met their deaths at the hands of captain Marini, agent Aitken, agent Chambers and agent Redfield, in that order, and Wesker was surprised at their efficiency. None of those officers would last once they met up with the tyrant, of course, and if anything, Wesker would probably have to place one of them aside in special custody so as to ensure that at least a single STARS official was around to give him a cat and mouse game against his celebrated pupil. And once they were all eventually dead, only then would he take his time by bringing the tyrant, Ms Warren and all the other, less important specimen to HCF.

"At a later date it would be a matter of great interest for someone to explain to me how a novice like Chambers managed to wipe out a creature of Plant 42's calibre without even taking a single scratch, or is it simply that my personal training is even better than _I_ give it credit?", he smirked to himself while placing the only copy of his special key into a compartment that was ahead of him and then turning it clockwise.

A panel rose out of the section just next to the keyboard, allowing him to press a numbered code. In response, the raised platform turned around, revealing a green button on its other side.

"I must thank you all for the invaluable combat data I've received so far in regards to the 'zombies' and the Cerberus", he smiled yet again as he reached for the panel and gently pressed it with his left index finger, "I'm sure you're all so very traumatised over the loss of your recently departed friends and co-workers, but you can at least take some solace in knowing that you'll be seeing dear Joseph and Kevin soon enough".

With his short-term task completed, he would soon be indulging in more pleasant company soon, so he let the panel sink back into the compartment that it had emerged from.

"It's time to increase the ante, I'm sure you understand", he stood up from his chair before turning towards the small room's only exit, "Everything after now would only be repetition from our former employees and their pets, and I would hate for any guests in my home to become bored".

The man in the shades stepped through the doorway, exiting past the closet that was used to camouflage the entrance to his secondary, smaller control room. Closing the closet door behind him, he casually made his way towards another part of the guardhouse.

"Time to let the morally disadvantaged take over for a while", Wesker sighed, ready to go through the chore he knew he couldn't avoid, at least not for now. "I assure you however, that your time is limited."

* * *

From another part of the area, deep under cave-like structures, dozens of steel cages had their locks automatically disengaged. The lone, extremely muscular beast that was contained within each holding cell slowly crept outward, sniffing around the ground just outside of its barred enclosure. Upon finding no immediate threats to its well-being, the green-skinned creature that was stood at about six feet high on its hunched legs and back, and four feet wide at its shoulders, leaned backwards and pointed its face towards the top of the cell. 

It wailed an ear-piercing scream, which was soon followed by yells from others animals who were just like it.

Without any further delay, the monster bolted far away from the cage that had previously held it. It wasn't long before it was joined by its fellow former captives, each of them eager to hunt for living things to kill.

* * *

"Can he? Will he?", agent Aitken grimaced as he came to a sudden stop, the journey that had led him underneath the mansion having come to a halt. 

Within the underground cave, it had been hard enough to walk on the uneven, slippy surface even before the sporadic pool of blood or human corpse that threatened to make the trip more difficult to endure. Maybe he should've turned back, he had thought to himself a few times since going underground, but the secret passageway that led from the waterfall and brought him here gave him the eerie feeling that he was on to something big. After all, no one would've built a secret passageway unless there was something worth hiding behind it. And whatever that was, if he could unsolve the mystery, he'd be all that much closer to finding out the location of his colleagues.

At least he wasn't hungry any more, he grinned to himself. Having discovered a kitchen in one of the mansion's rooms about an hour ago, the officer had hit the jackpot at finding several sealed cans of cold spaghetti, both of the cheese and meatball variety. So of course he had to stop for a break, find a can opener and a fork, and help himself to all the food there before moving on. It was only while he was making his way past the waterfall and into the mouth of the cave that it had occurred to him that he should've taken some of the cans of food for his colleagues, in case they had reported being famished when he had found them later. Buy then, however, it had been too late, and the young man had to endure the feeling of guilt at having stuffed every last bit of food into his mouth before knowing for sure that he couldn't eat another bite. It had been over 30 hours now since they had been stranded here, and the whole time had been spent constantly active, so it made his normally voracious desire to eat seem measly in comparison.

But now, the RPD agent was looking at a new situation from behind the muzzle of his assault shotgun as he eyed the object of his attention. Ahead of him, a creature that was unlike any he had ever seen before stalked towards him, visually scanning him the way a wolf would look at an injured sheep. The monster was several inches taller than the officer, and probably more than twice as wide at its shoulders, with green scales covering its entire hunched body and two arms that were long enough to almost touch the ground. At the tip of both hands, five long claws were ready to pierce anything the creature wanted to die.

At another time, agent Aitken would've been afraid. But the weight of the assault shotgun that was horizontally rested between his face and his target continued feeding his confidence against whatever he was running into while at this place. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that such a dependence on weapons and technology was not a good idea, as he'd surely be in a lot of trouble if he was ever to find himself having to rely on his wits alone. It was the reason why the captains of both STARS teams had stressed the importance of every agent being skilled in the martial arts, of course, and Aitken respected that wisdom.

He'd have to sign up for kickboxing or karate lessons once this nightmare was over. But till then, he'd just have to make sure to never run out of ammunition. Besides, he doubted any unarmed human could've taken on such a ogre in single combat, not when it must've weighed twice as much as the largest person anywhere. Which brought him back to the current situation of not fearing for his safety as the green monster approached him while they were both standing on the narrow subterranean passageway. Instead, he was wondering if he'd be able to kill it with only one pull of the trigger, or would he need to fire two or more times?

"Yeah, I think he can", he held his breath as the beast ahead of him leapt in his direction, both its clawed hands aiming to take the officer's head off.

Except Aitken pulled on the trigger before the monster's arms came close to him. A booming explosion echoed through the cave as the blast found its mark on the creature's torso, just below its neck, before the creature was thrown several yards backwards and then landed hard on its back. Its arms and legs shook uncontrollably while it screamed out in pain, but the spasms only lasted a few seconds before it ceased moving altogether. Exhaling happily, the Bravo agent kept his eyes and the tip of the shotgun aimed at the monster's body as he passed it, only looking away from the corpse when he was half a dozen steps past it.

"Thousands of years of evolution hasn't prepared you for _that_, has it?", the ever-lasting grin on his face teased as he went deeper into the heart of the cavern.

"Who's there? Is that... Richard?", the voice greeted him from deeper down in the cave.

"Yeah. Is it...?", agent Aitken quickened his pace as he passed the last bit of the natural, underground corridor and found a larger, circular cavern waiting for him on the other side of it.

The young man found the source of the new voice as the second individual was seated with his back to the wall of the wider area.

"Enrico?", the Bravo agent's smile widened for an instant, but then died down when he realized how bad a shape his captain was in.

"Hello... Rich... Richard...", captain Marini gasped while his chin fell towards his chest before he lifted it back up.

The older man seemed unable to talk in a straight sentence as he was barely capable to stay conscious, his legs flopped on the ground ahead of him, a small pool of blood gathered underneath them, with his assault rifle lying nearby.

"Jesus, boss! What the hell happened?", Aitken rushed to his supervisor's side, dropping the assault shotgun by his feet before he quickly knelt on the rough ground.

"Spider... Big one...", the Bravo team captain uttered without turning to look at him before painfully coughing a handful of times.

"I've seen'em, ugly green things? Same size as us?", the younger officer tried to recall, "Look, boss, where are you hurt? Which leg? Or is it both? I'm gonna put some pressure on your...".

"Don't bother", Marini harshly interrupted, "We're not going to be let out of here".

"What? What're you saying?".

"The STARS are finished", the leader went on, trying hard to breathe as he talked, "Someone is a traitor, I'm sure of it. Just... don't know... who. But we were ALL brought here to be killed. Be... careful, Richard".

Many thoughts raced through Aitken's mind. He could've mentioned the bit of a conversation he had overheard earlier this night that ended up sending shivers down his spine. The creation of the monsters that plagued the city and the fact that both STARS teams were brought here to interact with them were intentional, far from being unfortunate accidents. But he couldn't think about that problem at the moment, as the most important matter now was to get his chief to safety, and once the captain's wounds were tended to, then they could share information and find out what each person knew.

"Put your arm around me, boss, come on", the younger man instructed as he brought himself closer to his fellow agent.

"We're being watched... All of us, every member of... Bravo and Al... pha", Marini either didn't hear him or just ignored him if he did, "Combat... data... Be careful!".

"OK, I understand, really", the Bravo communications expert lied, realizing he had no idea what his superior was referring to, "But we'll deal with that later, boss, for real. Let's just get you outta here!".

"You don't!", Marini's perception impressed his subordinate, as he was able to tell that Aitken didn't understand the gravity of the situation despite his current state of mental and physical exhaustion, "You're being watched... because someone wants to see how... how...".

What might've sounded like a firecracker rang out from the direction that Aitken had come from. But the young man had been around projectile weapons long enough to recognize the noise from a firearm when he heard it. Even while he was impulsively reaching for his assault shotgun, he witnessed an explosion of blood erupting from the upper left side of Marini's chest. Aitken recognized that spot to be the one where the human heart was located, especially after the years he had spent being trained on how to aim for it when discharging his many weapons. So he knew that his captain was dead even before his widened eyes had the chance to narrow back to their usual size.

His attention quickly turned towards the source of the gunfire while his right hand had gripped the handle of the assault shotgun. Seeing nothing, he leapt up to his feet, weapon at the ready, as he looked back down at the Bravo commander's face, only to see the older man slumping lifelessly against the natural wall of the cave without making another sound.

"Boss?!", Aitken knew he was wasting his time even as he called out to get Marini's attention, as his leader hadn't been wearing any kind of body armour to shield his heart from the lone bullet, "BOSS?!".

The lack of response was all the stimulation he needed before he bolted out of the spacious cave, back into the narrow underground corridor, past the corpse of the green-skinned beast that was still lying on its back. Off in the distance, he spotted what seemed to be a human being as his prey was nearing a left turn, so he stood in place and raised the powerful weapon in front of his face with both hands, carefully taking aim with the small amount of time he had.

The Bravo agent feverishly pulled the trigger five times, a miniature firestorm bursting out of the assault shotgun and rushing to strike his intended target. He wasn't sure if he had missed his prey or not, so he resumed his chase, running to the spot where he had lost sight of his mark. Once there, though, he could clearly see the lack of bloodstains on the walls or ground, so it was obvious that he hadn't struck his target at all.

Agent Aitken felt a disappointed moan escaping his mouth. His frustration was for a good reason, as he was currently near the entrance to the cave, just before the drained waterfountain that was outside the mansion upstairs. That meant that whoever had killed his team leader had already reached the dark, outdoor environment that waited for him to the immediate exterior of the cavern, and that, in turn, meant that the assassin could've literally gone anywhere from that point, safe in the knowledge that his pursuer wouldn't be able to track him down. So his last good chance at stopping the murderer who had stolen captain Marini's life had been when he had fired several shots against his target. But alas, all those shots that were fired courtesy of him had missed, which left him with a cold track and a killer whose whereabouts he no longer knew. It had to have been one of the individuals that he overheard talking on the radio earlier in the night, the young man told himself, and rather than backtrack and return to where the Bravo captain's remains rested, Aitken found himself charging towards the mouth of the cave anyway.

He didn't expect to find anything useful in the night air, and had no idea what he anticipated doing anyway. But he rushed to the bottom of the drained waterfountain regardless and climbed back up from the metal ladder, reversing the direction he had taken earlier to climb down towards the underground cavern.

True enough, only the sounds of crickets greeted him. His quarry was long gone.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!", Aitken angrily yelled out into the light breeze, hoping his enemy would hear him.

He wished that the outburst could've helped him feel better, but that just wasn't the case.

Instead, the Bravo agent raised his assault shotgun and contemplated the idea of simply firing into his pitch black surroundings. But he eventually decided against that decision since the risk of accidentally striking one of his comrades would've been too great. Considering that both STARS teams were already being played like rats in maze, the last thing he wanted to hear was that one of his colleagues had been struck by a stray shotgun blast that ricocheted off a wall, went through a window and then found its way into a fellow officer's torso.

So agent Aitken lowered the heavy weapon, his head and shoulders slouched as he accepted the short-term impossibility of him doing anything positive, and turned around to head back into the caves below.

* * *

"Marini was useless. Always the sycophant, constantly worried about his position and the danger of being replaced by Barry or Chris, officer Aitken", captain Wesker thought out loud after he made sure that his pursuer had lost his trail, "It was merely an act of mercy on my part, seeing as to how he would only have slowed you down anyway, which in turn would have debilitated your ability to provide useful data". 

He chuckled lightly, well aware that officer Aitken may not see things that way.

"Still, it's most fortuitous for you that you were not able to match my speed", the man in the shades added as he replaced the empty bullet casing within his Desert Eagle, "I would've hated to remove you from this experiment. Your value against the animals is _much _too important for you to be killed like your former group leader. So _do _try to not be a disappointment to me by ceasing your relentless pursuit of the remaining creatures".

Just as he finished talking, he heard a slight growl emanating from a position behind him, which naturally prompted the high-ranking Umbrella official to whip around in place, the barrel of his weapon already being pointed at the source of the noise even before his eyes comprehended what he was looking at. But Wesker stood his ground, not retreating, but not opening fire either, as he caught sight of a large-clawed, green-coloured hand that was gripping the side of the cave that he had walked through a few moments ago. Above and behind the deadly, monstrous hand was a non-human face which was the same colour, its grotesque features unmistakable even in the dimly-lit underground. So seeing the human there, the beast revealed itself from behind the natural wall, its full figure being even wider at the shoulders than the human's, as it hunched forward in a relaxed form while approaching its prey.

"You do not _appear _hurt", the taller, but ultimately physically weaker person stated in an even voice as he holstered his weapon, feeling as nonchalant in the company of this monster as he did with any human, colleagues or otherwise, "Which is good. But let's not forget your mission to help me. There are _many _more who are waiting to be pursued by you".

He stopped briefly.

"Like the fine young man who came so close to finding out who was behind this whole, controlled little game, for instance", he found himself wishing that his hunters could take specific orders, instead of merely broad ones to always be loyal to him, to attack all other humans with relentless ferocity, and to seek him out in the event of an injury.

For starters, Wesker knew that officer Aitken was going to be the first agent within the mansion or on the ground around it that he wished to watch. The Bravo communications expert had actually chased him on foot, and come closer than the Alpha team captain ever wanted to admit to catching up with him. No one else from either teams had come so near to finding out his identity as the mastermind behind the force that was destroying Umbrella's Raccoon City branch while pulling the strings of all the STARS agents as if they were nothing more than puppets.

After all, of all the surviving agents, Chambers was still cowering in fear, Redfield was too busy raging over his fellow officers' deaths, Valentine appeared lost without Redfield's company and wandered about in a desperate bid to find him, and finally, Burton came into this scenario as his slave, and he would die as such. Only Marini had been lucky enough to discover some of his paperwork, all by accident, of course, but Wesker's identity in the double cross had never been in jeopardy, partly due to him having placed his alter ego's performance on the combat sheet. Thus, Marini had died believing that poor Albert Wesker was tricked into fighting the monsters in this mansion just like everyone else, and now that he was dead, he couldn't share his information with anyone, even if the Alpha captain hadn't reached him fast enough to keep him from gasping out a few, precious words to agent Aitken before efficiently dispatching of him.

But among all those sub-standard performances, it was only Richard Aitken who had persevered during the tests, at least so far. The younger man's performance against Yawn had been one that even earned Wesker's attention, but he still hadn't found any reason for concern from the Bravo member's abilities, until he had been dashing for the cave's exit, with the heavily armed communications expert opening a torrent of fire against him from only 20 to 25 yards away. In Wesker's opinion, such an execution was what he considered to be above and beyond a STARS agent's ability, which meant, in turn, that young Aitken was going to be watched a lot closer now, and also that he would have more than his fair share of monsters unleashed in his direction.

"Which is where _you _come in", he gently patted the green monster's head with his left palm, in a show of affection that was the limit of what the Umbrella scientist was ever capable of, "It's exactly how I trained you and all the others. Just simply kill all the humans, and then you can rest. Also do feel free to stroll through these caves till the _other _one who's wandering through here has met an unfortunate end".

The hunter locked eyes with the taller human for a few seconds before it emitted a slight moan, quietly nodding its head in a mixture of agreement and obedience before it turned away from the STARS captain and bolted back into the caves that it had emerged from. It was only after he watched it disappear into the darkness that Wesker turned his attention aside. He intended to return to the place that was his second-favourite one within the entire Umbrella complex, behind only to the lab where his precious tyrant specimens were kept in stasis, that being the screen room where he could watch every room and hallway inside the mansion via close-circuit television.

But he had barely taken a pair of steps in his preferred destination before he saw a brief glimpse of red hair waving in front of him before it disappeared into nothingness. So Wesker stopped, confused about the meaning of what he had just witnessed. Was Shakahnna Warren trying to haunt him through her subconscious? Or did this mean something totally different?

He was still searching for the answer when he felt the presence of the person he despised more than officer Aitken, all the Warrens and vice president Claymont combined. In fact, it was someone that he loathed more than any person who got on his nerves enough to deserve to be on the receiving end of a human experiment. That's because Albert Wesker felt his other personality struggling to take control of his body and mind, proving that the duty-boundcop who kept caring about others' lives was clearly more agitated, which explained why the self-righteous imbecile was even able to make his presence known when the Umbrella-bred identity hadn't intentionally allowed him to.

On any other day, Wesker would've easily had the strength to push that paltry attempt for control away, shoving him back into the depth of his subconscious until it was convenient for the Umbrella scientist to give up control of the body for a while. But tonight, Wesker had to conserve his energy for all the plans he had in store for later, and struggling with the weaker personality now would've only left him exhausted during the most important part of the experiment which was due to take place in a few, short hours.

"This is most inappropriate", the man in the shades hissed, partly because of his disgust at the presence of his other half, and partly because he knew he had to concede to the latter's desire, "But enjoy your freedom and your life while you have it, because you'll be leaving me permanently alone soon enough".

A violent shake of the head followed before captain Wesker gripped his forehead with his left fingers, wondering if he was beginning to feel the start of a headache.

Satisfied that he wasn't, he smoothly withdrew the Desert Eagle before habitually checking to make sure it was fully loaded, which it was. Looking around at his surroundings, he realized that he wasn't sure where he was, but he'd just have to keep moving till he found the others.

After all, the sooner he tracked them down, the sooner he could ensure their safety.


	31. Chapter 23 The Beginning and End of an ...

**_Just want to thank all my regular readers and reviewers and especially my husbands and wives. You guys are the best!_**

**_-_**

"Where the fuck do I be this time?", Shakahnna glanced around her dark environment even before looking at her own arms and legs.

The wet lab coat that hung to her figure indicated that she was probably experiencing the present tense, as opposed to witnessing the past, which had her being dressed in casual, dry clothes that she felt more comfortable with. So that was relatively good news, because it meant she could at least try to communicate with any friendly individuals she came upon, despite her constant inability to speak to them conventionally. But of all the places her mind could've sent her, why did it do so to some underground cave?

Regardless of the unknown reasons for being here, though, she was now standing at the alcove of a strange cavern. The redhead casually browsed around, seeing that the area was carved within the earth itself, either naturally or not, since the ground, walls and ceiling were made out of the same rock. There must've been a light source somewhere, as there were no openings to allow sunlight through, but the entire area wasn't pitch-black, so the girl deduced that she just couldn't spot where the illumination was coming from at this moment. And locating no one else there, the teenager went about the task of trying to find a way out of this place, seeing that the cave was approximately half a dozen yards wide and probably hundreds of steps long in both directions.

Shakahnna winced when she noticed that the pathway to her left was a dead end after about a hundred yards. So turning around, she could only guess where it led towards her right, as another two hundred yards in that other direction was another right-hand turn.

"Umm…", the teenager looked back at the dead end one more time, then paid attention to the steel door that was located in an 4-foot wide indentation in the otherwise smooth cavern wall that was much closer to her position.

In fact, she had materialized within a few feet of the closed entryway, so why was she planning to proceed so far away when an obvious exit was so close? So Shakahnna strolled towards it, a distant part of her mind feeling thankful that she wasn't feeling the cold that being drenched wet should've made her experience.

It was only when she reached for the door and tried to grip the semi-circular handle that she fully remembered the extreme inconvenience of her reality. That's because her transparent fingers simply passed through the mechanism that would've otherwise allowed her to see if the door was locked or not.

"Aaaaaaaaah! Fuck! Grrrrrrrrr!", the teenager swore through gritted teeth as she reflexively attempted to pull the door open three more times, despite objectively knowing that persistence wouldn't pay off here.

She held her breath and tried to walk through the vertical obstacle, hoping that her ghostly status allowed her to have the freedom to bypass doors and walls even as it forbade her from touching anything. Alas, she met the steel surface and gently bounced off it, almost as if her body was made out of flexible rubber. So Shakahnna cringed her face in a distortion of its natural expression.

"All these minuseses without a single plus! This be's ridiculous!", she thought out loud, not sure who she was addressing.

Looking upwards and angrily pointing her index finger towards the sky, she voiced her displasure, "I demand you start playing fair immediately!".

Not surprisingly, though disappointingly, no one answered her petition. So the young woman furiously raised her bent arms towards the cavern ceiling, screaming out a cry of frustration.

"SHAK!", the voice that she heard from behind wasn't her own.

Someone there could see her, and was trying to get her attention.

The redhead spun around, the smile finding its place on her face as soon as she recognized captain Wesker while the older man was quickly walking towards her from the end of the cavern that had previously been to her right. With his sunglasses always covering his eyes, she noticed. After all, the RPD captain wasn't one to change his daily habits just because he was involved in a situation that resembled hell on earth. If nothing else, that thought cheered her up even further, prompting her to raise her right hand and wave those four fingers in his direction. The urge to run up to him and hug him came and had to be repressed, Shakahnna realizing that there was no point in wasting both their time in doing things that were impossible for now.

The STARS captain was glad to see her too, that much she could tell, as he approached her location and slowed down his pace. Finally standing still within an arm's reach of her figure, he kept the Desert Eagle in his right grip while carefully removing the sunglasses with his left.

"We've already established that you can hear me, that's good", the police officer sighed, his calmer eyes locked with her over-excited ones.

"Uhuh!", the teenager nodded her head repeatedly in a hurried fashion, without recalling that he couldn't hear anything she said.

"I will not waste my time asking what the hell's going on here, not when you can only bob or shake your head", he continued in his usual tone of voice, the one that indicated he was still in charge and would always be in confident control of the situation, regardless of how hopeless everything seemed, "But I'm _guessing_ that you're still alive. So can you at least tell me where you are? Where your body's located so we can perform a reverse exorcism or something?".

"Well that may not be strictly true...", the redhead stopped.

Shakahnna bit her own tongue to keep from talking further, the easier to concentrate on her sign language. She first held up her right index and middle fingers, indicating the number 2, and then eagerly pointed her left index finger at her friend.

"What? Two what? You know that we're travelling in pairs here? Is Chris in trouble?", Wesker replied, confused further by what she was trying to communicate.

Frustrated, the teenager dropped her arms by her sides and shook her head.

"I fucking HATE charades!", she hissed to herself, "No, Weskie!".

"Look, some STARS are still here with me, we're canvassing the area", he continued, "Do you know how far away you are from our current location?".

Shakahnna sighed as she had to shake her head, noticing she had no idea how far the hellish lab was that Wesker's other personality operated and kept her confined in, or in what direction from this place. A sadder expression appeared on her face as she began feeling more desperate. No way to know how long she'd be allowed to stay here, in the precious chance to communicate with a friendly person, but panicking definitely wasn't going to help.

"No, Weskie, there be's TWO of YOU!", she emphasized by prodding the left index and middle fingers towards his torso, "Can't you be's reading lips or something?".

She also placed her left index finger in between the right index and middle ones, indicating a make-shift pair of scissors that was simulating the cutting of her finger.

"You did this!", she kept raising her voice, hoping he'd be able to understand what she was saying.

"Chisholm _did_ show me the finger he found in that box", Wesker confirmed, working hard to understand what she was trying to say, "But your finger's fine. What does that mean? Are you saying that finger belonged to someone else?".

"No, no! It _was_ my finger", Shakahnna sighed again while pointing at herself, "Just that it... I'd be having problems explaining to you even if I _could_ talk, Weskie, but that's not what...".

What she had heard finally sank in.

"Wait a sec. You sented my finger to Chino?!", she blurted out, "You bastard!".

"I'm not following you, slow down", the officer's calmer voice interrupted the resentment she was feeling towards her shaded captor.

The person she was addressing wasn't the same one who had kidnapped her and had a fetish for Nazi-style human experimentation, after all, so no point in getting distracted when time was short.

Wesker took a step closer as he attached his sunglasses to a pocket on the outside of his uniform. He was getting ready to place his left palm on her shoulder, probably by impulse due to seeing her becoming more upset, as he clearly couldn't touch her any more than she could make physical contact with him. But before his hand could even try to clasp her shoulder, they both her a distinct click that sounded underneath one of his shoes. Both Wesker and Shakahnna looked down at the source of the noise, but the RPD officer looked back up to her first and gave a short, but noticeably loud, yell. The teenager initially thought he was screaming at her, but soon found out that he was actually looking over her shoulder to something that was behind her. She turned around in time to spot a huge, circular rock boulder, almost as large in diameter as the width of the cave itself, as it barrelled towards them both from the left end of the cavern.

Instead of the dead end that the redhead believed she was looking at just prior to the STARS agent finding her, that place turned out to be a trap for the spherical stone as it patiently waited to flatten anyone who walked in front of it.

Shakahnna screamed too as the rock came ever closer, her heart pounding in her chest as terror forced her eyes closed, not understanding what Wesker said as he dove sideways and into the only indentation in the wall after trying to drag her to safety with him. His free arm merely passed through her form before he landed on the hard ground that was in front of the lone door there, his face meeting the flat rock an instant before the boulder passed through the narrow cavernous corridor behind him.

The officer heard the explosive crash further down the cave, as he guessed that it most likely slammed into the right corner that he had used to come here to begin with. As he began climbing back up to his feet, he couldn't help but wonder the status of his sunglasses. Granted those shades were supposed to be scratch-resistant, but did that mean they could withstand the weight of an adult male crashing down against them? Not that the issue was that hugely important, of course, not as long as Shakahnna was still around to continue trying to tell him what he needed to know so he could find her.

Captain Wesker looked back up to where the redhead had been standing as he rose to a standing position, and felt a knot in his throat when he d he was alone and the teenager was gone.

He supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised. Whatever condition was afflicting the redhead, stress seemed to be causing her to disappear faster, and seeing a death-trap rolling towards one's self obviously counted as a stressful event. The STARS agent couldn't even remember what had prompted him to enter the mouth of this cave in the first place, but having seen the missing redhead here, it had made him optimistic that he was on the right track to finding her. Now, that optimism was gone as quickly as it had appeared. That, on top of everything else that had happened so far, wasn't helping him feel any better.

"Miss Warren?", he asked out loud simply to be sure.

No response, unfortunately.

Was the teenager dead and informing him that she had moved on from this life, or was she still alive and trying to tell him of her location? And why was she the only person he kept running into, when she was a ghost who was unable to interact with her surroundings, while all his colleagues from Alpha team still had no interaction with him despite not having her handicap? And what did the mayor's adopted daughter have to do with Umbrella? Was she being held somewhere in the mansion's surroundings simply because she had been snooping around the Warrens' home after she became suspicious of Umbrella's corruption? And how had a teenager deduced that there was something wrong with Umbrella within a year, while he hadn't been able to see those same warning signs even though he had worked for that damn company for two decades? And why didn't Miss Warren ask for his help if she suspected that Umbrella was committing the worst type of crime against humanity, instead of sneaking behind the Warrens' back on her own? And why didn't Umbrella, White Umbrella, and Claymont, you fucking son of a bitch who's going to eat my gun and every round within its clip once I find you, just be happy with the lucrative contract they had with the federal government, and instead have to do human experiments that perverted nature to the point where monsters that had no place in the world were created? And why the hell was he still experiencing those damn blackouts and finding himself in places without remembering how he got there? That was so damn annoying. And why was he stuck in this maze, incapable of finding anyone that he worked with, when all he wanted to do was put his Desert Eagle into Claymont's mouth and pull the trigger, and then find mayor Warren as well as police chief Irons before pistolwhipping both men to death? And did he mention how Miss Warren was so desperate to talk to him but couldn't no matter how hard she tried? And why does she keep disappearing like that? What the hell was going on here?!

As the last thought entered his head, the RPD captain angrily punched the steel door that was in front of him with a left fist, hearing a sharp crack in those fingers as pain travelled through his hand, forearm and finally upper arm.

"Smart move, Albert", he finally calmed down from the rage that had momentarily engulfed him, shaking the sore left hand before gently placing it against the cold surface of the door in an effort to reduce the throbbing.

Movement, further ahead of his position, coming from the direction that the boulder had rolled from. Wesker quickly withdrew his painful left arm away from the surface of the door and raised the right arm that had been hanging by his side in a relaxed fashion until now. The Desert Eagle that he clutched between his right fingers aimed at the vertical, two-legged creature with large claws on each hand who emerged from the large opening behind the spot where the boulder had been waiting. The officer tensed up just a little when he recognized that a hunter was approaching him. His index finger on the weapon's trigger, he was ready to pull it once and send a .50 calibre round through the monster's face.

But something about this hunter's body language made him hesitate. While all the previous hunters that he'd come across as a member of Umbrella's security team had been aggressive, this one was casually walking in his direction, almost as if it was affectionate towards him. While the creature was about two dozen steps away and still coming closer, the RPD captain withdrew his sunglasses and placed them back on his face upon finding them to be in good condition, the handgun always aimed at the hunter's head.

There was something different about this animal, Wesker d as it came closer still. For starters, it didn't have the same boils all over its body that every beta hunter did. Its skin was also coloured green, rather than the mixture of blue, red and green that the beta hunters of his past sported. And lastly, while every beta hunter he had ever seen had tried to, or at least wanted to, rip him apart, this particular creature was amicably walking towards him while it purred.

"This is most certainly unorthodox", Wesker commented to himself as the green-skinned alpha hunter came to within an arm's reach of him.

With the barrel of the handgun still pointing between the beast's eyes, the man in the shades took a step back while bending his right arm at the elbow and bringing the handgun closer to his chest, while carefully reaching forth with his left arm. Then, captain Wesker did something that he had believed to be impossible in all the years he had worked for Umbrella, because he patted the huge monster's forehead. He gasped in surprise when the hunter purred louder in response to his effort, actually rubbing the top of its head against the bottom of his left hand.

"What _are_ you? Can you understand me?", the human inquired in a whispered tone, cautiously eyeing the distance between himself and the creature as it cordially nestled its body even closer to him.

He couldn't afford to keep the firearm pointed anywhere other than the hunter's face, despite the incredibly friendly way it was acting, not when he remembered its strength and ability to take off a human's head with a single swipe all too well. But for all intents and purposes, such precautions seemed to be unnecessary at this time.

"I never pictured your species to be the conversational type. Despite your actions, there is nothing to suggest that you're intelligent enough to comprehend and respond", Wesker continued addressing the beast as he slowly crouched lower on the ground, weapon always at the ready.

Sure enough, the hunter mimicked his action, sitting down on the cavern's ground just in front of him. For the next several heartbeats, he simply stayed immobile, listening to the ultimate killing machine as it happily purred and adored being in his company.

"This is _most_ surreal", he shook his head, "But I suppose I shouldn't stay here. There are people that I have to find. So you remain here and stay out of trouble while I look for them, OK?".

The former Umbrella employee stood back up to his full height, that being a few inches taller than the beast was, but he was also at least two feet more narrow at the shoulders, and he knew better than anyone to not be deluded by an opponent's looks alone. But was this creature an adversary, who stood back up on its feet in response to him, and even patiently waited for him to move and before following him?

"No, you stay _here_", he pointed at the ground as he began walking backwards with his right arm relaxed by his side now, "If you are some strange form of domestic creature, then everyone will be pleased at your lack of hostility, but that does not make it suitable for you to leave this place".

Not satisfied, the green-skinned behemoth opted to follow him, almost step by step, insistent on keeping him company.

"No, you misunderstand me", the police officer shook his head, exasperated that he had to deal with this situation, "I did not that Umbrella worked on body guards as well as B.O.W.'s. It does not make sense for you to accompany me due to the fact...".

Wesker grasped the fact that he wasn't able to finish that sentence. This creature wasn't acting aggressively, after all, and as long as it continued being docile towards him and every other STARS member, it may even be an asset to be used in areas where he suspected a trap may be waiting. Or it may be able to sense when other creatures were about to attack, as animal awareness was usually much sharper than a human's.

"Alright", he sighed while partially turning away from the monster and pointing away from themselves, "This way, but you better keep up with me, and no hiding behind me when zombies or spiders attack, else we may find ourselves with a disagreement".

The hunter moaned lightly as it relaxed its arms by its sides and happily walked next to him.

"I can just imagine Miss Warren wanting to be the one who names him now. Well, if she can keep a pet squirrel that bites everyone it sees, there is no reason the same thing can't be done with my new acquaintance. Assuming of course that she is alive and well", he uttered to himself while rolling his eyes as they both proceeded towards the closed metal door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Captain Wesker didn't understand what he saw when he warily pulled the double doors open. On the other side of the short corridor was a doorway whose door was missing. Instead, a solid concrete wall seemed to fill the room behind that surprising entrance. The RPD official felt puzzled as he approached the strange area, looking from the odd sight ahead of him to the friendly hunter who was to his left, and then back to the concrete wall again. Once there, he squatted in front of the uncrossable entryway in an effort to understand how this particular place came to be as it was, and why.

Tapping on the concrete wall behind the broken doorway indicated that it was a massive slab, and most likely filled the entire room that was behind the missing door. But upon closer inspection, Wesker also spotted wooden splinters that were lying underneath the concrete, prompting him to raise an eyebrow as he guessed that they belonged to the missing door itself. So the officer stood back up, having quickly accepted that there was no way for him to get past such a massive obstacle, even if its existence made him ask several questions that he had no answers for.

Instead, the RPD official looked to his left, eyeing the continuation of the hallway in that direction, until it arrived at a right turn about ten yards away. So he briskly made his way there, always trailed by the green-skinned creature who patiently waited for him to walk first before following him in a pace that was intentional enough to never move faster than the human.

Once in the new hallway, the first sight that greeted the pair of wanderers was the set of four closed, waist-high windows that were next to each other and leading to the dark scenery outside, the first two windows separated from the third and fourth by a wooden pillar only. All four windows reverberated due to several zombies which were slamming their fist against the glass from the outside. Wesker held his breath and felt his heart rate speeding up as he hurried through that corridor, not wishing to spend his limited ammunition on the creatures if they lacked the ability to break through the windows. He and his companion traversed past the first two windows and were near the wooden pillar when he heard the first sound of shattering glass from behind him. Twisting around even as he brought the Desert Eagle at an arm's length in front of his face with the right hand, the RPD captain saw two zombies crawling through the first of the four windows. Pieces of broken glass that were still embedded in the perimeter of the window caught in the two monsters' torso, causing pieces of skin and muscle to be torn out of their bodies as they continued their trek into the hallway. It was still disconcerting to Wesker to see his enemies' resilience, even if he objectively knew that they were unable to feel any pain whatsoever.

With the pair of bloodied zombies making their way onto their feet and spotting him, he backed away from them, walking past the third and fourth windows while aiming for the first of the two monsters. Even before Wesker had a chance to pull the trigger, though, the last three windows shattered inward almost in unison and in an explosion of glass. The lone human there partly bent his upper body away from the pieces of sharp glass, raising his left forearm in front of his face. Fortunately, none of the debris hit him, though a few stray pieces struck the docile animal who had accompanied him so far, but the large creature didn't seem to react to that stimulus. Unfortunately, though, Albert Wesker now found himself staring at a collection of nine zombies who were slowly creeping towards him through the broken windows, while his trusty handgun only allowed him to carry eight flathead rounds at a time.

The debate was being quickly decided upon whether to annihilate as many fiends as possible via his Desert Eagle before either trying to reload or trying to engage the rest in single combat, or to simply turn away from this confrontation and run away from them. He soon made up his mind to carry out one of the versions of the plan that didn't involve him running away from these taller-than-average opponents, if for no other reason than to just ensure that they wouldn't be around to threaten any of his RPD colleagues in the future. So pointing the barrel of his firearm into the face of the nearest zombie, he first felt a rush of air as the hulking form of the gorilla-sized creature leapt away from him and towards his nine attackers. The green creature angrily swung its right arm, the claws from that hand passing through the neck of a random zombie and easily decapitating the smaller monster. The zombie's head bounced off the floor and rolled away from everyone even as the rest of its body remained standing in place.

Wesker's hunter wasn't finished with his rampage, as it turned its attention towards a second random zombie within the group even as its first victim's body sank to its knees and then laid flat on its stomach. The RPD agent's faithful follower swiped at the second zombie which was closest to it, sending the claws from its left hand through the smaller creature's stomach. The result was that the second zombie was cut in half as its torso separated from its legs in a burst of gore. While its legs crumbled, the hunter hissed while charging towards a third foe, ignoring the fact that the second zombie's torso was still crawling towards the spot where Wesker stood.

The RPD captain, in his turn, found himself to be truly surprised as he had watched his once-docile minion become enraged with fury within an instant. Being struck by shards of glass hadn't affected the hunter in any way, but here it was attacking the zombies like its very life was at stake. Of course, the hunter's life wasn't threatened by the approach of any number of zombies, not when it could outrun them or even leap over them without any difficulty. So Wesker shook his head as he realized why this extremely powerful beast had become infuriated, and that was because the Alpha STARS member's own life had been in danger. But before the human could spend more time wondering about the continually perplexing turn of events, he had to pay attention to the short-term situation he was in, which was that the hunter was still engaged in mortal combat with seven remaining zombies. As that occurred, the second zombie that the hunter had literally cut in half was still dragging its severed torso towards the man in the shades.

In another place, Wesker might've admired the zombie's persistence, but right now, he had neither the time nor the patience, so he took a pair of steps in the direction of the hunter's second victim and, upon reaching it, swiftly crushed its head underneath his combat boot. He didn't bother wiping the grime off his shoes as he turned his attention back to the struggle between his hunter and the seven remaining creatures. It was good that the zombies didn't have the sense to rally against this new threat, as six of them were still staggering towards him while the green behemoth sent its right claws through the face of its third adversary. That particular zombie omitted a choking groan as the claws protruded out of the back of its skull before its attacker smoothly withdrew its right arm and its victim fell towards the floor with a large hole in its head.

With the hunter leaping away from the third carcass, Wesker opted to not pull the trigger from his position, lest his faithful follower should accidentally run into the line of fire. It didn't seem worth the risk of losing such a valuable ally, especially after the way he had lost officer Frost while the younger man had been surrounded by giant dogs. So the RPD officer hastily marched towards the legion of the advancing undead and pressed the muzzle of his Desert Eagle in between the eyes of the first zombie he reached, making sure to keep the weapon tilted at a particular angle. Pulling the trigger, he fired a 50-caliber round that went through that monster's head before striking a nearby zombie in the face. The fourth and fifth zombies in that group almost sank towards the floor simultaneously, the former lacking its entire head above the mouth and the latter with a bullet lodged inside its cranium.

As that occurred, he afforded himself a glance in the direction of his ally, just in time to see that creature use its large right arm to lash out at the sixth zombie's ankles, which sent the targeted zombie falling flat on its back against the hard floor. Before it could attempt to get back up to its feet, the zombie first saw and then felt the hunter's left claws barrelling down into its face. It was dead even before its antagonist pulled that left hand out of its face.

Leaving that sixth corpse behind, the hunter next turned its attention to the last three fiends who were still converging towards the human. It rushed in the direction of the group and raised its blooded right arm in a horizontal strike that sent its claws through the necks of the two zombies who were closest to it, concurrently decapitating them both.

Feeling impressed at the spectacle where eight usually-superhuman monsters were destroyed within a few seconds, captain Wesker suddenly felt relaxed enough to holster his weapon, the better to conserve his ammunition. Instead, he reached forth and gripped the head of the last standing zombie with both hands. The arms that he had developed through years of physical training made it easy for him to snap the creature's neck before it also sank on its knees first and then flat on its stomach, joining the bodies of its eight fellow monsters.

With the macabre scene covering the floor of the hallway amid pieces of glass, the RPD officer could finally take a long look at its current partner. The hunter only stared back at him while calmly standing still amid the surrounding corpses, the only difference in its demeanour being that it was now breathing slightly heavier than before, but its serenity was still in contrast to Wesker's more agitated composure. Even though the STARS member was far from panicked, he still needed several seconds to return to his normally calm disposition, but he could already feel his heart-rate slowing down from the rapid pace from a few moments ago.

"I hope you realize how much more enjoyable an experience your presence makes this, my friend", he gave a wry smile as he withdrew his Desert Eagle and waited for the hunter to approach him before turning away from the remains on the floor and leaving the hallway together.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Captain Wesker quickly and carefully made his way down a familiar hallway, not needing long to remember that it was the same spot where he had seen Shakahnna Warren's apparition for the first time earlier in the night. Being sure to keep himself and his new companion as quiet as possible, the RPD official silently wondered about the odds of seeing the redhead here again. Not that he had any evidence to suggest that this event might transpire for the second time simply because he was in the same location that it took place earlier, but a small part of him still wished for a lucky break. And if Miss Warren could communicate further with him in regards to her situation before vanishing, he'd consider himself to be luckier still. The armed policeman frowned, not for the first time that evening, realizing that he was thinking about the younger woman and that his desire to save her from her fate was more intense since he was still dealing with his failure to save officer Frost. Although, realistically, he could rationalize that there was nothing more he could've done for the younger man, he knew that his experience at the RPD had left him in a situation where he'd been exposed to human contact and even made a few friends. He had been looking at the prospect of breaking away from his two decade-long relationship with Umbrella Inc, especially now that he was learning more of his employer's true nature with every hour that passed in this hotbed. But would these huge decisions be as meaningful without the presence of the people that he had done them for? Almost as if reading his mind and wishing to bring him out of his reverie, Wesker heard a moan while simultaneously feeling the light impact of the hunter's head brushing against his shoulder, so he glanced in his companion's direction, seeing that the green-skinned creature was still casually walking by his side.

"I _do_ believe you have a point", the captain thought out loud while returning his attention to the spot in front of him, imposing his own thoughts onto the less self aware creature. "I should not be thinking of such long-term issues at this moment, not when there are so many short-term problems to be dealt with first".

Nonhuman movement spotted just over a dozen steps ahead of them both, prompting him to give it his full attention. Wesker stood still and slightly tightened the right grip on his Desert Eagle as the six zombies noticed him in turn. Of the group that consisted of the half dozen creatures, three of them had been busy feasting on the remains of a large dog. It was impossible to tell whether their meal had been a regular dog or a cerberus, as they were busy stripping it down to the bone, but at the sight of live prey, all the zombies twisted their head so that their chin almost touched their shoulder and cast their cold gaze upon him. The RPD captain's own eyes locked with theirs for a long enough time for him to recognize their red faces and the long claws they carried on each hand, and he quickly knew that he was being confronted with V-Act's. He already acknowledged that these monsters wouldn't be as easy to get rid of as their slower-moving counterparts, so his eyes narrowed behind the sunglasses as he pointed the barrel of the weapon towards the face of the nearest creature.

As expected, all six creatures ran straight for him with the speed of a sprinter while holding their arms at a 45 degree angle towards the floor. The police officer held his breath and opened fire with his right hand while also pointing to a specific zombie with his left finger. In response to his nonverbal command, the hunter screeched and leapt towards the V-Act that its human companion had indicated, swiftly landing behind the running zombie after swiping at the smaller creature's neck with gargantuan talons. The first monster that the officer had aimed against lost its head as its cranium exploded in a shower of bone, blood and brains, while the second zombie who had been attacked by the hunter staggered forward for a few steps as its severed head rolled on the floor behind it. While it also collapsed, Wesker paid no attention to the first two defeated adversaries as he stood his ground when the third and fourth upright beasts were charging in his direction. He quickly pointed his left index finger at the fifth zombie, instructing his partner to concentrate on that particular target, while he himself fired two shots into the third and fourth monsters who were barrelling towards him with a blank determination in their eyes. A flathead round found its mark in the torsos of those two creatures, blowing a nearly circular, 10-inch wide hole in each chest. The fourth zombie collapsed on its knees and then flat on its stomach as a result of the blow, but its companion persevered and continued running towards the human target even while Wesker could literally see through him.

Once the third beast reached the captain's position, the man in the shades temporarily pointed his weapon towards the ceiling as he simultaneously balanced his body on his left foot, delivering a right side kick into his foe's midsection. The result was that the bottom of his right combat boot slammed into the third zombie's stomach and cleaved the monster into two pieces as its upper body was kicked off its legs and landed several feet away from where its two legs collapsed in their own turn.

Levelling the Desert Eagle back at an arm's length in front of his face, Wesker spotted the hunter as the green juggernaut had already impaled the fifth zombie with its right claws before lifting that writhing opponent several inches off the floor. The human's ally then screeched as it raised its left arm and swiped with it, those other claws easily going through the zombie's neck while it was vertically held in mid-air and putting an end to its moaning as its decapitated head bounced off the floor. Seeing the result, the hunter quickly pulled its right arm back, withdrawing those claws out of the stomach of the decapitated zombie and letting the corpse fall down near its removed head.

So the RPD captain found it easy to simply concentrate on the sixth and final surviving V-act monster that was bolting in his direction in a speed that could've been threatening to anyone else, but left the RPD official with plenty of time to take aim with his high-powered firearm for one last time. With the monster's rush having slowed down in his eyes, Wesker gritted his teeth together while he was about to press the trigger, ready to send flathead round into the creature's face, when he heard himself gasping in surprise as a green body suddenly appeared between himself and his target. The human's eyes widened from behind the sunglasses as he exercised all the control he possessed over his hands so as to not pull the trigger because the hunter had leapt in front of him, and as a result in front of the barrel of the Desert Eagle, in its effort to destroy the only remaining crimson head monster there. Wesker didn't allow himself a verbal reaction as he quickly bent his elbow and pointed the weapon towards the ceiling, which was all the time he was allowed before his friendly juggernaut delivered what appeared to be close-fisted left blow into its opponent's face, sending five claws into the zombie's eyes and cheeks before eviscerating the smaller creature's brain. Thus, the sixth zombie on the scene crumbled, its lifeless body never to rise again, even after the effects of Umbrella's virus.

It was only then that the hunter withdrew its left arm, letting drops of blood and bits of gore to casually slip off those claws and onto the surface of the floor by its feet, and turned around to face Wesker, purring the entire time and seeming to wait for its master's reaction. Did it appear disappointed when the captain's dark shades and clenched teeth viewed it in a critical fashion? The former Umbrella employee couldn't tell for sure. It's not like he ever studied these monsters closely, his only past interaction with them being when one of them caused trouble and he was called in to incapacitate it as swiftly as possible, which usually meant using some form of deadly force. The irony was in having one of these beasts follow him like a devoted pet, to the point where it was willing to follow his directions in battle, thus proving that it possessed more intelligence than he gave it credit for in the past. But even the presence of such a powerful ally didn't relax the police officer as much as having it intrigue him since the hunter's cooperation didn't prove that any of his colleagues from either teams were still alive, after all. And when it was said and done, and six deadly V-act zombies were lying on the floor in different states of disembowelment, all captain Wesker could think of to do while replacing the Desert Eagle safety mechanism was to pass his left hand through his blonde hair. He could always take the time to reload his weapon after he checked that his hair was in good condition.

"The conclusion was _most_ unwise", he finally decided to lecture his follower, "Although, otherwise, your performance is impeccable. But I suspect that may have a high correlation with the fact that it's what you were created to do".

Either the creature understood what he meant, or at least inferred that he was mostly satisfied from the tone of voice used, as the volume of its purring increased by a degree.

"It'd be wholly more sensible if, in future circumstances, you did not place yourself in my sights when I have control of the situation", he continued, wanting to make sure it understood the one mistake it made while he replaced the bullets that had been spent, "Doing so could have devastating consequences on _both_ our well-beings".

The shorter but bulkier vertebrate didn't have a change in its expression, thus prompting its human leader to wonder if it understood its warning as well as it had previously comprehended his desire to guide it during a fight with the mansion's inhabitants.

"And I expect, from now on, that you will _follow_ my lead as opposed to walking by my side", he added as he turned away from the macabre scene of a half-eaten dog and six decimated zombies and continued making his way further down the corridor, "It's simply a matter of safety. For the most part yours, but also mine, since I would prefer to not be too late next time and risk punching a hole in your back even as you rush to face my enemies on my behalf".

Surprisingly, the green-skinned creature did as it was asked, and only followed him from three steps behind, constantly being careful to not walk too fast in its effort to avoid overtaking the human's pace. It was enough to bring a small smile on Wesker's lips, even if it only lasted an instant, as the pair made their way to the end of hallways and the wooden door that waited for them there.

"Although ludicrous, I don't suppose you could tell me how many other benevolent creatures such as you are roaming in this mansion?", the RPD captain thought out loud as he was a dozen steps from the door and walking closer to it, the Desert Eagle pointing towards the floor in a relaxed right arm, "It would be pleasing to hear that agent Redfield came across one like you after he and I separated. Then again, I would like to think that _everyone_ in Alpha and Bra...".

The officer's words were cut short as he saw and then heard the door being pushed open towards him by someone from the other side. He stopped walking towards it, and as a result instigated for his follower to do the same, while raising the handgun at an arm's length in front of his face, its barrel pointed towards whoever or whatever may have been on the other side of the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Agent Chambers felt the buzzing of the radio within her uniform rather than having heard it. Eager to see if someone she knew was trying to contact her, the youngest member of either STARS team enthusiastically reached for and then pulled out the communications device. Keeping the firearm in her left hand and the radio in her right, she constantly spun around on the spot where she stood without realizing it, subconsciously keeping a visual check on her entire surroundings while also paying attention to the mechanical contraption at the same time.

"Chris? _Chris_?", she blurted into the radio, not caring that she hadn't been able to communicate through it before.

Her only response was static.

"Is someone there? This is Becc... I mean, agent Chambers, STARS Bravo team", she continued talking into it at a louder than usual voice, wary of any noise or movements from nearby that responded to her voice, "Can anyone hear me?".

"…monster! Out in the woods, near the cabin!...", a male voice replied through almost regular interruptions of static.

"Who _is_ this? This is Rebecca Chambers! Can you hear me?", the suspicion that this was yet another one-sided conversation crept into her mind, but she hoped against all past experience that this time may be different.

"… can't be killed. Bullets have no effect!...", the man's voice continued through more static, "If any STARS memb… zzzzzzzz… hearing this, please stay away from the cabin out in… zzzzzz… woods. Monster _cannot _be stopped by bullets or oth… zzzzz… wise…".

That was the last thing Chambers heard before the radio went completely dead in her hand.

"Oh, dear…", the teenaged woman sighed to herself as she placed the radio back within her uniform, feeling shaky even at the mere thought of a creature who was within this place and who could not be taken down with firepower.

This mansion and its inhuman inhabitants were already scary enough without having something here that could walk through the bullets that were fired at it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Bravo medic didn't need long to realize that she preferred some aspects of being in this mansion over others. For instance, she would've liked to deal with as many strange, and seemingly out of place, puzzles as the building's architects and inhabitants wanted her to endure, but even a year's worth of such conundrums seemed better than 24 hours spent dealing with nightmare creatures. So far, she had experienced more monsters than she could count while accompanied by Billy Cohen, followed by almost as many undead enemies while alone, and then lastly with Chris Redfield's partnership. Or maybe she should describe the encounters she had while with Redfield to be done in the company of a friend rather than a partner, she thought to herself, the nice thought serving as a pleasant diversion, however temporary it was.

But regardless, it was after having to bid farewell to Cohen and being separated from Redfield that she had come across a single puzzle which challenged her intellectually for a change. That was a pleasant difference, as opposed to the other challenges which only tested her abilities to fire a weapon accurately or to run as fast as her legs could manage. And since that one mental trial, the young woman was back to facing either lone beasts or, worse yet, groups of them.

The least experienced member of STARS had to admit that the puzzle was an interesting one, involving what initially appeared to be a four-direction street sign that she came upon once she left the shed. But in reality, it had turned out to be a post with four cryptic messages written upon it, those being that the Valley of Destruction pointed north, the Cave of Hatred pointed south, the Summit of Madness pointed east and that the Path of Revenge pointed west. Initially, Chambers had dismissed it as some meaningless joke, despite agent Redfield having warned her that everything here was done on purpose. But after continuing down towards the bottom of the hill, past one blue and one red weathervanes, she had stumbled upon a gate that was locked, and she couldn't find a keyhole within the metal barrier. She had considered the possibility of climbing it, and while casually looking around, gasped at seeing two stone podiums that were the same height as her waistline, and on top of each square pedestal was a 3-headed statue of a giant dog. It was only after the medic recognized them as representations of Cerberus, the keeper of hell in mythology, and took a closer look at each monument that she noticed the rubies and saphires that made up all twelve eyes that were within the two figures. Oddly enough, the dog on the left had only blue eyes while the one on her right had six red ones, which reminded the 18-year old of the fact that the eye colours matched the weathervanes she had passed.

Rebecca Chambers remembered giggling excitedly earlier as she had jumped several inches into the air upon recognizing her discovery of that puzzle solution, which was a reaction she promised would be her own secret upon the reunion with the other STARS members. The inscription on each podium was read aloud, stating that 'the gates will open when the guard dog's desires are fulfilled' and 'the last gasps of destruction', which led to her jogging back up the hill before turning the blue weathervane towards the north and the red one towards the west. That action had led to the gate being opened, which prompted Chambers to wish that the mansion she was navigating through had more puzzles and less monsters, for the second time in as many minutes, especially now that she was back within one of the mansion's many outside corridors. The high walls, dark surroundings and vegetation that draped over the edge of the walls did nothing to make her feel safer, as expected.

After that scenario, she had come across a wooded area, and then spotted a cabin off in the distance. Ordinarily, she would've decided to inspect that place, but the remembrance of the strange radio announcement that had warned of an allegedly unstoppable monster that lived near that spooky cabin had ultimately convinced her to stay away from it. Not that the young woman trusted the word of a total stranger, but she preferred to be cautious and spend time looking over areas of the mansion that didn't have such stigma attached to them, which brought her here.

The teenager found herself back in the unenviable position of aiming her standard STARS issue Beretta with her right hand towards the face of a slobbering zombie who staggered in her direction, cringing her face before she pulled the trigger. A bullet smacked into the monster's cheek, forcing its upper body back before it attempted to continue its trek towards her. Annoyed at her opponent's omnipotence, Chambers had to fire two more times before the zombie sank to the floor and stayed there, which finally allowed her to relax her right arm by her side while her face temporarily drooped and she breathed heavily.

The Bravo officer then resumed her hike towards the closed door that waited several yards after the fiend's remains, simultaneously carrying her usual weapon as well as a Magnum revolver in her left hand, which was a discovery she had made after passing through the gate and crossing a graveyard. But while having such a more powerful handgun could've come in handy, the teenager still felt too anxious to use it against anything that tried to attack or eat her due to her fear of the weapon's recoil and her lack of experience in ever handling a Magnum before. Ironic how her formal heavy artillery and weapons training was scheduled for next month, she sighed sadly to herself, when it would've come in handy just now. Thus, despite the presence of a much better firearm, the medic still had to rely on the 9mm weapon to see her through confrontations and only keep the Magnum in a left grip as a last resort in case she ever came across a creature as massive as the Great White shark from earlier tonight.

Then again, she shouldn't complain, she thought to herself, as the Beretta pistol kept proving to be an adequate device when she needed it to repel one undead humanoid after another. So agent Chambers was busy crossing the distance between her and the downed zombie, getting nearer to the closed door, when she gasped at seeing that the creature she had shot three times wasn't as immobile as she'd like it to be. Instead, the beast moaned pitifully as it used its arms to crawl towards her, prompting her to feel uneasy as she stood in place and anxiously waited for it to come within an arm's reach of her ankle. But once there, the zombie tried to grip her left boot, only to be interrupted by two quick gunshots to the back of its head, which blew skull and brain matter out of its face and onto the floor beneath it.

The young woman did her best to not look at the mass of red skin and bones near her feet as she hurried past it and made her way towards the closed door, wishing more than anything to be able to see a friendly face behind it. Once standing in front of the wooden obstacle, and always trying to remember to follow procedure, she stood next to the doorway and holstered the Magnum so as to free her left hand for use on the doorknob. Agent Chambers tested the knob, finding it unlocked and paying close attention to any sounds that may have been heard from the other side of the door as she pushed it open and peeked through the widening gap.

She heard herself gasping yet again when she came face to face with the barrel of a Desert Eagle as it was being aimed at her head from approximately eight yards away. In a reflexive gesture that she hoped would not be found out by any of her colleagues, or anyone in fact, the Bravo agent squeaked as she bent her elbows and pointed both forearms towards the ceiling, only then remembering that she carried a Beretta in her right hand.

Fortunately for her, the person behind the Desert Eagle was not someone who worked here, as he summarily lowered his own weapon and calmly looked into her eyes from behind a pair of sunglasses. Oddly enough, having him lower the firearm didn't relax Chambers one bit, as she recognized his STARS uniform, even if the massive, blonde-haired man who was wearing it was a stranger to her. In fact, this man made her feel even more anxious than she was before, as his mere size seemed to literally be twice her own. While Redfield was somewhat bigger than her and could have been physically intimidating at some times, especially when he was angry, this new man gave off no signs of aggression but was still much more physically imposing than her friend.

"Raccoon City Police Department, STARS Bravo team, Rebecca Chambers, field medic, badge number 233346", he addressed her in a manner that was obviously not a question, but a statement.

Chambers' only reaction was to peer her head around in an effort to visually survey him so as to see if his uniform had a name or rank attached to it. It was only then that she remembered to lower her hands, all the time noticing that the man in the shades was regarding her in a manner that nonverbally asked what she was doing.

"Um, yes, that is... I mean, I am... Yes", she confirmed her identity by nodding her head, taking a deep breath, "Yes sir, I _am_ Rebecca Chambers, but I don't recognize _you_".

"Captain Albert Wesker, leader of Alpha team", the taller man kept the smile off his face for the sake of professionalism, as he felt an influx of relief at having found someone alive and well, "This meeting has been a long time coming, agent Chambers".

"Chris is in Alpha team!", she blurted out, a smile widening on her face before she realized that such an enthusiastic reply may not be the type of answer he expected from her.

Unknown to her, though, Wesker didn't mind her exclamation, but still worried that the young woman was just that - someone who was too inexperienced for this job.

"You've met agent Redfield, I see", the RPD captain added, feeling that this was his first opportunity to have some of his many questions answered, "Do you know his current location? At your last meeting, was he well?".

"Uh, actually, sir, no, I _don't_ know where Chris is", the teenager replied while neither individual made a move towards the other, "But I last saw him about an hour ago, and he _was_ fine. I've been looking for him since then".

"That's good news. And I suspect we both have much to inform each other, officer Chambers", Wesker continued as he began walking towards her, his eyes always locked with hers, "But under what circumstances did you part ways with Redfield, and where?".

The young woman opened her mouth, ready to answer whatever questions this man, who in her opinion was scary-looking, was asking, especially if it meant that he would help her search for agent Redfield. Besides, someone who appeared this fearsome and confident could be a real asset when travelling by her side, especially considering the fact that he didn't seem all that disturbed by the events he had experienced thus far, and she just didn't feel that confident on her own. And even if this older man did look terrifying, there was no question that he was still what Chambers was sure Redfield would label as one of the 'good guys'.

But while her mouth was open, she wondered why no words were coming out of it, and quickly realized that her silence must have something to do with the presence of the green-skinned monster who was approximately the same height as her, but three times wider than her at the shoulders. The beast screeched an ear-piercing growl as it ran past captain Wesker's left side, completely ignoring the older man while it held its two clawed and bloodied hands in a gesture which left no need to guess that it intended to eviscerate her. From the speed of its forward rush, it would've covered the eight yards between itself and her in less than two seconds.

For the second time tonight, agent Chambers wished she had listened to the advice given by her friends and family when they had suggested she does not apply to the police department since she could've done much more with her life. But the thought didn't stay with her long as she heard herself screaming while she instinctively backed out of the open doorway. True to her inexperience, she did so without levelling the Beretta that was the only obstacle between herself and the unappealing position of being pinned to the ground by a monster that outweighed her by hundreds of pounds, before the evisceration took place, of course.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Captain Wesker's eyes widened by a fraction of an inch from behind the shades, which was the only sign of surprise he'd allow himself to show as he witnessed his suddenly untamed follower going for the youngest member of both STARS teams. Fortunately for him, and even more so for Chambers, he saw the entire interaction occurring in slow motion even though the hunter was dashing past him as quickly as its legs could carry it. Finally, the RPD captain was given a fresh reminder of how vicious these creatures could be, especially when evidenced by the drool that dripped out of its open mouth in anticipation of the kill. He had glimpsed these animals' rampage more often than he cared to count in the past, and had put each and every monster down via his Desert Eagle, so the option to repeat that action was open to him, if he only opted to follow it.

But there were other options for the time being, so the former Umbrella operative kept the handgun pointed towards the floor in a right grip while he stretched his left arm parallel to the floor, intercepting the monster's charge past him. Luckily, the beast stopped in its tracks, deciding to not try to get past the obstacle that was raised in front of its face. That, in turn meant that Wesker's Desert Eagle could remain aimed by his feet instead of him having to resort to it, since the RPD captain believed that even he couldn't restrain a healthy hunter by using physical might alone. So the blonde man stepped in the medic's general direction while also turning around at the same time, thus bringing himself face to face with the creature who had been docile so far, but was now growling as its entire body shook from the tension created because of its self-restraint due to having to stand in place. Wesker viewed it with the curiosity that continually plagued his mind, as he concluded that this beast was really no different than the ones he had to fight with in the past, and every second that it stood in place and refrained from attacking agent Chambers was in direct contradiction to its programming.

Of course, the question still remained with regards to why it was still refusing to disobey his orders, even when it obviously wanted to follow its natural instinct to kill the young woman. But the one-time Umbrella spy couldn't worry about that question just yet as he turned his head as far around as possible to catch a glimpse of the medic who had taken half a dozen steps away from the open door by that time. Not surprisingly, the Bravo officer was trying to control her trembling while she kept both hands on the handle of the Beretta, which shook as it was pointed in his direction, though the captain suspected it was meant for the hunter and not for himself, as he was still standing between the scared human and the creature.

"Are you harmed, agent Chambers?", the older man questioned while turning his attention back to the green behemoth.

The teenager nodded several times before speaking up.

"I'm OK... I'm OK... Really, all OK...", she repeated more to herself than to him.

"I must apologize about its behaviour", the Alpha captain followed through while still locking eyes with the shorter monster, taking a note that its loud panting hadn't slowed down yet along with its dilated pupils, "It's been acting with _much_ more decorum than it is currently exhibiting ".

"That thing is _yours_?!", the outrage only lasted an instant in Chambers' voice before dissipating and her regular tone was used again with a slight twinge of embarrassment, "I mean, sir!".

"That very well depends on your definition of the word, miss Chambers", another quick glance behind him before returning his attention on the creature ahead, whose aggressive attitude proved that it was fighting a losing battle when it came to controlling its predisposition to end the teenaged woman's life.

As expected, the Bravo agent hadn't stepped closer to the duo, and hadn't lowered her weapon either, which she might as well, considering Wesker was no closer to solving the puzzle of his unexpected ally.

"I happened upon it earlier this evening, it proved to be quite gentle towards me", he summarized the events of the last fifteen minutes to the lady who was behind him, "It has even assisted me in dealing with two groups of its kin. But I simply _cannot_ comprehend or explain what its current motivations are, behind either its previous amenability or its current aggression".

"But sir, it's a monster! Can they really be domesticated?", the understandable pessimism was obvious in her voice as well as her words, "I only know what I read so far in the mansion, but they're just not meant to be anything other than killers".

Wesker had to admit to himself that the medic spoke the truth. Not that he could say so out loud, but she was right that creatures which were experimented on were always savage and combative by the time they were subjected to the full effect of the virus. Granted he had never fought with this specific phenotype of hunter before, but he couldn't have imagined their demeanour to be any different, at least not before tonight. And here was one specimen that treated him like its master while acting as its normal self against other humans. Maybe a new development had been achieved where these new styles of hunters didn't attack Umbrella employees only, he reasoned to himself again, but if so, then he hadn't been informed of their existence. But while on that chain of thought, he could've hardly been surprised that Umbrella had withheld information from him, seeing as to how human experiments were done behind his back.

"Miss Chambers, would you kindly assist me and close the door in front of you for a moment?", he felt his grip tightening on the handle of the Desert Eagle, the hunter's hostility not having subsided at all, making him anxious due to its possibility of attacking, perhaps even deciding to get past him to gets its claws into the medic.

"I... Are you sure you'll be safe, captain, sir?".

"I expect no harm to befall me", he assured, more eager to see the result of an experiment he wanted to carry, the more inquisitive side of his nature taking hold.

"Uh, OK. But, well, if maybe things don't work… I, well. You should call, OK?", the youngster stated before she did as asked and closed the door, thus leaving Wesker alone with the hunter on the other side of it.

Instantly, the green beast calmed down to its previous state of complacency, no longer drooling, growling or panting for air as it was being restrained because of the captain's orders. But the human at the scene had a bad feeling that the suspicion he previously had about this monster was about to be confirmed. He still didn't know why the beast preferred his company and attacked his colleague, and regardless of its thought patterns, the hunter's reaction was becoming all too predictable. Still, though, the RPD captain had to be sure, especially considering what dire consequences his suspicions could carry if they turned out to be true.

"Miss Chambers, if you could please re-enter the hall?", he addressed the younger woman.

The Bravo agent opened the door by a few inches only, anxiously peeking half her face through the opening, before she saw and heard the animal's reaction at spotting her as it had been waiting for her to appear. The two-legged monster tried to leap in her direction with an angry scream, only to be restrained by Wesker's horizontal arm as it was raised in front of its torso, this time more forcefully than before. In a response that the STARS captain suspected she would berate herself for later on, Chambers squealed and slammed the door shut, not even seeing her superior as he had incapacitated the beast's attack.

"I don't like this, sir!", she finally exclaimed, the closed door muffling her tone.

"_You _think this is unfortunate?", the older man shot back without noticing the tenseness in his voice, and thus not wondering how the medic would feel about his suddenly reproachable manner.

It took him only an instant to compose himself, nonverbally thinking that he wasn't upset at the STARS subordinate, but instead was very disappointed at the fact that this ally of his turned out to be just that - an ally of his only. Captain Wesker despised that his hope of introducing the green-skinned beast to the rest of the STARS teams, and as a result, having the hunter provide them with support the same way it did with him, just wasn't going to happen. Using the monster as a creature who was on their side was thus no longer an accessible option.

The idea that he may lock the creature into a room and return after the mission was over came and went. Because as much as Wesker wished to study this monster, since he had never met a hunter who was this docile before, even if only to him, he knew that he ultimately couldn't in good conscience walk away from a room that would become a deathtrap for anyone from STARS who was misfortunate enough to open the door to it. There were still many members of Alpha and Bravo teams missing, after all, and if one of them were to walk into that room by accident, the hunter could kill them in an instant.

"If you'll excuse me, Miss Chambers, I have something to take care of", he uttered in a sombre fashion, "If you'll be so kind as to stay here, I will return to you shortly".

With those words, the RPD captain led the now-friendly hunter away, not looking forward to the task of using its trust in him to kill it for the sake of everyone else. The only factor he could control in this situation was how painlessly he delivered the fatal blow, and that small amount of discretion on his part wasn't much of a consolation. He just hoped that a single flathead round into the creature's brain would destroy it before it felt any pain.

Between the purrs that the beast was emitting as it gladly followed him down the corridor and into the first closed room that he could find to carry out this most unpleasant endeavour, the only other sound the STARS captain heard was agent Chambers calling out to him from behind the closed door.

"Um... Sir? Where're you going?", a break as the medic didn't hear him answering, "Sir, what's going on?... Sir?".

Wesker opted to ignore the younger woman, not being in the mood to explain his plan or why it bothered him so much. There'd be plenty of time to do that later on, after the deed was done, assuming she still wanted to know.


	32. Chapter 24 Separation Anxiety

"So, found any priests yet?", agent Valentine thought out loud while still limping down the hallway, trying not to squint at the unsightly yellow wallpaper that covered ever inch of surface over the level of her waistline.

"Say what?", agent Redfield turned his head towards her while maintaining the slower than normal pace he was using to progress down the same corridor, always making sure he never walked faster than his partner.

Both agents had their larger weaponry strapped to their back, preferring to keep a handheld Beretta, each of whichwas held in a right grip and at a casual position as they strolled in a manner that wouldn't have been relaxed if they had been in another situation.

"Priests, Chris", the female machine expert explained, "Like those guys who are using their voodoo magic or whatever they call it to _do _this stuff?".

"Huh? Magic?", the marksman clarified, "Uh, no, no, Jill. There's no magic, or what have you, here at all. The whole thing is a result of some virus that was leaked throughout here. That's what led to the damn monsters that were killing people in the city, and the ones who murdered Joseph right in front of us".

"What?! How do you know _this_?", the young woman maintained her eye contact with him as they moved further, ignoring the first 3-foot high cabinet that they passed to their right while two large windows were to their left.

"Becca told me", he answered with more enthusiasm than he wanted, feeling some amount of pride in Chambers' abilities since someone as young as her had been the one to explain the source of the danger, as well as the best way to combat it, "That'd be Becca Chambers from Bravo team".

"Uh, my eyes are up _here_, Chris", Valentine smirked at the realization that her colleague wasn't exactly returning her stare as his gaze was about twelve inches lower than her face.

"Yeah, yeah, I know that", the young man corrected his posture, quickly locking eyes with her as a mixture of a smile and embarrassment crossed his facial expression, "I was just checking you out to... you know... make sure you didn't have any injuries anywhere on you after we split up. That's all".

"Uh huh", Valentine widened her grin ever so slightly, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief.

"I swear!", his own smile broadened in response, "But seriously, Becca says that a virus caused all this, see? And as scary as it sounds, Jill, apparently a headshot that doesn't take one of these freaks' heads off may not kill them. Some of the flora and fauna that are shot _can _come back to hit you, worse than before".

"Say what, Chris?", his confused partner interrupted.

"Sorry. Flora and fauna, means plant and animal, in a specific environment", he eagerly explained while passing a second cabinet and returning his attention to the area ahead of them both, "And there _are _some plants in this place that are coming after our heads too, Jill. But good news is that Becca was working on a poison to beat'em. But bad news is that I ended up _losing _her and now I don't know where she is".

Redfield's expression suddenly saddened at the last statement he made, prompting Valentine to wish to distract him in an effort to relax the young man.

"You seem to like this girl a lot, Chris", she interjected, hoping she wasn't saying something inappropriate, "Is she prettier than me?".

"What?! No, of course not! I don't like her the way I...", he turned his face back in her direction just in time to see her showing him a seductive smile that indicated it wasn't a serious question.

She was glad that her ploy worked, as he did seem less sad, at least.

"And to answer your question - no, she's not", Redfield followed through before letting his attention wander a short distance away from the conversation.

"What?", Valentine turned her gaze, following his line of sight, before coming to a halt on the third cabinet they had passed.

There, she spotted agent Redfield reaching for the cabinet surface with his free hand, and then withdrawing what appeared to be a perfectly usable clip for the two Beretta handguns that they shared between them.

"Yeah, it's a 9mm one and it's full too", the young man happily answered her queries before she even asked it, "But hey, I'm not...".

."Chris, do you not think that this is a bit odd?", she interrupted his jovial comment with a look of concern that told him that he shouldn't be accepting what seemed to be a gift at face value.

The marksman only looked back at her questioningly.

"Just before Richard and I ran into that living roller coaster of a snake, there was a box of shotgun shells right outside its fucking nest", she explained, fresh unease in her voice, "Perfectly usable, just like that clip you're holding, and like your flamethrower and my shotgun. They were just sitting there waiting to be used. Doesn't that feel odd to you at all? That you found a flamethrower and I found a shotgun? I mean, you _could _argue that they belonged to whoever worked here, but their locations were so obscure. What kind of defense system is it that drops a ceiling on your head when you try to implement it?".

"To be honest, it's not something I'm concentrating on", Redfield stated once she was finished making her case, tucking the extra Beretta clip within his uniform, a task he found to be more difficult than expected because of the large amount of ammunition that was already there, "Becca felt it was strange too, but this kind of weirdness I can definitely live with. Someone wants to leave us weapons, great! Keep up the good work".

"Yeah, I get that, Chris. But _why_ would someone leave us all these, Chris?", the female STARS agent limped forward, momentarily walking past her partner while he stood in place, constantly struggling with the pockets of his uniform till he found a suitable place for the new clip that was to be added to his arsenal.

Valentine stopped moving when she reached the right turn that led to a second hallway which intersected the first one at a 90 degree angle. From there, she saw three more waist-high cabinets on the path to her right, and two more large windows on the wall to her left, and watched as her fellow officer finally secured the new clip within his vest and hurried to join her. Agent Valentine smiled yet again at seeing Redfield's friendly and eager demeanour, thinking to herself that she had been smiling a lot since joining up with him.

From the ten feet of space that separated them, it was the last sight she saw before an explosion of glass made her scream.

The rectangular-shaped window that had previously been to their left burst inward with a shower of glass, tiny bits of sharp pieces digging into her face and arms as two huge, skinless dogs jumped through it, one monster turning its attention on each person there. Valentine heard Redfield screaming in his turn as they both raised a weapon, a tense 2-handed grip from her and a more relaxed 1-handed grip from him, and opened fire. Several shots punctured numerous holes in the creatures' bodies before both fiends collapsed on the floor amid a pool of their own blood, neither one having come to within striking range of their target.

Before any sigh of relief, though, two more dogs leapt through the broken window, gracefully landing on the floor before charging towards her in the stoic determination that she only found in these beasts. The machinist staggered several steps back, noticing that the door at the end of this second hallway was about fifteen yards away, but which suddenly appeared to be much further than that. Fresh pain shot up from her twisted ankle as she gritted her teeth and kept backing away quickly, spreading as much 9mm fire as possible across her two attackers, even as Redfield was pursuing those two animals and opening fire on them in his own right.

Finally, the third and fourth hounds ceased their forward rush, crashing against the floor amid chunks of their own muscle and bone, while the Alpha team machinist felt that her handgun was out of bullets. Ignoring the putrid smell of blood and lead, she tried to keep her hands from shaking as she quickly replaced the old clip with a fresh one, all the while standing about five yards shy of the door at the end of the second corridor. From across this hallway, past the corpses of four infected dogs, she saw that Redfield had run out of ammunition also as the marksman was at the right-hand turn that divided the first hallway from the second one. But instead of simply reloading the empty handgun, the young man tucked it away and chose to withdraw the larger flamethrower, turning it on as a blue tongue of fire appeared at its tip.

"You OK, Chris?", she uttered as she took her first step back in his direction, careful to keep as much of her weight off the injured leg as possible.

The young man seemed to open his mouth to respond, but instead of words, an explosion that was twice as loud as before reverberated through the second corridor, as the result of both other windows bursting simultaneously, a pair of hellhounds jumping through each of them. The four monsters filled the relatively tight space with their howling as they were greeted with bursts of 9mm bullets from one side and a wall of deadly fire from the other. But even as those four creatures were being dealt with, Valentine's eyes widened as seven more such monsters climbed through the broken window ledges, taking advantage of the humans' distraction in their attempt to charge towards their targets. It was around the time she could see the drool dripping out of their open mouths that she realized that she and her partner would be overwhelmed in a matter of seconds if they remained in this place.

"CHRIS! FALL BACK! PLEASE!", was all she had time to scream while she staggered further back, her right hand firing wildly while her left reached behind her, searching for the doorknob and hoping that it'd be unlocked.

Fortunately, the knob twisted at her first effort, not requiring her to turn around to force her way through the doorway. Pushing the door open away from her figure, she caught sight of agent Redfield as the young man was busy burning two creatures at the same time, which was enough to afford him the precious few moments needed to jog backwards and return to the beginning of the first hallway, thus disappearing from her line of vision. Four hounds chased after him, while three others rushed after her, but by that time, she had made her way past the entryway and closed it behind her, hearing two large bodies crashing against the surface of the door. From beyond the relative safety of this closed entrance, though, and past her heavy breathing and the loud beating of her heart, she thought she heard the door to the first hallway slamming shut, which was good news, because it meant that Redfield had evaded his pursuers long enough to close his own door on them.

She wished she could be sure that the sound she heard was exactly that, because she wasn't certain. She just hoped that he was behind a secure door by now, screaming and swearing at their second separation, as she suspected he would do, even as she felt like crying in frustration and anger.

Agent Valentine choked back the tears that were threatening to spill out of her eyes. This wasn't the time to be getting sentimental. That just wasn't her style, anyway.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAagggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", the scream rang out throughout the dark recesses of the manor.

The echo that reverberated for several seconds was evidence of the depth of this maze-like architecture, which wasn't on the agent's mind at this time as the response to the yell was almost autonomic. The officer raced through the hallway, believing and hoping that it closed the distance towards the desired destination, thus bringing the person who had to yell out in fear orpain closer. This particular corridor was dirtier than usual, with the rusty brown paint peeling off the foundation on a regular basis, revealing the darker background, which in turn caused the entire area to be an eyesore.

The decor was not on the agent's mind, though, not when a fellow human being needed help, even if the rotting foundation would've been a feature that caused disgust to be felt by anyone who was passing through the area at any other time. But this particular scenario, on the other hand, had the rarity of causing the runner to completely ignore everything except the goal of reaching the origin of the noise of terror.

It was after twenty seconds of running through corridors, up a flight of stairs, and around more corners than could be remembered, all the while retaining a deathgrip on the handle of a firearm, before reaching a place that forced even the adrenaline-rushed officer to quickly stop. That's because, in front of the panting human was a right-handed corridor that led in one direction, but a second, curved hallway led to the left. In addition to the choice to be made, all the while ignoring the heavy breathing, the STARS member didn't like seeing the flickering lights that sporadically caused the entire area to turn dark red. Even amid a mansion full of monsters and environments that were so ugly that they hurt the eye when one had to look at them for more than an instant, this new background that cast a blood-red glow over the walls, floor and ceiling was especially gruesome.

No matter, the agent soon decided to forget about the chest constrictions, a cold throat as air was gasped for through the mouth, and especially the passageway that looked like it was made from dried, frozen blood, opting instead to dash towards the right direction, convinced that it's where the scream had emanated from. And if it turned out that the guess as to the outcry's origin had been wrong, then the person who needed the agent's help was most likely dead, as it would've taken a lot more time to retrace the steps and try to find the correct path to finding him or her. So for both their sakes, the officer hoped that the guess was a correct one.

Finally, a door pulled open without any of the precaution that should've been remembered and used, as the wooden obstacle was yanked with all the strength that the officer's unarmed hand could muster. On the other side of the entryway, the STARS official came face to face with the desired objective, as there remained no doubt that this was the point where the yell had been heard from.

It was a tiny, but lavishly decorated, room, square shaped, and about fifteen feet long per side, with a large bookshelf adorning one side of it, and a table with retractable drawers resting near it, while an unused desk and chair were pressed up agaisnt the wall on the other side of the chamber. The lamp that rested on the surface of this desk was turned on, fortunately lighting everything within the small quarters, rather than leaving the inside of the room in a state of pitch black darkness. And it was because of that illumination that the agent at the door was able to witness the interaction within that area, which caused a loud gasp to escape the officer's lips.

In the middle of the small room, Alpha member Chris Redfield had his back pressed against the side of the bookcase, an empty flamethrower in his hands, and his 9mm Beretta pistol resting in its holster. The young man had his eyes and mouth wide open in an expression of dread as what appeared to be a hunched, green, humanoid lizard was hissing and salivating just four feet in front of him. The shorter, but wider, monster had both its arms stretched in the human's direction, ten claws ready to eviscerate him if he made any sudden moves, which Redfield understood as he and the stronger creature were staring each other down, neither one moving, but the STARS agent clearly worrying about what would happen once his opponent decided to do away with the stalemate and strike.

Another growl from the beast, this time followed by a short swipe of its right arm, which sent another, shorter scream escaping from Redfield's lips. But the behemoth stopped short of gutting him,even thoughit could easily kill him. So why was it holding back? Was it because it enjoyed tormenting its prey in the same way that a cat would play with a mouse for hours before finally killing it? Or was it because of the presence of the second human who now stood at the doorway that made it hesitate, suddenly wondering which target had priority? Or was it something completely different?

Standing at the doorway and still recovering from the dash towards this place, magnum revolver in hand, agent Rebecca Chambers just didn't care why the monster relented, knowing full well that she needed to take advantage of the opening while she could, even if that meant calming down only at a future point in time. Later on, she'd be able to reason out her actions, but now, she was completely acting without cognition, as it was only through such a defense mechanism that she was able to keep a level head. Holding her breath and ignoring her deafening heartbeat, the young woman gently tossed the magnum into her new friend's direction, trusting his ability to catch and fire the powerful weapon a lot more so than her ability to fire it from where she stood.

To his credit, Redfield reacted with the intuition that she'd expect from a seasoned military and police marksman, letting go of the flamethrower, smoothly taking a hold of the handgun and experiencing an instantaneous facial change, one that shifted from scared to defiant, as his fingers tightened around the handle of the weapon. It was the last sight Chambers got to witness before the marksman pulled the trigger once, sending a single bullet out of the muzzle of the firearm before it ripped through the creature's chest, exiting out of its upper back as it left a 2-inch hole in its path. The greenabomination screeched a nearly ear-piercing howl, ironically mimicking the same fear that agent Redfield had worn on his face just a few seconds ago, as it raised its outstretched arms towards the ceiling and then crashed flat on its stomach, a pool of blood slowly spreading underneath its carcass.

"Chris! Omygod! You OK?", the medic exclaimed first, still too frozen in place as her wide eyes darted between her comrade and the monstrous corpse.

"Hey Becca", the young man did his best to appear casual while leaning with his back to the nearest wall behind him and resting his free hand at the top of his hip, his other hand pointing the magnum towards the floor.

And his pretense of a relaxed posture would've worked, if Chambers hadn't seen him in an utterly terrified state less than a minute ago, and if the amount of stress the marsksman had felt was anything like the one she had experienced, then she couldn't imagine him having such a tight control of his emotions that he could calm down so quickly. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a fleeting thought asked her why Redfield would have such a problem being honest about his emotions. Was it because he disliked or distrusted her to the point where he couldn't be himself around her? Or because he felt the need to always appear to be fearless and in charge so she could take some solace in his leadership, and maybe not feel so scared herself?

By the time the thought left her mind, Chambers decided that the reason was the latter, both because it fit her fellow officer's personality, and because she wanted it to be, too.

"And I'm just fine", Redfield gave her another of his friendly smiles, "Thanks for throwing me that cannon, by the way. Although _all _you did was save me the few seconds it would've taken me to beat that thing to death with my bare hands".

Whatever charm he was trying to afflict her with, Chambers decided it was working, because she felt her heartbeat slowing down and a smile creeping on her face even without her trying.

"Oh, I'm _sure _of that", the medic brushed the air in front of her with her own free hand as she stepped closer to him, leaving the door to the room open behind her, "Just didn't want you to dirty your hands".

"_Very _glad to see you in one piece", Redfield replaced the safety mechanism on the magnum before tucking the weapon into his belt, and then gently squeezed her shoulders with both his hands by the time she neared him, "Was so worried when I came back late to the lab and you weren't about. So whatever else happens, we're NOT separating again".

"Yessss, sir! No arguments here", the Bravo agent enjoyed the sensation of feeling better as more time passed.

A brief period of silence as both officers locked eyes.

"But you're hurt!", she whispered next in a quieter but more urgent tone, casting her attention on the dried blood on his sleeveless upper arm.

"Oh, that! Not a big deal, Becca. It's nothing. You should've seen the _reason _why I got it", the male recounted, "In the basement, there was this shark, and you wouldn't _believe _how big it was. And I say 'was' for a reason".

The smile broadened on his face, Redfield always justifiable proud of his accomplishment.

"Uh, well, you know, I _might _believe it, actually, Chris", Chambers added, "I kinda ran into it when I was in the basement. It almost got me, but I think something distracted it, and I left, and when I came back, all the water was gone".

"You're kidding me! Means we only missed each other by a hair, Becca", the Alpha marksman pointed out as he visually combed his surroundings, feeling safe enough to investigate the room in the hope of spotting anything useful, now that his larger pursuer was dead.

"Well, first things first", his younger colleague withdrew a first aid spray and a dry, clean piece of cloth from within her uniform, "There's a miracle spray here that seems to have been kept secret from the workers in this mansion".

No sooner was she done explaining what the cylinder contained that she pressed the nozzle and sent a short, cold burst of healing powder directly on top of the wound on his arm. Ignoring the flinch that Redfield reacted with, she then applied the cloth around his bicep muscle.

"So any idea what that _thing _is that we blew away? Don't tell me that's what a zombie turns into", the Alpha officer lazily pointed towards the hunter's remains with his thumb, not finding anything he wanted to pay more attention to within the small room.

"No...", Chambers shook her head while pondering the question as she let go of his healing arm, "No, I don't think so, Chris. That's a new animal".

She looked down at its carcass, especially the pool of blood that had stopped spreading underneath its torso.

"I mean, it may have _once _been a person, but even _that _is just speculation", she squatted near it, examining further, "Though I bet I could use this blood to our benefit, Chris".

"How do you figure?", Redfield questioned as he squatted next to her, looking at her face as her attention was concentrated on the gore that rested beneath the dead monster.

"I'm talking about explosives, much like the toxin I used on our Plant 42", she explained as she placed her left index and middle fingers inside the hunter's blood, "I can make them small enough to throw at zombies and dogs, and even at _these _things here, whatever they're called. And I'm thinking that considering how obsessed these creatures are for blood, then using some of this blood here to make those explosives more alluring _should _work, especially if these zombies track down their prey by their sense of smell, as I suspect. The blood can be irresistable to them".

The young woman was so busy thinking about her plans and describing it that she failed to notice her colleague tensing up as Redfield's attention was diverted elsewhere and the young man slowly stood up, making as little noise as possible.

"Becca, listen", the marksman whispered still without looking down at her, "I want you to look up, slowly, and whatever you do, _don't _scream".

Curious and still in a squatted position, agent Chambers looked away from her work, and saw ayellowy green tarantula that was about twice the size of an adult person as the new monster was creeping towards them from the doorway she had used to enter this room a short time ago. Despite Redfield's advice to remain quiet, the medic felt her mouth opening wide before a scream escaped from between her lips.

At this provocation, the spider rushed forward, prompting the young woman to fall backwards from her seated position, crashing on the floor on her back, and only managing to yell further as the monstrosity glided closer, about to get on top of her. Her eyes widened to near circles as she spotted it rearing its head back so that its two inwardly curved fangs were in position to bite down on her torso. Chambers was blindly reaching for her Beretta, not thinking to look down at her holster as she couldn't feel the handle of the weapon, and knowing she was only a moment away from being fatally bitten, when she witnessed Redfield reacting with more of his knowledge about the natural world.

The Alpha team officer rushed to place himself between the 8-legged beast and his panicking partner. Picking up and then lifting the empty flamethrower in a horizontal position, he shoved it underneath the spider's raised fangs, thus ensuring that the creature couldn't lower its head as long as the weapon was lodged in its upraised mouth. The spider tried to push itself forward, and quickly found out that it could not dislodged the flamethrower as the weapon was firmly held in place, even as Chambers used her hands behind her to crawl a few feet away from the scene. The spider then began to retreat, surmising that it could try to free itself from the flamethrower as it did so. But while it stepped backwards, taking the horizontal weapon with it, and constantly finding itself unable to lower its two fangs in the process, Redfield had already withdrawn his 10-inch Bowie knife and then sank the entire body of its blade into the tarantula's soft underside.

The monster was eerily quiet as it made no sound at all while it collapsed in place and died. Leaving his knife buried in the creature's body, Redfield instinctively withdrew the magnum, feeling more secure at the feel of the metal grip in his right hand as he turned around and surveyed his colleague's state.

"What?? Oh god! Chris. _What _did you do?", the younger woman shakily rose to her feet, finally able to withdraw her Beretta pistol and pointing it at the spider's remains, not sure why it wasn't still attacking her now that she was armed and pointing the weapon at its body.

"Put nature documentaries to good use for a change", Redfield exhaled while brushing a layer of sweat off his face with the left forearm, "I never thought that knowing a spider's weak spot would come in handy, _that's _for sure. It's easy to discount this stuff when the critters are small enough to be stepped on. It's when they become bigger than you that the knowledge becomes more valuable than gold".

"Oh, Jeez! So it's dead?", unease still kept the medic's body tense as she refused to lower the weapon, "I'm getting in the habit of being rescued by you".

"Yeah, it is, and this just pays you back for rushing in here when I was about to be relieved of my own head just now", the grin re-appeared on his face, "So, tell me more about those blood-coated bombs you were mentioning".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Captain Wesker placed another bullet into the chamber of his weapon so as to replace the one round that he had used, holding back the urge to sigh due to the feeling of disappointment over the necessity of what he had just done. His mind was still flooded with questions that he neither had answers for, nor had the luxury of time to investigate on his own. Regardless, his eyes wandered over the body that lay down on its stomach on the carpetted floor a few feet in front of him, a clean hole being present in the dead hunter's brain, so as to make its death instantaneous and to cause it as little pain as possible. He shouldn't have wasted time looking over the cadaver, as he knew that none of his nagging questions would've been resolved by investigating the body, and agent Chambers was undoubtedly waiting for him even now. But still, the curious inquiries made their way into his mind, asking where this hunter had come from, and why it was so friendly towards him while it acted like a common hunter towards every other human being.

It was a few seconds until he stopped staring at his former ally's remains, feeling a moist streak across his eyes, nose and forehead, and thus casually wiped the creature's drops of blood off his face with his left index and middle fingers. Of course, he didn't expect anyone to shed tears over this particular casualty, especially not if its presence meant that some others like it were running around the mansion also, which would've made his team's job of surviving and finding other officers all the more difficult. Regardless, the RPD captain made a mental note to remember the location of the room where he had prompted the ill-fated beast to follow him with the plan to terminate it as he knew he should, since its reaction to agent Chambers made it all too clear that it was a hunter first and mysteriously loyal to him second. And the one thing that hunters did best was decimate all other life forms. That still hadn't made the task which he knew had to be carried out any less unpleasant, though, and the former Umbrella spy, having been known for his obsession with having as much control in a situation as possible, disliked the fact that the only variable he could control now was how painless he could make the execution for the creature who had to die.

The Alpha team captain decided that it wasn't worth the effort to hold back a sigh after all, as this night had proven to be too long, and now too complicated, for him to feel as collected as he usually did. So turning away from the hunter's body, he headed back in the direction he had come from. Agent Chambers was still waiting for him, after all, and the sooner he returned by her side, the sooner she'd be safer, and he could then count one member of Bravo team as being found alive. It would make up for agent Frost's death, at least as far as the numbers go. When it came to actually finding someone to replace agent Frost's friendship, though, that'd be a much more difficult task, if not an impossible one, Wesker realized as he began making his way back to where he remembered the Bravo medic to be. Then again, a lot more than a friend had been lost so far tonight, starting with the company that he now knew he had naively devoted two decades of his life to, along with whatever number of innocent humans Umbrella's genetic monsters had killed. And there was still the question of what had happened to Miss Warren.

Wesker stopped moving, standing still, with the Desert Eagle casually pointed towards the floor, while at a constant readiness to be raised and fired at any moment. He looked around, then looked around again, hoping to see or hear something, but not finding himself to be so fortunate.

Where in the world had agent Chambers gone?

The older man clearly remembered her standing at the very spot where he was now justtwo minutesago. Why had the medic left without waiting for him to return? And there were no signs of a struggle in the short time it took him to leave and return, such as no blood stains, or shell casings, or bodies of zombies. So the only explanation was that the young woman had left voluntarily, either choosing not to wait for him or because something else had drawn her attention. This was a most puzzling behavior pattern for the ladies on both STARS teams. After he had come across agent Valentine earlier and agent Chambers just now, the two officers had deserted his company.

Before Wesker could start to think of the most likely place to look for her, the corner of his left eye caught sight of movement. Even as he was identifying the identity of who or what was there, he had already spun in that direction and greeted agent Burton with the barrel of his firearm, seeing the large man's face contortinguncomfortably behind the red beard and mustache as the weapons specialist partly raised his arms before lowering them again. Staring down the deadly end of a Desert Eagle couldn't have been fun, even if the weapon was being used by a fellow STARS agent and was then quickly lowered back to point towards the floor while Wesker eased his composure as much as he'd allow under the circumstances.

"Yeah, what orders do you have?"; agent Burton mouthed off the words from a dozen steps away as Wesker was nearing him, as if addressing his supervisor was a chore that he'd rather get out of the way as soon as possible.

"You know my orders, Barry", the RPD captain replied in a calmer fashion, slightly confused about his subordinate's subtle hostility, "To find everyone else, to make sure they remain safe. What else matters? And should you be fortunate enough to come into communication with agent Valentine, be extra careful. She was not in the best of health the last time I recall seeing her".

Wesker didn't know why, but his comment received a look of abject horror on Burton's face, which faded into fury after a few seconds.

"You sick fuck! Don't you hurt her!", the larger subordinate finally exploded in a rage, his hand tightening around the handle of his weapon.

The outburst had been the last of a long line of stress that the captain had been subjected to so far tonight. So Wesker slightly bowed his face while also using his free index finger to lower the sunglasses towards his nose, thus allowing his eyes to lock into Burton's gaze. The expression on the RPD leader's face clearly denoted that he was not amused, his mouth hardened into a straight line and the rest of his features tightened in response.

Nonverbally demanding an explanation for Burton's behavior, the man in the shades received none as the weapons expert's face changed from revealing outrage to revealing first anxiety, and then fear. Without another word, Burton simply turned around and bolted in the other direction, leaving the captain alone as the latter stood in place, hearing the larger man leave and still wondering what his subordinate's demeanor was all about.


	33. Chapter 25 Show Your True Faces

_AN: As always thanks to my reviewers, you guys be's the best!_

Shakahnna Warren sighed as she saw that she was back to wearing regular clothes, with no signs of the lab coat or droplets of water that dripped from her wet figure. Not that her current existence was as bad as having no interaction with the world, but whatever enthusiasm she may have felt at the prospect of being self-aware was dulled when she noticed that she was back to merely watching the past rather than being visible in the present.

The redhead was still in the underground caves, for what that was worth, so she set out in the hope of seeing captain Wesker, still wishing to observe how the RPD agent fared, instead of seeing the result of the night's events after one of the two personalities overcame the other. Regardless, the teenager was finding it hard to keep from feeling dismayed, as she began thinking about her original plans for this weekend, which were mainly made up of her and officer Chisholm pirating a copy of the new Earthquake movie that wasn't due to be released in Raccoon City for another month yet. But instead of that, she'd been stuck in an unbreakable tube, having lost her sense of time, and had no idea what Chino was experiencing while alone at his apartment, especially after he had received news of the finger that Wesker's evil half had mailed to her adoptive sister. And on top of that, playing the part of a ghost who could only rarely be seen by others really sucked.

"Wonderful...", Shakahnna sighed to herself again as she couldn't find even a visible trace of Wesker's better half anywhere.

But it wasn't long before her eyes did catch sight of movement up ahead, which prompted the young woman to quickly jog in its direction, holding her breath without even realizing it until she came across the only other person who was in this cavernous space with her. The redhead exhaled in disappointment when she noticed that the man she was looking at was definitely not the Alpha team captain, though he was still a member of STARS. He may have been one of the individuals who had rushed out of the helicopter before his group had been attacked by a large number of carnivorous dogs, but Shakahnna just couldn't remember for sure as she had been too distracted by her initial discovery of the ghostly status she was in. But regardless, this young man was only a few years older than her, and unlike the unfortunate older officer who had been injured by the room-sized spider, he appeared healthy, if slightly agitated. Of course, the teenager could easily understand why the unknown STARS officer was on edge, considering his whereabouts, but her gaze soon spread to the sleek-looking assault shotgun he was gripping like it was a natural extension of his own body, making it obvious he felt very comfortable in the use of such a high-powered weapon.

Alongside the firearm, the unfamiliar male also had a metal object clutched amid his left fingers. At first glance, the item looked like a mysterious vibrator of some kind, though Shakahnna had to stop and remind herself that such a scenario made no sense. Besides, on closer inspection, the cylinder-shaped item looked smaller than she had initially thought, with a wider base at its bottom. So she stood in place with her arms folded in front of her chest, curious to discover what he planned to do with the object, and still irritated that she couldn't interact with him. After all, he was armed to the teeth, appearing as if he was trying to make his way out of the caves he was stuck in, and in a police officer's uniform, so chances were that he was someone she could count on.

"This be's shit", she commented to herself as she watched the officer twist the item's silver top before placing it within a box-like structure that rested in an alcove.

As usual, she was infinitely displeased at how events were transpiring.

In response to his action, a humming noise started reverberating through the dark environment as the STARS agent looked over the panel and then pressed a sequence of the buttons that were there, each button lighting up in red as he pushed it. He then moved away from the machine and began quickly walking out of the room, Shakahnna lightly jogging after him in an effort to keep up, the lack of lights in this new place making it difficult for her to even see his outline, so she ended up having to concentrate on the relatively bright-coloured uniform that he wore. The police officer was half a dozen yards ahead of her and moving in the direction of a metal, chain link front door that the redhead thought was some type of strange cage, but one that didn't have bars to it.

She fought back the urge to pronounce her desires to place Wesker's second personality there before leaving him to rot, but it was a comforting fantasy nonetheless. But the girl soon realized that the young man had intended on getting inside the box, which she then recognized to be an elevator. Not being sure if she could move through objects in her current state, and not wanting to be left alone if it could be helped, Shakahnna rushed towards him, intending on keeping the new STARS agent company even if she could not interact with his world. The redhead's forward dash ended with her diving headfirst through the narrowing space as the officer was already inside the square-shaped elevator and had been busy closing the front door.

Standing in the now-descending lift, Shakahnna heard herself panting, noticing that she had been out of breath. Was that because she had expected herself to be physically drained, or because she had been nervous about being alone if she hadn't made it inside this moving room? Either way, it occurred to her that the ride was taking longer than she expected, as she could hear the creaking mechanism since it protested against its use, but nonetheless climbed downward at an ever slowing rate.

The teenager's eyes narrowed mischievously, her gaze darting first to her left, then to her right, as she thought of some ways she could pass the time until this elevator reached its destination. After all, the person who was attentively gripping his assault shotgun was just a few inches away, and now that she was at a closer distance, she recognized him to be the same man whose rear end she had grabbed during her first flashback, and she had already gotten away with it once. So knowing in advance that her fingers wouldn't be able to clasp the object of her attention, she reached forth and copped a feel of the same area.

She grinned to herself, thinking that she must be going mad to be enjoying this as much as she did. But by that time, the elevator already came to an uncomfortable stop, prompting the officer ahead of her to open the transparent front door before stepping out of it. There was a path ahead, which the STARS official decided against following, and he turned right and opened the door there, carefully walking through it, with the redhead following close behind him. Once on the other side of the entryway, she spotted a second doorway to the couple's left. The officer opened that one, spotting a red brick hallway that waited past it. Shakahnna was still busy looking at the path ahead, and the dark destination it led to where nothing was visible, when she remembered that the man wasn't waiting for her to finish staring. Instead, the young STARS member had already made his way through the second door to the left, which found Shakahnna widening her eyes when she noticed that the metal door finished closing and then clicked shut with a finality that told her she was back to being alone.

"Oh...", she looked at the floor, a moderate sense of sadness overcoming her, at least temporarily, though she objectively knew that she wasn't any more on her own than she had been while in the man's company. Keeping an eye on a member of the same team could have been a vaguely useful action. At least it allowed her to keep a protective eye, even if that said eye could not have made any difference. The captive just wished she could have offered something to make the journey for him a little less dangerous.

And it would've just been nice to hear a voice that wasn't hers. It was unpleasant more than she could say since she was unable to walk through objects like walls, especially considering that she felt as close to being a ghost as she could imagine. And for the second time now, she wondered again if this was some kind of cruel joke where everything was happening because she expected it to take place.

The young woman sighed, telling herself that there was no point in figuratively crying over spilled milk. At least she wasn't stuck in some closet, she thought quietly as she started walking down the gloomy hallway, feeling glad that she was an untouchable spectre for the second time since she had come across the black spider that was almost as large as her room back in the Warrens' mansion. After all, not being visible or solid meant that any monsters who were lurking amid this dark depth couldn't attack her.

The thought of being back home in a more comfortable and less insane environment caused her to remember the freedom she once had, and most likely took for granted, as she had been able to call or meet with officer Chisholm at her own leisure, causing the teenager to risk falling into a state of despair. So she had to stop and concentrate on returning to a state of objectivity, as she knew she'd have to if she was to have a chance of being level-headed enough to find anyone that she could communicate with. So she used her fingers to gently rub the sides of her head, at least for a few seconds, before continuing.

The trek led her to walk up steps that had been carved out of the same bricks that made up the depressing corridor, then turned around a right-handed corner, passing several closed doors along the way, and not knowing whether she felt glad or sorry that she couldn't go through them. Probably sorry, she deduced, as she would've preferred to know what was on the other side of the closed entryways, especially to see if it was anything or anyone useful.

But then again, why was this place so scary-looking? It was almost as if it had been designed to give anyone who walked through it a serious case of jitters.

"Well, congratulations, you bastard", Shakahnna addressed those architects, "It be's working on me".

It was then that the young woman heard a rattling sound that resembled several chains that were being shuffled together, and the noise came was behind her, from a space that was much too close for comfort.

How had she passed whoever or whatever was carrying those chains and not have seen it?

She was still wondering about that question when she instinctively turned around at the waist, twisting her shoulders in a clockwise motion and visually scanning the area behind her. Shakahnna's eyes widened in horror as she spotted a creature unlike any she had ever seen before, and that's even including the zombies or the green-skinned gorillas that she had fought against. From five feet away, a tall figure, which was vaguely female and hunched down, was staggering towards her. Her long, spindly legs were shackled at the ankles and were rotting, the skin peeling off her limbs and dragging as she walked. Her arms were bent as well, with her wrists bound in a rectangular box that was covered in blood stains. And worst of all, there was something very, very wrong with the creature's face, which seemed to be layers of different faces all compiled over the female figure's original visage. So it was impossible to tell what this being looked like originally, but even that wasn't the most pressing issue since the teenager spotted pink and slimy tentacles that were protruding from her back and head, and swaying gently as she blindly made her way down the hallway.

Shakahnna's jaw dropped open at the sight of the abomination which was obviously a human being at one point, before she had been subjected to such brutal treatment so as to turn her into a monster. It was the last thing she remembered thinking before she dissolved from the scene entirely, leaving the reeling creature alone within the confining walls.

* * *

"This is _ridiculous_!", agent Valentine thought out loud as she was staring at what appeared to be a fully loaded and functional grenade launcher.

The RPD officer had remained in the mansion in a desperate bid to track down agent Redfield, continually frustrated by her inability to find either him or even any traces of the young man. Even though she knew she had to find any RPD survivors first and foremost, she couldn't lose the nagging feeling in her mind that she'd prefer to find Redfield above anyone else, even as she remained in the current hallway, the Beretta holstered at her hip and the shotgun strapped to her back.

That's because in the last ten minutes, the Alpha team machinist had come across a balcony and found a strip of cloth that she saw carried a torn STARS patch upon it. Having reached for the torn piece of clothing in her effort to confirm that it did originate from one of her colleagues, she had then spotted a grenade launcher with six live rounds inside as the weapon had been lying in a dark corner between two large plants.

The young woman had picked the weapon up, feeling incredulous that she had found such an object, much less that the item was loaded. But her sense of surprise and outrage had increased when the light from the full moon had reflected on the Umbrella logo that was located on the weapon's handle. So even if anyone from either STARS team had discovered the weapon before her, it had originally been produced from elsewhere. But the nagging question remained – Since when did the local Umbrella pharmaceutical company create such weaponry, and why was it here now?

"Ahem", was the only greeting that agent Valentine heard from behind her, prompting her to spin around, her right hand gripping the handle of the grenade launcher while her left index finger anxiously hovered near weapon's trigger.

It was only after she saw agent Burton at the entrance of the balcony that she breathed a sigh of relief and pointed the massive firearm towards the floor.

"Oh, jeez, point that elsewhere, Jill!", the taller man gave what Valentine suspected was a forced smile, especially considering how jittery he appeared a short time ago, almost as if he never had a weapon pointed at him before.

"Sorry, Barry", the machinist replied as she stepped towards him, "Are _you_ OK?".

"I'm coping, yeah. How about you?", Burton didn't appear any more relaxed, but as long as he was standing still and not running in the other direction, Valentine didn't find a cause for complaint, "Sorry about earlier. It's just this _place_!".

"I know, Barry. It's crazy enough to drive anyone insane", the machinist continued past him and back indoors, glad that her colleague was following back into the lighted mansion, "I've been looking for Chris, after we got split up for the _second_ time. Went back to where I last saw him, but _nothing_. Aside from that, I'm afraid it's 'we are all just rats in a maze' time".

"Well, if that's the case, then Chris could really be anywhere, just like us", the weapons expert's face appeared several years older under the yellow light, causing Valentine to wonder if the wrinkles and creases had always been there and she's only noticing them for the first time.

Regardless, she quickly pushed the thought out of her head. Now wasn't the time to wonder whether she was noticing new features on her colleague's faces.

"I _do_ have a new place I found, if you're interested in investigating it", Burton suggested, "It's underground, but I suppose that our Chris has as much chance of ending up there as anywhere else".

Jill Valentine didn't have much of an option to consider. The first choice was to blindly go from one room to another, in the slim chance of running into someone she recognized. The alternative was to go to a previously unknown area, one where her current partner obviously wished to go, and one where officer Redfield would've been keen on investigating if he had walked past it.

"Sounds good to me", she swiftly uttered, more than glad that Burton's strange demeanour seemed to be gone, "Lead the way".

She didn't wish to bring that topic up because she reasoned that he had suffered from an anxiety attack and was now too embarrassed to mention it. And Valentine could definitely sympathize with that. But regardless of the earlier events, at least officer Burton was back to his usual self.

-

"Gets weirder and weirder in this place, Barry", agent Valentine felt glad she had a flashlight within her uniform as she proceeded with caution down the caves.

The machinist was feeling more fretful than before, primarily because the cavernous structure they found themselves to be in after moving past the drained waterfall was a stark difference to the rest of the mansion. Granted she had no love for the living dead, but there was at least some normality to her surroundings before, where she could count on having access to artificial light every time she entered a room and reached for the light switch. Here, within the underground caves, sources of artificial light were few and far between, the illumination from the full moon above having no effect whatsoever. And while she could've withdrawn a flashlight if the overhead lights stopped working, the RPD officer knew she may very well end up losing her ability to see everything that moved once the battery from that flashlight expired.

Officer Burton was only a few feet away, making his way towards the same destination as his partner, suspecting that the female agent felt the same mixture of apprehension and curiosity that he experienced himself. But at least they were well-prepared, he took some solace in thinking. After all, his Colt Python still had dozens of rounds left, even after the countless number of monsters he had disposed of already, and Valentine had decided to keep her Beretta holstered and was currently gripping the more powerful shotgun in her capable hands, while the bizarre grenade launcher remained strapped to her back.

"Yeah, I just want to see what the people behind this whole place have to hide down here", the older man finally replied to her comment after several moments of silence, happy that she hadn't questioned him about his strange behaviour and the reason for him running off earlier, "It would just be nice to find someone else and start piecing the group together".

Even as he finished making his statement, both individuals noticed that the natural walkway they had been following until now narrowed so as to only allow one person to pass at a time. So the two agents stopped, instinctively looking at each other so as to ask who wished to go first.

"Why don't you go first, Jill? If you go ahead, I'll cover you", the larger man offered.

Valentine winced at his suggestion.

"Oh", he chuckled at her reaction, "If it'll make you feel better, Jill, then _I'll_ go first instead. Doesn't matter to me, really".

"No, no!", Valentine shook her head, "I actually feel better knowing that I have you as back-up".

She smiled at her colleague, making the Alpha team weapons expert cringe inwardly because of her indication that she trusted him wholeheartedly.

The female agent proceeded ahead, squinting at the smaller amount of light that was available here, and got to her fifth step when she spotted movement about twenty yards ahead of her. Before she could even figure out whether the movement belonged to a friend or foe, she heard an ear-splitting screech. The next scene was her seeing what she could only describe as a giant, green troll on steroids rushing in her direction at a speed that was much faster than she could run herself. For a split second, she forgot what agent Redfield had told her about the cause of these nightmare creatures being a virus, and went back to her initial assumptions about this being a supernatural occurrence.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!", was Valentine's only reaction as she screamed as loud as possible and froze in place while the juggernaut stampeded towards her.

It didn't occur to the Alpha machinist to take aim with the shotgun, as the weapon remained pointed diagonally skyward, even as the monster had its right arm lifted, intending on attacking her face with its right claws. Having covered the majority of the distance between itself and her within a heartbeat, the creature was within an arm's reach of her torso, almost close enough so she could smell its breath, and had its claws merely inches away from its target, all while she still remained frozen in a panicked state.

The next sensation she heard was an explosive boom as agent Burton's Colt Python had been fired from several inches above and behind her right shoulder. Valentine finally jumped at the new noise, even as she witnessed her attacker being recoiled backwards due to being shot between the eyes, and she felt its warm blood splatter on her face while the creature screeched a second time and fell on its back.

Valentine's eyes and mouth widened as the scenario before her was visually inspected. She realized that she had come incredibly close to being eviscerated, then felt curious as to what this newer, more powerful monster was, and then went back to breathing hard at the thought that they would both be dead if their roles had been reversed and she had been in charge of keeping Burton safe.

"What... What the hell IS this thing?", the female agent uttered when her vocal chords worked again.

She remembered to keep the shotgun aimed at its horizontal body while instinctively approaching it to inspect its condition. Once there, she kicked the monster in the torso for good measure, only later noticing that the bullet from the Colt Python had destroyed its entire forehead and most of its face.

"I don't know, Jill. Are _you_ OK?", her partner asked while approaching her.

"Yeah, yeah", the brunette nodded while looking over her shoulder, also noticing her fast and loud heartbeat for the first time, "Thanks for that. But let's just move".

With that, agent Valentine stepped on the monster's torso, careful to not trip due to its uneven shape, and continued walking deeper into the caves, followed by officer Burton. She just couldn't shake the worry from her mind that agent Redfield may have run into such creatures himself.

They descended down several stairs that were carved into the cavern floor, and reached a closed metal door which agent Valentine opened with the left hand while her right grip aimed the shotgun into whatever may have been behind it. Seeing no movement within the small area, both police officers stopped and looked over the empty elevator shaft that contained a waist-high metal cuboid box that rested at its side. In the middle of the room was a square-shaped hole that was about five yards long on each side, so agent Burton reached past his partner and pressed the sole button that was on the metal box.

"Let's see what _this_ does, shall we?", he gave a smile as a humming sound emanated from below them.

It was only a few seconds until a square-shaped elevator that fit snugly through the floor opening rose out of the ground, the side that was facing the RPD officials being the only one that was free of restraining metal poles.

"Do we _really_ wanna go in there, Barry? Looks a bit rickety", the younger officer remarked, staring right into Burton's eyes to try to read his facial expression.

"I think so, Jill. Looks sturdy enough to me", Burton went on, inspecting the machine closer, "It may be old, but there's no rust".

"OK, anything to find Chris, I suppose", she remarked as she walked on board the transport device first.

It was only when she was inside it that she remembered having used Redfield's name as the object of her search, while not uttering anyone else's from either STARS teams. But as Burton followed her into the elevator and pressed the only button there to start climbing downward, she was relieved that he either did not hear her slip of the tongue or opted to not question her about it if he did. Either way, Valentine was grateful.

She just wished that she could remain that way by finding agent Redfield soon.

-

The elevator took approximately a minute to bring the pair of officers to the ground floor of the cavern. Once there, Valentine exited the apparatus and surveyed the new surroundings. Thankfully, there were lightbulbs that still shined sporadically from the ceiling, so she could see everything fairly easily. There were two possible pathways to take, one that led straight ahead and another was that directly to her right. So turning back towards Burton's direction, agent Valentine came up with an impromptu plan.

"Barry, as much as I hate saying it, if we're gonna look over this underground, then one of us should stay here and guard the elevator", she uttered.

"But why, Jill?", the older man questioned, holding his right arm by his side while his free left hand rubbed his beard.

"We still don't know that there aren't any hostile people in this place, do we?", the young woman explained, "And as far as I can tell, there's no button to even call this elevator from down here, either".

At her statement, agent Burton looked around, confirming her declaration that there was no visible way for anyone on this ground floor to call the elevator back down once it was upstairs.

"So imagine how easy it'd be for some pricks to strand us both here if we're discovered", Valentine continued.

"I suppose you _are_ right, Jill", the weapons expert conceded, "So where would you rather be?".

"Well, my ankle's still bitching, so I'm afraid it may _really _start to hurt if I stop moving and stand still", she offered, "So if it's OK with you, I'll go ahead and report back here?".

"It is, but you should always stay within range of your voice, OK, Jill?", Burton added as he stood guard by the elevator's only entrance.

"Will do. I'll see you in ten minutes no matter what I find", Valentine promised before painfully walking down the path that was straight ahead of her.

Upon carefully opening the metal door and seeing nothing on the other side, she ventured through it, looking behind her once after she placed a large piece of rock in front of the door to keep it ajar permanently.

"You also remember to give a yell if you need a limping cripple to come running to your aid, OK?", she smiled in an effort to relieve the tension, feeling more confident of her ability to deal with more of those monsters if they should come across her.

"Will do, Jill. Just be careful", Burton smiled as he casually waved back.

She wasn't sure if it was a genuine smile because he felt somewhat more relaxed, or a fake one he was using just to pander to her. Either way, the sooner she looked over the nearby surroundings, the sooner she could return to his side.

-

It was a few minutes later that agent Valentine came across a two-sided fork in the corridor, so she took the left turn and lost sight of officer Burton from behind her, which prompted her to be ever more vigilant with the weapon. Following the left-hand turn, she travelled in a semi-circle until she reached the end of the twist, which brought her to another hallway, and she was able to make a mental note that both turns at the previous fork most likely led to this same place.

The machinist was about to ask herself what use that information was when she stopped cold, her ears having caught a sound that she didn't believe was generated by her. Agent Valentine stood still, holding her breath and ensuring that even her pained ankle remained immobile against the dirty floor. Past the gentle beating of her heart, she heard a noise that originated from the darkness that had enveloped the second hallway that was waiting for her past the left turn she had taken. She couldn't see anything, primarily because the sporadic light bulbs that had been shining her way so far abruptly ended here, causing only a flicker of illumination to make its way at the beginning of this second hall, but beyond that waited an area of pitch black darkness. And unfortunately for agent Valentine, it was that place where the clanking was coming from.

Friend or foe, she asked herself, more out of reflex than anything else. It was possible that a creature within this house of horrors was now carrying a chain, and the last thing the young woman wanted to see was another one of those green trolls who was carrying a chain with the intent of playing a sadistic game of bondage. On the other hand, though, the sound could've been that of one of her colleagues from STARS who was chained up somewhere.

While debating the possibilities of what it may have been, the police officer ended up cursing whatever power had made it so that there were no ceiling lights to be able to see down this dark pathway. She remembered that she had a functional flashlight, though, and as much as she would've preferred to turn around and quickly walk back to where agent Burton was waiting, she knew that she would need to investigate this noise first.

So agent Valentine breathed in, holding her breath after she inhaled so as to be able to hear as much as possible. After a few seconds, she concluded that the steady clatter of chains was actually getting louder, which meant that unless she was grossly mistaken, then the person or monster who was causing the noise was approaching.

Feeling grateful for the small amount of good luck where she didn't have to venture off into the darkness, the RPD agent placed herself behind the wall of the beginning of the corridor, at the very end of the circular left turn that she had finished to get here. That way, she reasoned that another one of those green, rushing monsters wouldn't be able to target her so easily. She also aimed the barrel of the shotgun into the middle of the gloomy darkness, making sure that her breathing was now slow and soft, so that no noise distracted her from the continuously louder rattle of chains. And just to be careful, she glanced over her own shoulder every few seconds to make sure that nothing was creeping up on her from behind.

Then, after an inconceivably long waiting period, agent Valentine spotted movement that emerged out of the hallway and into the beginning of the illumination that was cast by the lighted area where she was standing. The first advancement was when she saw a bare foot that slowly made its way out of the enveloping shadows and towards her. It appeared to be a human foot, even if it was extremely dirty, but was also unusually long.

The owner of the foot didn't make his or her way closer, for whatever reason that Valentine couldn't tell. But after the several seconds that she was staring at the foot itself, squinting to help her see better since she still refused to move from the relative safety of the wall at the base of the corridor, the Alpha officer's eyes were drawn to a strange blemish in the centre of the foot. It was only after staring at it for several more moments that officer Valentine reacted with abject disgust because she realized the blemish in the middle of the foot was actually a hole, one that might've been made by having a large nail impaling the foot itself.

Finally, the leg that was attached to the foot was made visible That led the officer to believe that she was probably dealing with a female creature since the emaciated, nearly skeletal limb had the torn and dirty remnants of a previously white-colored dress hanging halfway down its thigh. The next movement brought the other leg into the light, and with Valentine watching so eagerly that she had stopped looking over her shoulder, two clenched fists that were confined within a rectangular, metal and wooden restraint were made visible. There were traces of dried blood around her wrists and forearms, as well as on the rectangular restraints themselves.

"Oh my _god_! You poor kid!", Valentine's abhorrence towards whoever had placed this person in such a state increased, causing her to fully reveal herself in the light towards which the tortured person was slowly staggering, "Who _did_ this to you!".

She was hoping to receive an answer, but heard none. Instead, the only sound that followed was the further dragging of the loose chains that were only attached to the manacles which were around her two ankles.

"You don't have anything to be afraid of, I swear", the RPD officer continued speaking, this time repositioning the shotgun so it was casually aiming towards the floor, "My name's Jill, I'm with the Police. We're here to help you. Just come towards my voice, OK?".

The shackled person still didn't move, making Valentine wonder if she had a problem hearing, or maybe a problem understanding English. So the young lady kept her weapon aimed downward with a right grip and limped towards the victim, extending her left hand, palm up, in the unfortunately girl's direction.

She had come to within three feet of being able to touch the manacled fists when the hands' owner revealed her face by stepping into the light first. Valentine stopped moving forward and her eyes and mouth widened when it became instantaneously obvious that this creature was no longer a human being. A detached part of herself noticed that she had mistakenly thought that her limbs were merely dirty and withered in the surrounding darkness. But being this close and having some source of nearby light made it clear that this individual's skin was actually rotting as the officer could easily see what little muscles were underneath it. In addition, the tortured girl wore several dry and weathered masks over her head, each one jaunting out from behind the last, all underneath what was probably pretty auburn hair at one point, but was now thinning and missing chunks, leaving bald patches. And while Valentine wouldn't have believed so if she had been anywhere else, the occurrence of this horrific place made it painfully obvious that the creature was essentially wearing other human faces over her own, while her original head appeared to be nothing more than a skull with yellowish purple eyes peering through it.

"Oh, Jesus!", Valentine gasped as she quickly placed her left hand over her own mouth, backing away from the being that was once human.

She fought the urge to throw up, and succeeded, while she was quickly limping backwards, as she was unable to get the image of the grotesque face out of her mind, even after she intentionally stopped looking into the creature's eyes.

"Uuh... Look...", the officer withdrew the hand from her mouth and tightened both hands around the shotgun, "If you can hear me, now's the time to give me a sign, OK? Uh... Please?".

The formerly human creature screamed in a parody of a woman's voice and lunged forward, her bound hands reaching for Valentine's face, even as the latter gasped in fear and pulled the trigger. A small explosion of noise followed as the shotgun blast struck the targeted girl in the torso, and the panicked police officer saw her recoiling slightly from the impact as the ammunition entered her malleable body and caused no visible damage.

The creature screamed yet again, this time causing an eruption of white-colored liquid that blew out of the general area of her eyes, along with the protrusion of several thin tentacles that rose out of her upper back.

"Oh, fuck this!", was all Valentine uttered while turning around and bolting as quickly as her wounded ankle could manage to carry her, back in the direction that she had come from.

-

Nearby, agent Burton had heard his radio calling for his attention merely seconds after officer Valentine left his presence. The weapons expert promptly picked the device up, knowing who was on the other end. After all, only one person besides himself knew that the radios were actually operational. He hoped he wasn't being contacted to be reprimanded for the anonymous warning he had left his colleagues after having seen the mysterious female monster near the cabin in the woods. That's because after spotting the creature who was wearing several faces over her own, she hadn't slowed down her approach towards him despite the six rounds he had fired into her from point blank range.

"What do you want, Wesker?", the large man blurted into the device, glad that his partner wasn't nearby to hear him talk.

He was ashamed of himself as it was.

"Not enjoying the festivities, Barry?", the RPD captain's tranquil voice could clearly be heard on the other end.

"Cut the crap, Wesker! What do you want?", Burton was angry at his superior's word games, and even angrier at himself for the relief he felt after hearing the relaxed tone of voice that the captain carried, indicating that the latter wasn't currently angry.

"Are we perhaps busy, Barry? Maybe entertaining our lovely miss Valentine? Shame on you. She's young enough to be your daughter", the Umbrella employee smirked as he replied.

"I said what do you want!", the officer barked back, his superior's comments not being able to rile him up any more than he already felt.

"Your support is required in a somewhat delicate matter. In fact, an old friend who I thought was deceased has made itself known to me, and I need you to be at the little alter Spencer set up forthwith, to assist in dealing with her. I trust you know where that is?", Burton's tormentor continued, "The gate behind the stairs in the lobby where you initially entered my mansion, that's where it is located".

"We checked there earlier, Wesker. It's locked", the RPD officer replied.

"Remote access lets me lock and unlock doors anywhere here, Barry. Surely, you do not assume that, in a functional laboratory, we rely on things such as keys and crests", the captain explained.

Although there was no hint of annoyance creeping into his voice, the tone used was less playful regardless.

"In fact, you may find some of your friends being behind locked or unlocked doors as a result of this. So cease with this idle prattle and make your way there", Wesker ordered.

"But I can't leave Jill _now_!".

"I'm afraid, Barry, that is no longer your concern", the captain's neutral voice countered, "As delightful as miss Valentine is, she doesn't hold a candle to Kathy".

"I'll be there in ten minutes, Wesker. Just cool your horses", Burton didn't like the direction this conversation was headed, since he had never known Wesker to be flexible in his demands, "I just have to get Jill back to this elevator and get her back to the surface. Then I'll lose her one way or another, I swear".

"Would this problem you seen to have developed be related to your hearing or just your understanding?", the Umbrella employee continued, his voice still as neutral as ever, "You are to report here _immediately_".

"But there's no way off this...", Burton protested, knowing full well that emotional appeals would have no effect on his superior.

"Now, _Agent_ Burton, _do_ let's not have to inform your wife that you lost track of your priorities. It would be sad for her and your children to have to pay the price for their father's delinquency".

Just then, agent Burton heard what sounded like Valentine's shotgun being discharged. For the first time in a lot of years, he felt like crying as he ended up pressing the only button within the elevator and ascending towards the floor above regardless, leaving his partner behind.


	34. Chapter 26 Going Up?

Agent Valentine was groaning with every step she took on her bad ankle, wishing she could ignore the increasing pain whenever she placed any amount of her weight on that foot, but knowing she preferred that ache over being stuck near the bullet-proof monster. She had run around the semi-circular corner and ended up seeing the straight hallway that led back to the waiting elevator at its end. But just as the young woman spotted the square-shaped transport device off in the distance, she saw it rising towards the upstairs floor.

"BARRYYYYYYY!", she yelled out as she limped into the corridor, edging closer to the elevator that was now halfway up towards the above floor.

Almost in response to her scream, she thought she heard the creature behind her crying out the word 'mother'. But the Alpha officer chalked the sound to her imagination, wishing to know as little about that monster as possible, especially now that the pain in her ankle was only getting worse and her mind panicked due to seeing her only escape route being taken away.

Once at the spot where the elevator used to be, Valentine looked up and could barely see the bottom of the transporter from where she stood. Panting heavily and trying hard to not be terrified, the officer tried to calm down in an effort to find a reasonable course of action. So she leaned her shotgun against the wall of the corridor and uncomfortably paced the floor back and forth while looking in the only direction that the _thing_ could've followed her from, feeling physically better now that she didn't have to jog on her twisted ankle.

"OK, there's an explanation for this. There HAS to be!", she rubbed her face with both hands, partially drying the sweat that had been gathering there, "Chances are that the elevator was just called by someone from upstairs, that's all. Yeah, _that's_ it. If it's someone we know, then Barry will come back down here with them and pick me back up. If it's some asshole from _this_ place, then Barry will blow them the FUCK away and THEN come back down to get me. Either way it's good".

She looked back up and held her breath, wincing in a mixture of disappointment, anger and fear when she heard neither the sound of the elevator returning towards her, nor the sound of any gunfire that indicated that Burton had encountered hostile forces.

"So...? Where are the hell ARE you!", she addressed her colleague even though she couldn't see him.

Have to calm down, the RPD officer thought to herself, need to breathe. She inhaled, exhaled, then repeated the process twice more in succession.

"Everything'll be fine and explained once I wait for him to come back", the advice to herself was followed by another careful look down the corridor to see if she was being followed, "No point in getting upset".

Seeing no movements, she could return her attention to the elevator above.

"So waiting for you here, Barry. What's taking you?", she sighed, somewhat more tranquil this time.

The few seconds she thought she'd have to wait before getting a response from him turned into a full minute. Then, that minute turned into several minutes, all the while causing the young woman to physically catch her breath while becoming more emotionally agitated.

"Then FINE!", she finally lost her temper while addressing the immobile elevator that remained 50 to 100 meters above her head, "But you had better have a FUCKING GOOD EXCUSE FOR THIS, BARRY!".

Telling herself that raising her voice when surrounded by monsters wasn't a good idea, she forced herself to silence. And after getting a hold of the shotgun, she proceeded back towards the monster that waited around the area after this hallway where the lightbulbs stopped working.

"Because I'm gonna make you pay for this the next time I see you, one of us or no!", she promised her colleague in a regular voice before continuing to herself in a whispered tone, "If I ever get past that tentacled bitch who's waiting for me, that is".

It wasn't long before agent Valentine came face to face with the pseudo-female that she had tried to evade a short time ago. By now, the previously human monster had made her way through the semi-circular curve in the corridor and seemed to definitely sense the officer's presence. Whether it was because she could clearly see Valentine standing there, or had either smelled or heard her, the STARS officer couldn't say, and she didn't care at the moment since she took aim with her shotgun and opened fire three times. Her target was struck in the torso and staggered back, emanating a screech that was either confusion or pain, but still showed no other sign of damage.

Holding back the desire to scream in frustration at the impossibility in front of her, the officer instead lowered her upper body and presented only her left upper arm and shoulder to her antagonist.

From that position, the young woman rushed forward, gritting her teeth in reaction to the pain in her ankle and then knocking the abomination backwards. The creature almost fell on her back, but regained her balance at the last moment and stayed on her feet after having staggered two steps away. Regardless, that was all the distraction Valentine needed from her opponent's point of view, which she capitalized on by keeping her head down and rushing by the part of the hallway that was furthest away from the female being.

She didn't slow down from her hobbling retreat while increasing the distance between herself and the seemingly indestructible foe, but noticed a partly-illuminated pathway that led to a third area behind the monster, one that she had previously missed while proceeding from the elevator to here.

With her only two options being that she could've reached for her flashlight and continued ahead until she walked into the pitch black hallway, or turned aside and followed the new, well-lit corridor, Valentine opted for the latter and limped in that direction. She climbed down three steps, past two metal hooks on the wall that carried what seemed to be a broken weapon. But as strange as that appeared, Valentine didn't feel like investigating it, especially as she could still hear her pursuer coming towards her at a slow, steady pace from behind. So instead, the officer tested the metal door that was past the hooks, and found it to be thankfully unlocked, thus she made her way through that entrance and closed the door behind her, finally shutting out the noise that the shuffling creature kept making.

It was only then that the young woman allowed herself the chance to lean against the other side of the metal door, feeling the waning pain in the ankle that she guessed may have been swollen by now.

Catching her breath, she sat down on the stone floor and surveyed the area around her while casually resting the shotgun on her lap as she reloaded the weapon. Directly ahead of her was a man-made pathway created by the same brown stone that she was sitting on now, which later turned into slightly uneven, though visually pretty, green stone as the corridor turned right about forty feet away. To her very right, on the other hand, was a pathway that was filled with waist-high water. It was easy to decide which option she preferred, so not wishing to get too used to the comfort of being in a seated position, as she didn't wish to start feeling every ache that she was sure her body was experiencing, Valentine stood back up and proceeded straight ahead.

"After all the trouble I'm going through to find you, Chris, I expect _you_ to pay for dinner once we're back in the city, whether I decide to be a 'modern' woman or not", she sighed to herself as she limped towards the green floor.

Once turning towards the right, she then turned into a second right corner, which effectively made her walkway into a giant U. But the texture of the ground here was different, as if it was more moist than previously, and Valentine felt the urge to scream when she recognized why. That's because several yards ahead of her was the same waist-high water that she had preferred to avoid in the first place.

"Come on, Jill, it's only water", she tried to encourage herself, and failed, as she walked into the cold liquid that gradually climbed from her feet, up to her ankles, up to her knees, then thighs and finally to her stomach.

"This is so I can see my _cat_ again. Yeah, that's it", she bit her tongue to keep her teeth from chattering, "So you better appreciate this, Kous-kous, you fat cat".

Just then, her eyes caught movement within the water, which instinctively made her aim the barrel of the shotgun in its direction. But she soon realized that the creatures there weren't zombies or dogs, or any of the nameless monsters she had seen so far, but 2 to 3-foot long, thin snakes instead. The idea of shooting them with either her shotgun or Beretta came and went, the officer deciding that she'd be better off simply hurrying through the watery obstacle instead. She frantically looked up at the sight of several pipes that were horizontally aligning the wall over her own head. But she quickly had to admit that the pipes were too high for her to reach, so they could not be used as a route for her to take while crossing the obstacle that was filled with snakes. Thus, swearing at every slithering animal there, Valentine splashed her way first to a left turn, and then quickly through another left turn, with the grenade launcher on her back wobbling uncomfortably with every step she took, until she noticed that the water was receding. Continuing her jog through the area, she eventually came back on dry land, feeling lucky that she hadn't been bitten, and that all the snakes seemed to prefer staying within the deep end of the water only, as none followed her.

It took her longer than it should've to notice the medium-sized room that was directly in front of her. But rather than spotting it right away and checking the dark corners for possible enemies, the officer spent almost a full minute shaking as much water as possible out of the lower half of her uniform. It was only afterwards that she glanced up and saw the room that had a rectangular table to her left and an unlit fireplace to her right. Past the fireplace was a cupboard with glass doors, and directly opposite that closet, at the far end of the left side of the wall, was another pathway leading out of the chamber. Finally, she also made a mental note of the dozens of giant candles that were lit on the many natural alcoves within the walls. Most of the candles were 2 to 3 feet high and approximately ten inches thick, so their longevity was assured even if they remained lit for days on end.

Suppressing her desire to announce her presence as she had been trained to do when entering a residence while on duty, Valentine kept a tight grip on the shotgun as the brunette stepped closer to the table first. On its surface, she saw a pile of human teeth, which was disgusting enough to bring a cringe to her face. Near the grisly pile was a grouping of hair, varying in colour between blonde, brown and black, as well as differing in length. Curiously lifting some of the hair off the tabletop with her left hand and examining it in the dim candlelight, the agent felt so repulsed that all she could manage was a laugh as she dropped the hair back on the wooden surface.

"This thing is collecting trophies now?", she thought out loud, "What the _fuck_ is the matter with it?".

In the last five years as a police officer, agent Valentine had seen several brutal murder cases, even if she hadn't worked on them by herself. But this scene was more like the one belonging to a superhuman serial killer, with a fetish for collecting body parts. In fact, that's exactly what it was.

Lastly, near the stack of hair rested a collection of really old, battered dolls of various sizes, indicating that, true to her earlier suspicions, the creature she had been evading truly was a young girl at one time. So it was all there was to see on that part of the room as the officer turned her attention away from it and limped towards the glass cabinet, in the hope of still finding something useful to help herself escape this hellhole.

But upon standing in front of the cupboard, she quickly found herself wishing that she had left that entire area of the room alone. That's because the young woman saw six masks that she immediately knew to be made out of human skin, especially after having witnessed the monster wearing human faces over her own a few minutes ago. The six masks were hung vertically on hooks at the back of the closet, forming a ghastly scenery for her to observe. Worst of all, Valentine suspected that she recognized one of the faces that were staring back at her, as it seemed to belong to a certain Sarah Marteni, who was a female hiker who had been missing in the mountains about a month ago. Valentine clearly remembered Sarah's face from the pictures that were repeatedly advertised in newspapers and television news programs, all to no avail. But at last, she understood why that hiker had never been found, the reason being that her face was now sitting in this closet and looking back at the officer with empty eye sockets.

"You bitch!", Valentine whispered to herself before the tone of her voice increased, "You sick fucking BITCH! I don't give a shit if you're bullet-proof! You try that again with any of my friends and I'll be feeding you a grenade!".

Not being able to suppress a shudder, the young woman then moved past the large candles and through the only pathway out of the repugnant room. What followed next was a chamber that appeared to be the creature's bedroom, as it contained a bed in the distance that supported checkered covers. A set of drapes hung on either side of the entryway that Valentine used to enter the place, so she quickly rammed the butt of her shotgun into each curtain, just to ensure that nothing was hiding behind them. Once satisfied that she was alone, she surveyed the circular table to the left of the path she used to come into this second room. There was only a rectangular, red jewellery box on its surface, which the officer wasted no time before opening. Inside the container were two pictures of an adolescent girl with who appeared to be her parents. The first was in black and white while the second was in colour, but was also ripped in half. Underneath the pictures was an octagonal crest that was slightly larger than her hand, which the young woman decided to put within her uniform, just in case it proved to be useful as either a tool or a piece of evidence later on. And beneath that stolen crest lay four extremely old sheets of paper, which the STARS expert picked up also, though this time with more care so as to be able to read their hand-written contents.

"November 14th, 1967", Valentine read the first sheet's words verbatim, "I feel dizzy after that shot they gave me. I don't see Mom. Where did they take her? She promised that we would escape together. Did she escape alone and leave me behind?".

She eagerly stuffed the first note into her pocket before reading the second one.

"November _15th_, 1967, this time", she continued reading, "I found Mom. We ate together. I was very happy. But she was a fake. _Not_ my real Mom. Same face but different inside. _Have_ to find Mom. Have to give face _back_ to mother? I got Mom's face back. Nobody can have my Mom except me. I attach her face to me so she doesn't go... _away_? Because Mom sad when I meet her without her face".

The officer stuffed the second sheet of notes into her pocket.

"Oh, Jeez. What the hell were these assholes _doing _to that poor kid to make her feel that like? Just imagine, huh?", she told herself as she looked over the third sheet, seeing that the spelling here had gotten clearly worse.

"November 17th, probably 1967 from what I can make out", she added out loud, looking over her shoulder once to make sure she was still alone, "From inside box, scent of mommy. Maybe true mother there. Stone box hard. It hurt. Steel rope in the way. Can't see mother because four stones. What the _hell_ is she talking about? Daddy attached first, mom attached second. _What_? She moved no more, she screaming. Just want to be with her".

Not feeling as antagonistic towards the creature any more, Valentine put the third sheet away and read the fourth and last one.

"Mom, where? I miss you", was all that last sheet contained in the same bad grammar.

Valentine felt herself gritting her teeth as she crumpled the last note and dropped it on the floor while looking over the rest of the room. The only other piece of furniture there was in the side of the room opposite the bed, so she inspected that cabinet that had several framed pictures sitting on top of it, depicting the same girl and parents as the photos inside the box. With nothing else to keep her attention, the STARS officer proceeded to make her way out of this second room.

"Whichever bastards did this to turn that little girl into that monster, if you're still alive, it's not going to last, I guarantee it!", she promised herself as she saw more green stones outside the exit for this second area.

Her teeth together in a silent rage, she noted that one path led right, while another led left, and being right-handed, Valentine picked the former. She followed the green stones for about fifteen yards and turned a corner before realizing it was a dead end, so she then turned around and followed the left trail. Having continued down this second path and around a new corner, she instinctively held her breath at the sight of a metal ladder that led straight up.

"Oh, I _really_ hope this gets me outta here!", she wished out loud through clenched teeth as she began climbing the ladder one careful step at a time, the grenade launcher suddenly feeling heavier than ever before on her back.

The metal creaked in more places than she cared to count as she kept ascending on it, each sound it created causing her to worry that the step she was using might break, even if regular port-a-lights were positioned every few yards to illuminate her progress so she wasn't travelling blindly. Fortunately, the old ladder proved to be a sturdy one, and after what Valentine guessed to be a 50-yard high trip, she came across a steel, rectangular cover that was embedded in the ceiling. If this opening was locked, then she had made the entire dangerous trip up the ladder for nothing, so Valentine held her breath and examined this new obstacle, seeing that the rectangular piece of flat metal that was over her head was divided in the middle into two equal halves. So she haphazardly used the right hand to place the shotgun within the same compartment on her back where the grenade launcher was stored, while her left hand kept a death grip on the highest part of the ladder. Then, she used the right hand to force as much pressure as possible into one of the two metal divisions above.

After a few seconds of pushing and grunting as a result, she gasped in pleasure when she felt the opening giving away as half the rectangular obstruction actually lifted and she felt the warm night air on her face.

"Oh, thank you!", she uttered to no one in particular as she pushed the metal cover away until it was opened and climbed through the new gap.

Once above ground, Valentine kept the opened obstacle as it was, without closing it, even though she wasn't sure why that was. In the back of her mind, something indicated to her that the female monster may have seen her disturbance of it, but on the other hand, she wished to keep the metal cover open in case anyone else ended up being stuck in the same area as her. So having made up her mind, she quickly withdrew the fully loaded shotgun and moved on.

She found herself standing inside an old wooden cabin. To her left was a trail made up of very fine sand, which she summarily crossed and then followed as it twisted into a left turn. Once there, among sporadically lit candles that showed her the surroundings, she spotted a large table with various tools lying both on its surface and on the floor around its legs. Items such as shovels, boxes, spades, planks of wood and nails were everywhere. Swiftly looking over them, she saw no signs that the indestructible child creature had interacted with them, leading Valentine to guess that this aged cottage was used as a place to keep gardening tools at one time in the distant past.

So paying no more attention to that scene, Valentine jogged past the table and took the left path after it. She was relieved that her ankle felt somewhat better by now, but also hoping that the dim light from the few candles wasn't hiding some grotesque horror scene that she didn't see at the moment. She encountered a handful of descending steps, hurried past them, spotted an unlit fireplace, and finally saw glass windows that showed her a panorama of the starry night outside. Thinking it odd, officer Valentine saw the prospect of being outdoors and finding her way back to the mansion as a sense of freedom, since the mansion meant she could at least work on trying to find agent Redfield, as opposed to being all alone here.

It didn't take her long to make her way outside, also feeling better that she no longer had to depend on the candlelight that reminded her of the sight of the half a dozen faces that were piled in the cupboard. Instead, the while illumination from the full moon was enough for her to see the roof of the mansion that she and her colleagues had bolted into after officer Frost's demise. She approximated that the palace full of zombies was about 500 yards away, which was longer than it sounded considering she was outside and in danger of being attacked by many different kinds of malevolent creatures. But she had a shotgun that was much more powerful than her standard Beretta, which could probably cleave a dog in half from a good distance away, and plenty of ammunition for it still.

Before she started the trek back to the manor where she hoped she'd find agent Redfield alive and well, as well as agent Burton in the same condition, but not for the same reason, she decided to withdraw the octagonal crest she had obtained from the jewellery box. Looking over its sketch, Valentine remembered having seen the same design behind a staircase in the lobby of the mansion. So she felt pretty eager to see if this object could be used as a key to unlock more mysteries in that dangerous place.

And without further distractions, she put the crest back within her uniform and proceeded carefully through the vegetation, ready to pull the trigger against anything that was dumb and ugly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Agent Burton felt the tension in his body becoming so great that it was threatening to drown out whatever little lucidity he had left. He had been standing at this elevated alter for what felt like an eternity now. In truth, it was probably a bit less than half an hour. But the STARS weapons expert had been so tortured in the last thirty minutes that he had very briefly, but seriously, contemplated the idea of taking his own life in a desperate hope that captain Wesker would find no more use with his wife and daughters if he was dead. But that notion had been dismissed quickly, as Burton remembered what kind of sadist the RPD captain really was, and his colleague was probably cruel enough to make his family pay dearly even after the suicide was over.

Regardless, it didn't take away from Burton's guilt that Wesker had demanded he leave officer Valentine behind, right after he had heard Valentine fire her weapon, of all times. And it was all just so he could rush to this alter, as instructed, and spend longer than he cared to count waiting and having nothing to do. So the bearded man looked over the side of the raised platform for the tenth time, wondering why this place was even built. Just in front of him was a marble coffin that was attached by chains to four stone boulders on the four edges of the platform. Beyond that was a steel grate which waited behind the larger-than-life statues of two maidens. But the strangest aspect of this area was the height, as the alter he stood on was very high off the ground, to the point where the fog below made it impossible to see the ground itself.

And why the hell was he worrying about the décor of this goddamn place when he had left Jill to die and would most likely die himself after watching Wesker kill off his family? He bitterly pushed that last thought out of his head, as getting angry at the captain wasn't going to save any of the survivors who had made it this far. But still, why was the leader of both STARS teams making him wait so long?

"Ahem!", what sounded like a relaxed male voice getting his attention snapped him out of his reverie.

Burton turned around, telling himself that Wesker had finally showed up, and instead froze in place in a sudden combination of shock and partial joy at seeing an irate Jill Valentine standing a few feet behind him. The young woman wore an angry look on her face as she had placed the shotgun in the compartment at her back, next to the grenade launcher.

On one hand, Burton was elated that his colleague was alive, both for her sake and because it meant he didn't have her death on his conscience. On the other hand, though, he soon worried that captain Wesker would show up at any second and see her there, thus assuming that he had disobeyed the order to leave her behind. That could only be a bad thing as far as the well-being of his family was concerned.

The weapons expert considered telling Valentine to leave, but one look into her face indicated that she wasn't going anywhere without an explanation as to his behaviour while he was guarding the elevator earlier.

"Oh, Jill! It's good see that you're...", his statement shook enough as he spoke to make even a civilian realize that he was on edge.

The image of Wesker making one of his daughters pay for his supposed misconduct drove him to do something he never would otherwise. So agent Burton ended up withdrawing his Colt Python and aiming it at her torso, if only to order her to leave the alter this instant. But officer Valentine reacted with more speed than he thought she possessed as she smoothly gripped the handle of the firearm and twisted it free out of his grasp, which led to Burton staring down the barrel of his own weapon, with a very annoyed woman holding the handle. In addition to having control of his own weapon, Valentine then took two steps backwards, thus ensuring that the firearm she held with her outstretched right arm was out of his reach.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Burton thought that she had been able to wrestle the weapon away from him because his reaction had been sloppy in the first place. After all, he never wanted to point the handgun at his colleague. So that probably explained how she got the better of him since, as good as Valentine was at her job, the weapons expert doubted that any person could've been fast enough to pull his own weapon out of his hand if he had been in top form. But in any case, that was unimportant as the continuing fear within officer Burton prompted him to point the palm of both hands in her direction as he tried to calm down his antagonist.

"Jill, calm down, I can explain!", he hastily uttered, "I didn't wanna do it, believe me!".

"Start talking, bitch!", the young woman commanded, "I _know_ you're not the type of man to leave me behind in that shithole, so who's pulling your strings to make you do this?".

Agent Burton's mind raced, trying desperately to come up with something to say that would appease the young woman without given away the dire situation that he and his family were stuck in. But even if he couldn't tell officer Valentine what was really going on, as much as he would've liked to have her working on his side against his shaded antagonist, he knew he had to give some explanation, lest the female agent could maybe lose her temper and pull the trigger now. And while it was tempting to break down and recall every bit of hell that captain Wesker had made him endure since the first day he had been informed that his family was being watched by the human monster who had created these undead creatures, Burton knew he had to remain objective here. After all, if he had succumbed to the stress and shared his true feelings with Valentine, then Wesker would inevitably find out about it, no matter how much he tried to keep the secret away from his superior. And no matter how trustworthy both Valentine and Redfield were, he just couldn't risk his family's well-being on their shoulders. No, the older man thought to himself, no matter what happened to him or what his colleagues may think of him, he still had to carry this burden alone. Even if that meant that captain Wesker may kill him by the time this ordeal ended, as Burton knew better than to take his enemy's word for it that he intended on letting the weapons expert leave this place unhurt. But Burton's own life was secondary to his family's safety first, and despite his actions with agent Valentine earlier tonight on the elevator, it was also secondary to his friends' well-being, though he knew full well that his wife and children came before his colleagues at the RPD. So as long as those two groups of people remained out of Wesker's clutches on the long run, nothing else would matter to Burton.

There still remained the problem of keeping both his family and STARS friends from being on the receiving end of Wesker's wrath, of course, and that's where his current dilemma came in. Burton knew that none of his attempts at juggling this very dangerous and emotionally draining situation would be worth anything if Valentine were to pull the trigger now. So what could he say, aside from the truth, that would make the young woman happy?

Before he had too long to think about it, though, both he and his younger colleague heard a shuffling sound emanating from a short distance away. Reflexively turning their attention towards the source of the noise, Burton and Valentine caught sight of the female monster who had her hands shackled and was wearing several human faces over her head. Both officers cringed at the sight, more so because they had remembered how unbeatable this creature was when they had seen her while being alone, rather than simply because of her extraordinarily gruesome appearance.

Their mutual antagonist screamed, swinging her unified hands against the statue on her right, easily knocking that large piece of stone down, and then quickly swung her fists towards the statue to her left, making the second one crumble from the waist up. As she did, a steel grate fell down just behind her, effectively forcing both RPD officers to be stuck within this arena with her, except for the one path that was behind agent Valentine.

Maybe Burton should've been happy that the beast showed up, thus he didn't have to worry about what he had to say to his former partner, as the short-term situation had suddenly become much more dangerous, and looking back into Valentine's face, he saw that she still angrily kept the Colt Python aimed at his head.

"Jill, no matter what you think of me, I'm not your enemy. _That_ is", the older man blurted out, hoping that she'd see that he was being sincere, even as the monster staggered closer to them, "Give me back my gun, Jill. It'll kill us _both_ if you don't, please!".

With the creature coming ever nearer towards them, Valentine frowned as a deluge of thoughts raced through her mind. On one hand, Burton was definitely hiding something grave, to the point of leaving her behind. On the other hand, she believed him when he said that he hadn't wished to evacuate that underground room without her. With both factors being equal, she also knew that she'd never get Burton's explanation if he was dead, which was almost guaranteed if he was made to face a monster of this calibre without any type of weapon to use against it. So the female agent quickly sighed as she flipped the Colt Python in her hand, so that the weapon was upside down with the barrel pointing towards her. She just hoped she wouldn't regret her impromptu decision.

"Thanks, Jill", the older man grasped the handle of his own weapon, truly appearing grateful for her action.

While he swiftly took aim against the traumatised juggernaut with the powerful handgun, Valentine smoothly withdrew the Beretta pistol from her waist holster, even as their opponent bent her knees and leapt impossibly high before landing on the ground several yards closer to the young woman. As soon as the creature's feet landed on the flat stone beneath her, Burton opened fire, sending two rounds into her torso and a third into her face. The monster's only reaction was to flinch back from the impact, as all three bullets found their mark within her body, but her skin closed almost as soon as the wounds were made, thus making the injury be non-existent. Ignoring the older man and his efforts to bring her down, the female creature simply walked past him as if she hadn't even noticed his presence there. Instead, she made her way towards Valentine, extending her shackled hand in her direction while she moved, almost as if she expected the RPD officer to be the answer to whatever problems she had.

From Valentine's point of view, the STARS agent gripped the handle of her Beretta with her right hand only, keeping her left hand on her hip and presenting only the right side of her body towards the advancing adversary. In that position, her irate eyes pointed the muzzle of the handgun towards the creature while the weapon was held at an arm's length and parallel to the floor. And to her surprise, the young woman heard the monster calling out to her in English, as she could clearly hear it moan as it came closer.

"Motheeeeeeeer!", the creature uttered in a voice that originated deep from the back of her throat.

If Valentine hadn't already read her personal notes in the underground rooms, she might've mistaken the word for a groan and brushed it off as such. But now, she knew that the female subject was staggering towards her because it mistook her for one of her parents. Regardless, the unsympathetic look on Valentine's face didn't change as she stood her ground and angrily pulled the trigger in quick succession, effectively emptying a 16-round clip into her adversary in a matter of a few seconds.

The RPD machine expert hadn't known what to expect, especially after seeing her target shrug off much larger ammunition before, but she had expected it to feel something negative after all 16 bullets riddled her battered form. But contrary to Valentine's expectation, the creature kept approaching, this time being only a few yards away from her, even as Burton emptied the rest of his Colt Python on her upper back and rushed to reload.

Trying to ignore the strong smell of gunpowder in the air, the young woman quickly holstered the empty Beretta pistol, only now remembering that she carried a much more powerful weapon that was strapped to her back. Reaching past her right shoulder, she opted to withdraw the fully-loaded shotgun, wishing to make the use of a weapon that she was experienced with, even if the grenade launcher was even more deadly than it. Reasoning that she could use the last, most impervious weapon if this monster kept advancing after the shotgun had been emptied, the Alpha team agent took aim and fired into the creature's face at point blank range.

The creature screamed and staggered back this time, even if only doing so for two steps before repositioning her body and resuming her forward march towards where Valentine stood. And it was only then that her human opponent moved away from the current position, carefully placing as much distance between herself and the nonhuman being as possible. Doing so, Valentine's eyes also caught sight of the four stone pillars that were attached to what appeared to be a coffin in the middle of the ground via chains. Her mind worked quickly as she opened fire a second time, the sound from the shotgun joining the loud chorus of further attacks by Burton's Colt Python, even though the male officer was in a safer position due to him being overlooked, and thus actually having to follow the creature to continue his offensive against it. But Valentine also remembered having read an excerpt in the female monster's hand-written diary back when she had been a human girl, where she complained of four stones that were keeping her away from her mother.

The young woman from STARS wondered if this could be the same place, as the girl was obviously instinctively drawn to her mother after having suffered the trauma of being turned into something that was no longer human due to whatever was done to her by the inhabitants of this place. So could the monster be here because the four stones she had mentioned in the diary were the four boulders which were attached to the coffin?

There was only one way to find out, so Valentine kept the shotgun at a ready position and she partially turned away from her pursuer and jogged towards the closest pillar. Without having the time to explain her plan to agent Burton, she trusted him to keep the monster busy while she exerted herself to push the heavy stone object towards the edge of the ground, which was only two feet of space before the precipice. Grunting as she worked, she slowly shoved the boulder, inch by painful inch, until it fell over the edge.

Watching it disappear into the precipice, Valentine turned back to keep her eyes on the creature, as well as to see what the result on the coffin was. She saw that the chain which had been linked from the boulder she just pushed and was connected to the coffin tensed, which hopefully meant that she was on the right track. As always, the creature was following her, causing her to fire into her torso twice, with little effect, as she spotted Burton swearing and reloading his own weapon a short distance away.

"Keep her busy, Barry!", the young woman alerted him of her plan as she dashed towards the second boulder.

Burton must've understood, as he jogged closer to the monster and fired several more times into the back of her head, all from merely feet away from her skull. His efforts must've at least irritated her, because she quickly spun her head around to face him, prompting him to then retreat several steps away, all the more to keep her occupied while Valentine was busy pushing the second boulder over the edge and towards the precipice below, ignoring the strain in her arms and ankle as she did.

Seeing what she was trying to do, even if he didn't understand why, Burton took advantage of the creature's pre-occupation with stalking his colleague as Valentine turned around after having gotten rid of the second of four stone obstacles. With the unstoppable figure nearing her again, the young woman opened fire with the shotgun for the fourth time, at least forcing the creature to take several steps back as a result. Maybe there was a limit even to her physical omnipotence, the weapons expert didn't know for sure, but he could see that he was much closer to the third stone pillar than Valentine was, so he quickly holstered his weapon and ran in that direction.

Placing his entire bodyweight against the stone block, Burton was glad that he was able to shove the object over the edge of the ground where he stood with relative ease, at least when compared to agent Valentine's efforts, which led to three chains that were connected to the coffin out of four tensing up. With only one more to go out of four, the older man then withdrew the Colt Python again, this time quickly walking up to the female creature from behind as it was approaching Valentine even while the officer was firing into it for the fifth time. Having reached their nemesis, Burton pressed the muzzle of his handgun into the back of her skull and fired, forcing the monster to screech in pain as she staggered forward and then turned around to face him.

"I'll take it from here, Jill! Just take care of that fourth one!", the weapons expert screamed at his fellow officer, pointing in the general direction of the last boulder.

Using the distraction for all it was worth, Valentine uncomfortably winced while she rushed from the edge of the ground where the second boulder had fallen off, running where the fourth boulder still stood in place. Once she was gone from there, though, Burton spotted that the female creature had her attention solely on him, and had her back turned to the edge of the ground that was about five feet behind her. Following a strategy that was made up in his mind on the spur of a moment, and hoping he wouldn't regret it, the large man marched in the monster's direction, firing two more times into her face as he came closer to it. The bullets didn't seem to hurt it any more than any of the previous ammunition, but that wasn't Burton's intent anyway. Instead, the two shots had stung the creature and caused it to shriek as it took one step back from the blows and raised her arms in the air as her torso was forced away from her attacker. With one last resolve, the RPD officer held the Colt Python aimed away from himself and bent his upper body so that his left shoulder rammed into his target, pushing the creature past the edge of the ground behind her.

The last thing agent Burton saw was the female creature disappearing down the precipice below as she screamed louder than ever before, either from pain or fury, or both. But regardless, she vanished into the mist that had formed dozens of yards below where he stood, and he never heard her body impacting against the ground. So either way, he could breathe and relax, at least for now.

Having seen what he had done while she was busy pushing the last boulder away, agent Valentine stopped her current task and left that stone object where it stood. Instead, she opted to keep the shotgun in her grip and aimed away from them both as she limped towards her colleague, finally feeling her twisted ankle and sore arms now that her adrenaline was waning.

"That was a close one", she smiled with a grin, a strong hint of the usually amicable Jill Valentine showing through, which Burton was glad for, "Are you OK, Barry?".

"Yes, Jill. Thanks", he sighed while brushing sweat off his forehead with his left sleeve.

"But you and I aren't finished yet", the young woman's voice became slightly more terse, though not anywhere as critical of him as she had been when she first confronted him at the alter a few minutes ago.

Burton's facial expression revealed how he felt, starting with overwhelming shame at being so controlled by captain Wesker that he was made to leave the young woman to die, then moving on to worry about the welfare of his family if he were to tell her of what's really going on, even if he wanted to. Then he felt a new worry about what would happen if Wesker tried to contact him via the radio that was within his uniform so as to explain why the STARS captain was late for their rendez-vous, since that may have led Valentine to grab the radio out of Burton's hands, thus causing the traitorous leader to harm Burton's wife and children.

Thinking more out of desperation to protect his family, rather than from any thought-out plans, the older man only looked at the ground and ran out of the area, dashing into the same entryway that Valentine had used to arrive here.

"Barry!", he heard Valentine calling after him, her voice sounding more concerned for his welfare than angered at his lack of answers to her questions.

Of course she was more worried about him than feeling as infuriated she should, the older man thought to himself as he exited the alter and left her behind. It was just the kind of reaction he would expect from people like agents Valentine, Redfield and Marini. His colleagues were as concerned about each other as they were about themselves. After all, that's what made lying to them and placing them in danger for his own family's sake all the more difficult.

Unknown to him, Valentine tried to run after him. But the first time she quickly placed her entire bodyweight on her twisted ankle was enough to send a jolt of pain through her leg, which caused her to hiss in frustration as she then quickly balanced herself on her other foot. That caused the pain in her bad ankle to cease, but it also meant that she couldn't follow her older colleague, leaving the questions in her mind to be completely unanswered.


	35. Chapter 27 You learn something new every...

Captain Wesker sighed in annoyance as he was forced to press an automatic switch, enabling the grate to lift back into the wall that it had emerged from. That cleared the path that led to the entryway which had two crumbled statues, one on each side, and lots of stone rubble between them. Stepping over the rocks and dirt, the man in the shades surveyed the surrounding area, seeing three boulders out of four that were pushed over the edge, as well as having caught the residual smell of gunpowder in the air.

"Agent Burton?", he demanded an answer as he continued looking through the empty place.

Hearing no reply, the Umbrella official gritted his teeth in a rare show of anger at having realized that he was alone.

It was dissatisfactory enough that an unexpected outbreak of chimeras had occurred without his handiwork, requiring his attentions to deal with the minor infestation so close to his precious labs. The presence of roughly two dozen of those special monsters may have resulted in all those ingrate STARS guinea pigs not having the honour of meeting his star pupil, which would have had the misfortunate side effect of him missing out on the most important combat data of the entire experiment. So the annoyed agent had to spend the better part of an hour either disposing of or incarcerating the creatures, which meant that he ended up being very tardy for his appointment at the alter with Barry Burton.

But despite this lack of punctuality, he scowled at the thought of insubordination. After all, how dare Burton stand him up even if he didn't show up precisely as expected? Still, though, he had to wonder why his most convenient drone wasn't around just now. And why was the air smelling like several rounds of gunfire had been exchanged?

Almost in response to his mental questioning, he heard a clawing noise emanating from the edge of the precipice. It couldn't be a human, not from the sound of it, and not considering how quickly and efficiently the creature was climbing up. So Wesker swiftly withdrew his 50-caliber Desert Eagle an instant before the female monster who had been pushed over the edge by agent Burton leapt through the air prior to landing on the flat ground near the coffin. The creature must've been either hurt or exhausted by that time, because it tried to jump in his direction, and then her legs gave under the stress of carrying her upper body, causing her to fall on her stomach before she groaned and groggily climbed back up to a standing position.

Captain Wesker's eyes momentarily widened behind the sunglasses as he felt surprised at the presence of the being that had over a dozen tentacles sprouting from her body and stood about twenty yards in front of him.

"Now, what do we have _here_?", the blonde-haired man thought out loud as he lowered the shades towards his nose for an instant with the use of his left index finger, always keeping the Desert Eagle in his right grip because he recognized the ferocity of the monster ahead of him.

All of a sudden, it became quite clear why the insensible Burton had vacated the premises rather than waiting for him like he was ordered. Given the circumstances, Wesker supposed he could overlook this one act of irresponsibility on the part of the weapons expert, especially since he was intrigued by the sight of the monster he suddenly identified.

" To assume that I was dealing with a traditional carrier, how very risible of me", he ended up mildly amused as he placed the shades back in front of his eyes, noticing the many human skins she wore over her head, "But it's _you_? You're a bit of a mess-up.Although, my dear, I would have to admit to being somewhat impressed by this folly. After ten years of tri-viral experimentation and Sir Spencer handling all matters pertaining to your execution, it is certainly with some incredulity that I find you here. I will be so bold as to offer thanks from the ranks of those who, without your so very generous contribution, may not have been here at all".

The smile on his face widened as he approached his opponent, aiming the weapon at an arm's length in front of his face with a one-handed grip as the creature crashed back down on her hands and knees, and then struggled to stand up again as it moaned pitifully.

" Of course, credit must be given where it's due. Surviving a three day extermination process _is_ an accomplishment, but I suspect that someone _must've_ been taking care of you all this time, no?", he asked, knowing that the other being there couldn't answer him, "Spencer's motives were never for the hoi polloi to understand".

The creature only replied by screeching as she rose to her feet and began approaching him, her shackled hands extending in his direction.

"Well, so long as we're both in this vicinity, it would be an imprudence not to collect some of the statistics I came here for", the human announced, "Too bad Barry's not around, but I have someone in mind who I'm sure will be just as capable. Besides, I suppose the close-circuit cameras _have_ caught Barry's combat data for me to retrieve when I have more time".

The female monster quickened her pace towards him, causing the RPD captain to temporarily be forced to retreat, firing three rounds into her torso in his effort to push her away so as to afford him the few seconds he knew he needed.

"Why don't _you_ take a piece of the action?", he gripped the side of his forehead with his left fingers as an all-too-familiar headache formed there.

The RPD captain shook his head, the result of the pain there dissipating within a few moments as the creature brushed aside the effects of the three bullets and kept advancing towards him. Keeping his attention on her, the human winced in temporary pain, finally feeling the headache being gone, and being grateful for it.

Then, seeing the female monster for the first time in his life, his eyes widened with surprise as he had never seen any creature like her before.

"I don't like this", he spoke with a mixture of shock and curiosity, "Can you comprehend me?".

The screech that followed from the banshee told him that she could not.

"Loathsome bastards, how innately disgusting", his righteous indignation caused him to hiss through his teeth as he quickly realized he was staring at a human being who had been subjected to experiments with one virus or another that Umbrella had created behind his back.

It was just another piece of evidence that fuelled his desire to leave this mansion alive, with as many colleagues as he could find, before hunting down and exterminating all the people who were behind the illegal corporation, starting with Claymont. But that was for the long term. What was he supposed to do with this unfortunate specimen right now?

"I know better than to expect _any_ procedure to undo the harm that was done to you", he thought out loud just before the monster rushed towards him, violently swinging her fists towards where his head was a heartbeat ago, but only meeting air as the police officer had efficiently dodged her attack.

Being this close to her made her injured state be even more obvious to the human, as he easily noticed that, in addition to being hunched forward after having been exposed to various acts pertaining to scientific research, she was also leaning to her own left due to having a dislocated right shoulder, as well as preferring the left leg while she walked. Besides that evidence, Wesker also spotted what appeared to be her dislocated jaw, in addition to several cuts and bruises all over her body which indicated that this creature had been on the receiving end of some great trauma that had been afflicted very recently.

Had she gotten into a fight with one of the other creatures here, such as a V-act or a hunter? Or maybe one of his fellow officers had come into contact with her and had to do this in self-defence? All in all, the leader of both STARS teams saw that her condition was utterly barbaric. And to make matters worse, he knew of no ideas that could improve her situation, which he angrily admitted was a feeling he was starting to get used to for the first time tonight.

But even while captain Wesker retreated several steps away, keeping his firearm aimed at her legs as a last resort, but refraining from pulling the trigger, the monster gave up on her offensive against him and turned around. He stood in place, silently watching her as she limped towards the middle of the alter, and saw that she was slowly but surely heading towards the closed stone coffin that was there. Looking over the area, the officer noticed that three chains were tightly connected to the top of stone casket, and a fourth chain was loosely connected to it and was then attached to a nearby stone boulder. Quickly jogging towards the edge of the precipice and staring down, the man in the shades saw that the other, tense chains were connected to their own boulders, which were hanging over the edge, in their own turn.

Turning his attention back to the middle of the alter, he wondered what the creature's connection to the coffin was, and soon came up with an educated guess as the monster stopped in the middle of the casket, gently placing her hands on its surface and uttering what Wesker believed to be her version of the word "mother". She then turned her face towards him while keeping her body pointing towards the horizontal container, screeching much louder while addressing him, almost as if she was trying to protect whatever the coffin contained from the threat she perceived him to pose to it.

An idea dawned on the RPD captain, so he warily walked to where the last standing boulder remained, always keeping his firearm aimed at the creature's lower body. While she never tried to rush towards him again, she did keep her attention wavering from his position to the casket, and back again, on a regular basis. So sensing he could afford to do so, Wesker holstered his weapon and pushed against the boulder with both hands, still keeping her within his line of vision as he did.

Upon the successful completion of his task, he watched the stone obstacle as it fell over the edge, dangling in the air amid the fog below while the chain that attached it to the coffin tensed. And hearing a low, rumbling noise from behind him, the officer turned his head in time to see the stone cover being removed halfway from the body of the coffin itself.

The result on the creature's behaviour was sudden and extreme, as she ambled forward and picked up the skull and ribcage that rested within the container, giving off a cry that was even sharper than before. She cuddled the bones against her chest, as if hugging them while she began sobbing in her coarse voice. All Wesker managed to do was slowly and carefully come closer to her while she sank first on her knees and then lied down on her back, always keeping the skull and ribcage pressed against herself as she continued crying and had fresh blood erupting from every orifice in her body.

The pool of crimson that covered her continued spreading underneath where she lay as she called out to her mother a few more times, the tone of her voice decreasing as she soon wheezed rather than screaming out. Her body convulsed a handful of times as Wesker squatted into a seated position just outside of the pool of blood that stabilized at a radius of two yards around her, constantly watching her as she appeared to die, all the while thinking of her mother as she called out to her, and finally ceased moving altogether after about thirty seconds.

"I hope that gave you the peace you never had while you were in our company, little one", he whispered towards her, hoping that having the creature find what appeared to be one of her parent's bones allowed her to slip into an eternal sleep, "Whoever did this to you _will_ pay, that's the only promise I can make you".

Seeing no movements on her part, and expecting none, the RPD captain stood back up to his full height and continued through the opening that lay several yards behind him, just past the two broken statues and rubble that rested between them.

There was much to be done.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Captain Wesker found it strange that he wasn't exhibiting even the slightest hint of physical exhaustion, even though he estimated that he had been on his feet for more than 36 straight hours now, ever since officer Chisholm had shown him a box with what he had believed to be miss Warren's finger inside of it. That, of course, had forced his hand and resulted in the city's mayor having one of his arms broken, which the STARS agent placed the blame squarely on his victim's shoulders. In any case, if Michael Warren had simply been more cooperative when being questioned, albeit unofficially, about that missing person case, then Wesker wouldn't have had to resort to such tactics to get information out of him.

And why was he thinking of that poor excuse for a man now, anyway?

Oh, yes, the mole in the shades recalled, it was because he had been subconsciously trying to estimate how long it had been since he had last gotten some rest. He had finished a typical shift at the RPD while the situation throughout the city was slowly getting worse, and then had received the cryptic package from officer Chisholm, which then brought him to the mayor's mansion a full day ago now. Oddly enough, he repeated to himself alone, he felt neither physical fatigue nor emotional burnout. It was probably due to a mixture of his disciplined background, as well as the constant worry and adrenaline that must've been keeping him going at nearly 100 capacity.

He only hoped that all his present co-workers were having as much good fortune with their luck and endurance as he had, especially when toiling against his former co-workers. So the man in the shades decided to stop wondering about this factor, even if the back of his mind repeatedly asked why he'd usually experience an emotional burnout that forced him to not be able to pay his full attention to his work after a usual shift ended, especially if the shift carried an overtime extension to it. It's simply because tonight was more important than his typical day on the job, he thought to himself, wanting to end the discussion with his doubts so the entire topic could finally stop irritating him.

Once paying attention to his surroundings like he knew he must, it was somewhat refreshing to be outdoors again. The night breeze was warm and a pleasant change from the musty and dank air from inside what may as well have been catacombs.

Visually, he inspected the giant, outdoor water-fountain that carried a large statue of an eagle on one side of it and that of a wolf on the other. It seemed to have been dried for at least several hours, as well as appearing to be wider than it should've been normally. So approaching the structure to investigate, it didn't take him long to notice that it had been divided into two, equal pieces, which created a descending staircase that was leading into the dark recesses below. Turning his head around once as he took his first step downward, he reached for and activated the medium-sized and powerful flashlight that illuminated the way ahead.

Without hearing or seeing anything, the RPD captain descended the stairs as they had him following a circular, counter-clockwise path until he came to a stop in front of an unused elevator. So there was only one place for him to go, which prompted him to climb inside the transport device and pressed the B2F button since it was the only one there. Spotting some overhead lights there anyway, he shut off the flashlight and placed it back within his uniform compartment, the better to conserve its battery life.

As the machine rumbled to life and vertically descended further into the ground, Wesker counted the length of time it was taking to reach the ultimate destination, just in case he later had to estimate how far he was below the level of the street. And once he reached the targeted floor at the bottom, the police officer exited the elevator and followed the single corridor that was the only way he could proceed. Glad that more pasty yellow lights were stationed within the ceiling over his head, and most of them still functioned, he turned the only possible left corner, seeing that the second dank corridor was longer.

The walls had not seen a fresh coat of paint in years, but this place was obviously not in disrepair. It was still frequently used, yet he still could not see any sign of movement anywhere around him. Only hearing the sound of his own, steady footsteps, he continued down this new pathway and followed the right turn it led to, and walked to the end of that area also.

Once there, the man in the shades continued through to the left side, wondering where his current trek was eventually going to take him, and soon met with a steel door that was either locked or jammed shut. Under ordinary circumstances, Wesker would've turned around, headed back to the elevator and returned to the ground level above. But his keen eyes spotted a ladder that rested nearby, one that started from the floor and continued to an unknown destination below this sub-basement area.

Albert Wesker had to take a look down the gap in the floor first, withdrawing and shining his flashlight there, and guessing that it was only a 15-yard long distance from where he was now. So the leader of both STARS teams then put the flashlight away and retained a right grip on the handle of the fully-loaded Desert Eagle while using his left hand to help climb down.

Once he was standing three floors down from the ground level, he found that the medium-sized room there was bare, except for a large trunk that remained in a corner. Wesker opted to open the container, if for no other reason than because he was curious to see if anything useful may be there. Inside, he spotted several 9mm clips, but had no desire to pick up the extra ammunition, especially since having lost his Glock pistol without remembering where. So he wasted no time in exiting the room, following the only left turn there, and froze for an instant when he saw approximately ten zombies, all of whom were dressed in white lab coats, and who quickly sensed his presence.

The captain considered retreating back into the chamber from which he had emerged, especially when the large number of monsters moaned as they approached him with their extended arms. At least they weren't V-act's, he thought silently as he visually approximated that the hallway which contained him on one end, the group of zombies in the middle and the right-hand turn on the other end was about twenty yards long.

"Seems my obsession with paying you people your dues for your role in human experimentation here was entirely unnecessary", he chuckled, finding it strange that he was finding humor when his life was in immediate danger, "But it seems as though that which gives, can also take away."

Regardless of how these Umbrella employees had already paid the ultimate price for working for their employer, Wesker knew that leaving any type of such beasts behind wasn't an option, especially not after he had been forced to euthanize the hunter whose company he had wanted to maintain. So taking aim with the handgun, he inhaled and pulled the trigger, decimating a zombie with every shot he took as he blew a creature's head off its shoulders eight consecutive times.

With eight dead zombies and two remaining upright and continuing their trip in his direction, the RPD captain swiftly replaced the used ammunition in his Desert Eagle. But rather than take aim against these last two enemies, he holstered the weapon and purposefully approached the two creatures, carefully stepping over the headless carcasses as he did. The first zombie who tried to put its hands on his shoulders received a broken neck as a result, and quickly dropped towards the floor without making another sound. That only left the last undead adversary, which ignored all its immobile fellow creatures and still tried to make a meal out of the human as it met him face to face. But Wesker used his right hand to grip its left wrist, and then placed his left palm against the side of its head before slamming the zombie's skull against the nearest wall, which caused the head to be crushed in an explosion of gore. With that last monster quietly sinking towards the STARS agent's feet and leaving a trail of red on the wall where its head used to be, Wesker didn't bother looking at its remains and resumed his trip towards the right-hand turn in the hall even before the adversary's corpse rested on the floor.

Once following the right twist, he saw an unoccupied corridor, littered with debris and the occasional green herb that he didn't pay any attention to, but which did somehow remind him that he needed to take control of his Desert Eagle again. So crossing that floorspace, Wesker found the last right-hand turn, which was attached to a straight descending staircase. It led down into darkness, but that phased the officer little, as dim beams could be seen at the opposite end.

After following the steps towards the fourth floor below the level of the ground above, he spotted a closed metal gate, which fortunately turned out to be unlocked. And that was a positive variable, he thought to himself, since it would've been an aggravation if he had to turn around and go back upstairs, especially after his belief that he was onto something hugely important within this underground, almost maze-like structure. Upon finding one pathway ahead of him and a second one to his direct left, he decided to pick the latter, oddly enough because the former was better lit and dry, while the latter was dark and covered with about six inches of water on the floor. The RPD captain was tired of following the easiest and least productive searches, so he continued down that second hallway, splashing his boots through the ankle-high, dirty liquid, until coming up to another hallway to his right while a steel door waited to his left. Seeing no movement to his right, the human tested the entryway and found it to be unlocked.

Moving inside the shadowy chamber, Wesker's right fingers subconsciously tightened, which prompted him to look down at that hand and the Desert Eagle it gripped, wondering why he was more anxious in this room than in the rest of this nightmarish compound. Or maybe it was because exhaustion was finally starting to take its toll? Either way, the officer spotted a table that diagonally rested against the far end of the room, which in turn had a personal computer that lay on its surface. So walking up towards it, Wesker casually pressed the button to turn the machine on, twisting away from the table and visually scanning the rest of the room as he heard the computer coming online. The other side of the wall was lined up with several monitor screens, none of which were turned on, so the STARS leader turned back around as a login screen was asking him for his identification and password.

Pulling a nearby folded metal chair to where he stood, Wesker unfolded the seat and relaxed on it as he wondered if his personal access to Ropls, the Umbrella operating system, had been revoked in the last 48 hours. Placing the Desert Eagle on the table, just a few inches away from the keyboard, he quickly typed his relatively high-ranking identification and password from Umbrella Security. He felt partly surprised when the computer monitor seemed to accept his input, and led him to a follow-up screen. Knowing that he never had access to a computer within this place before, and wanting to press his advantage, he quickly searched for folders that could help him find out more about the company that had taken advantage of him for more than half his life.

"Employees, let us start there, shall we?", he whispered to himself as he read the name of the first database spreadsheet that he was interested in.

Looking through the alphabetical list, he first clicked on vice-president Claymont's name, reading that his nemesis was truly the overseer of one of the major Umbrella branches, as he had claimed when Wesker first met him. So he moved on, looking at the information that was gathered on RPD chief Brian Irons, and not surprisingly, read that his employer had planted Irons within the police department for the dual purposes of being an influential supporter and a spy at the same time. It seemed that Irons was actually making more than twice the income as Wesker was, bringing in a yearly salary of $120,000. Not that it was important, of course, as Wesker had never believed that the money he made from Umbrella was the most significant factor in the work he did, and he hadn't thought that once in his two decades of service there. Besides, he gave a sly grin, all the riches that Irons had saved up weren't going to help him when Wesker tracked him down and personally executed him at one point in the future.

But what was Umbrellas opinion of Wesker himself? With that question in mind, the RPD captain clicked on his own name, and was soon confused when his role within the company was mentioned to be a double one, both as head of a security branch and as head of research.

"Head of research?", he thought out loud as he quickly looked behind him to ensure that no one and nothing had seen him there, before returning his attention to the computer screen, "That has not been my position for _years_. No, decades. Makes _no_ sense".

Looking further, Wesker found another surprise when he read the amount for his salary, as his yearly income was written to be $9,350,000.

The STARS captain's eyes widened from behind the shades, so he withdrew his face from the position that was only a few inches in front of the monitor and removed the sunglasses before rubbing his eyes with the left fingers.

"Alright, it's been a long day, a very _stressful_ day", he said out loud as he finished massaging his face.

Returning his attention to the words on the screen, this time without the shades covering his gaze, he saw that the income amount was not changed.

"With all the wheels of beaurocracy turning the way they do, it really should come as little surprise that you cannot keep accurate records", he sighed, telling himself that he shouldn't be wasting precious time on such trivialities anyway.

Moving from that particular folder, he clicked on a second database, this one with a name that he wished he had seen first.

"Fodder?", he read out loud, "I can only imagine what this information pertains to".

It was another alphabetical list, much longer this time. As the RPD officer scanned through the names, none of which he recognized, the only thing they all had in common was their suffix, mostly initials consisting of GTSF, GTAF or GTRF. He was wondering what those terms stood for, and considered skipping to the end of the lengthy list in the hope of finding what those initials meant, when he stopped for reasons unknown, while he was in the middle of the names that started with the letter 'R'.

"Rodriguez, Richard", Wesker read out loud while returning the shades to his face, feeling more comfortable at the presence of the dark glasses, "Why does that ring familiar?".

He couldn't answer his question, so he clicked on that man's name, hoping that the suspicious mystery would be solved. He soon spotted that particular person's age, address, and two dates that were following that information. They were both from approximately three years ago, and only a few days apart from each other. Next to the dates was the term 'T-virus', and finally next to that word was the name for the city's biggest medical facility.

"Raccoon City General Hospital?", the leader of both STARS team commented as he read the last statement, "Why is that menti...".

Wesker's eyes blinked harshly as he suddenly recalled an influx of memories. He almost saw himself standing outside a patient's room at the city's main hospital, speaking to a certain Doctor Bechet as the good Doctor was trying to convince him to leave a certain criminal alone. Ignoring Bechet's advice and pleadings, the officer recalled marching into the room of a perpetrator who had been brought to the hospital after having been arrested by him while committing an armed robbery and having shot an innocent bystander in the process. Wesker knew how that scene concluded, as he had withdrawn his second firearm and killed the armed robber while that man was lying inside his hospital bed, and it had all been so the robber's heart could be used in a transplant operation so the life of the man he had shot earlier in the day could be saved.

The RPD agent gripped his head as realization sunk into his mind. That's definitely why that name had sounded familiar to him.

The name of the innocent bystander whose life was supposed to have been saved as a result of Wesker's killing of the robber had been Mr. Richard Rodriguez.

"Cannot be", he slightly shook his head, not liking the direction in which this thought process took him, "It _cannot_ be the same person. There would be no purpose to his being _here_".

Examining closer, he paid attention to the set of dates that were attached to Rodriguez's name, and stared at them for several seconds, the whole time holding his breath, before he exhaled and understood what the connection was. The first date that was next to the man's address was only two days after Wesker had executed the robber at the hospital in the hope of saving his life.

It was a few moments of searching until he found the meaning behind those specific terms. He gritted his teeth in anger when he learned that the first date was when the person was brought into Umbrella's specific branch, and the second date was when the person died. He also quickly found out that GTSF, GTAF and GTRF stood for Gone to Sheena Facility, Gone to Arklay Facility and Gone to Rockfort Facility, respectively.

Thus, the term that described Raccoon City General Hospital must've meant that it was the origin where the patient had been delivered from, which definitely indicated that the Richard Rodriguez on this computer screen was the same man he had tried to help after rescuing him from the botched robbery three years ago. That also meant that Rodriguez had been brought to Arklay facility a mere two days after the date when he should've received his heart transplant, and then been experimented on with the T-virus, and then had died a few days after that.

For the first time in years, Albert Wesker felt speechless as several thoughts raced through his mind. Umbrella had gotten its clutches into everyone he knew, from miss Warren to officer Frost, and even Mr. Rodriguez. It seemed that everyone who had any type of connection to him, however large or small, was ending up dead or possibly dead because of Umbrella Inc.

But this couldn't have had anything to do with him, right? Just like Umbrella having kidnapped miss Warren had nothing to do with him, as that depraved company had only found the teenager when the young woman was snooping around one of their employees' bases, so it was only a coincidence that his former employer was harming people that he was close to. Maybe because Umbrella has been killing so many people over the years that the law of averages meant that he'd know some of them by chance.

So why couldn't he get rid of the feeling that Umbrella's apparent kidnapping and murder of Rodriguez after the hospital interaction three years ago was more than just some coincidence?

The RPD officer shakily stood back up, taking a hold of his weapon and wishing to leave this computer terminal and continue his search and investigation elsewhere. As of two days ago, he already had enough obsessive hatred towards his former employer to dedicate the rest of his life to eradicate Umbrella and all its associates. So knowing that Claymont, all his superiors and all his subordinates had the blood of one additional murder on their hands wasn't going to change his viewpoint.

He just kept feeling that there were more nightmarish discoveries to be made before he could leave this hell, though. However large this figurative iceberg was, he might've still been only at its tip, even now.

Moving through the rest of the room, captain Wesker proceeded around to a section of the chamber that was separated by a wall of frosted, non-transparent glass. Aiming the barrel of his Desert Eagle there, he saw five plastic sheets that were vertically held from the ceiling via hooks. Inside each sheet was the frozen carcass of an adult man, most of them nude, their cold physical state being responsible for the lack of smell from those grisly containers.

After lowering the weapon towards the floor, the officer looked at the first two bodies, wincing at the horrified and pained expression on those two strangers' faces. The third nude carcass there, though, was someone that Wesker recognized, if only from a nearly long-lost memory. But the name of the third victim was still known as Raccoon City police officer Merton, who the STARS captain remembered had been transferred out of their specific department by none other than chief Irons. If he recalled correctly, Merton had been re-assigned by the chief three years ago along with officers Rook and Irvin. So Wesker wasn't surprised to see that the fourth body that hung from the ceiling was officer Irvin himself, and to add insult to injury, that corpse was still dressed in his RPD uniform. Lastly, and not unexpectedly, the fifth frozen carcass was that of officer Rook, the silent scream, eyes bulging and grossly enlarged so they stared right through him, was so similar to the expression on all the other victims, which convinced Wesker to stop wasting his time here as he had more live people to find. He could take his time and let the truth of the brutality he was acknowledging sink into his mind later. But presently, he had to rescue as many of his colleagues as possible, especially now when he knew all too well what kind of fate would be awaiting his Alpha and Bravo officers if he didn't find them first.

Leaving the annex where the bodies remained attached to the hooks from the ceiling, the STARS official returned to where the personal computer hummed quietly. Eyeing the only exit to the room, the officer worked hard to control his body language, even as he made his way towards that entrance and looked forward to leaving this room so as to continue his search. But giving in to the intense build-up of pressure within his own mind, he absent-mindedly switched the grip that held the Desert Eagle, so the weapon was held by his left hand and not his right one. That's because Wesker clenched his empty right hand into a fist and repeated pounded it against the wall as he walked out of the chamber.

With every strike that he delivered against the flat target, he strengthened the power behind his arm, which started with the hits bouncing off the wall, and then leaving a slight dent against the mark, till they finally drove a gash that was several inches deep within it, before Wesker ultimately exited the room. He ignored the injury that had been afflicted upon his right arm, starting with the base of his outermost finger and continuing for about three inches past the wrist. He felt drops of blood dripping past the wounded limb, before it fell near his feet and tarnished the carpet that he was stepping on.

He would have to get a clean piece of cloth and, if possible, some antiseptic, to wrap around the injury, if for no other reason than to simply ensure that he wasn't leaving a trail everywhere he walked.

Upon leaving the damnable room behind, his keen senses alerted him to someone else's presence, so the officer's left forearm automatically pointed the weapon in the figure's direction. He sighed once and lowered the weapon, feeling the first signs of weariness as he was staring into Jill Valentine's eager face.

"Valentine", Wesker nodded his head once in a greeting and became slightly less tense.

Quickly scanning around the younger woman in the hope that she wasn't alone, he had to be satisfied with the knowledge that she was the only person who was safe and accounted for, at least for now.

"_Very_ good that you are here, after certain things which I have witnessed since entering this facility, I was apprehensive as to whether anyone else had made it this far. Some evidence has been _most_ troublesome".

He casually pointed into the room behind him with the right thumb as he finished talking.

"Good to see you too, sir", the female officer replied, her tone of voice indicating that she had been having just as long a night as him, "Are you here to stay this time?".

"I assure you, miss Valentine, I have no plans for segregation", he commented, mistakenly believing that his subordinate was mentioning the instance after they had found officer Sullivan's body, where he had divided the group of four into two smaller teams, "Have you come across any others till now?".

"No, sir", Valentine shook her head, "Though I _had_ come across Barry a short time ago. But there's something _really_ strange about him, sir. I think he may be blackmailed by someone who's outside here. I can't be positive, but I'm sure something's wrong. So, what's in that room?".

"A very serious allegation, but not completely unfeasible, although we can consider stress to be a factor unequivocally", the captain replied, making sure she didn't try to go through the doorway behind him, "As for back there, it's nothing you need to be concerned about. Just stay alongside me and do not stray like officer Chambers did, if you will".

"Chambers? Like in Rebecca, sir?".

For an instant, captain Wesker considered telling her there was no need to address him in such a formal manner, but he simply wasn't in the mood to be sociable, so the idea wasn't followed through.

"Yes, the very same. I had made contact with her, but she then vanished rather than waiting for me like I had instructed her to", he added instead, "I _do_ hope you're planning to do the opposite".

"Of course, sir", the machinist approached him as she replied, "My only goal here is the same as yours, I suspect. Just the re-unification of everyone here so we can...".

She trailed off, noticing the deep cut on his hand.

"You're hurt, sir", she pointed at his hand, "That wasn't a monster bite, was it? I've been hearing from Chris that an infection could...".

"It's not from a bite, miss Valentine, I assure you", the captain went on, intentionally gripping the weapon with his wounded right hand, not caring that some of his blood got on it, as he then placed his left palm behind the young woman's back to usher her away from the grisly room

A pause followed as both officers made their way further from the chamber.

"But I _do_ believe you're correct", he continued, "No point in taking unnecessary risks. So if you come across something to heal my hand, please be forthcoming".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Are you making a note of these, Becca?", agent Redfield questioned without looking at the Bravo medic as both their attentions were turned towards the projection screen that covered one wall of the laboratory they were in.

"Definitely, Chris. Both names and general appearance, _especially_ those ones which we've not run into yet", the younger woman informed him, pencil and notepad in her hands as she scribbled down the name of a monster whose picture now appeared on the projection screen, this one being called a tyrant, "And to be honest, considering how tough those MA121 hunters were, I _never_ want to meet their upgrade".

A shudder caused Chambers to involuntarily shake before she forced control back over her body.

"I hear that, Becca", her partner countered, either feeling more confident than her, or at least pretending to be, "And don't sweat it. This Magnum you gave me is _the_ ultimate birthday present. I think it may even be deadlier than the shotgun Jill was carrying last I saw her. So whatever comes in front of us is gonna be on the receiving end of my own personal cannon here".

Officer Chambers gave a quick laugh and snorted before resuming her serious demeanour, feeling like a schoolgirl for a brief moment, remembering a lot of jokes she had heard passed around, as she was able to imagine Redfield using that term to describe a much less appropriate object. So she twittered at the double entendre which caused her temporary amusement even in this place.

"That _does_ seem to be the last of 'em", Redfield continued, noticing that they had seen the last picture in the slide, "So let's see what else is in that smaller room there, huh?".

With that, the marksman kept his Magnum pointed towards the ceiling via a bent elbow and proceeded towards the tiny chamber that was inside the larger lab, already having scanned the inside of the second place through the open doorway and spotting nothing dangerous waiting for him there. Ordinarily, he would've expected Chambers to follow him, especially after the many times he had lost contact with one of his colleagues. But during this one scenario, he didn't hear the younger woman's footsteps jogging after him. He was about to stop and ask the medic why he wasn't being tailed, but then thought to himself that there was no reason for her to stay within such a close proximity to him, at least not in here. There was only one door leading in or out of the fairly large laboratory, after all, and the door to the small office within it, that Redfield was walking through at the moment, was still open, thus he'd be able to hear anything that happened easily.

So telling himself that he should treat agent Chambers like the competent 18-year old sister he thought of her as, and not a lost 5-year old child in an amusement park, Redfield continued into the second room, spotting a row of nine television screens on a table that rested against the wall. On the other side of the small room, he saw another table that was covered with dozens of mechanical gadgets, none of which he recognized, so he gladly turned his attention back to the first bench. There, seven out of the nine monitors were active in black and white, showing different parts of either the mansion or the grounds just outside of it, while the other two were turned off.

Coming closer to two specific screens out of the seven, Redfield felt more anxious as he witnessed agent Aitken being in the middle of one, as the communications expert passionately removed a zombie's head with the aide of one of his many firearms. Once the headless creature that was in front of the young man collapsed and rested on the carpeted floor, Aitken gladly kicked its torso three times, either exhibiting anger towards it or simply having fun in his situation like Redfield guessed he would.

Unfortunately, officer Redfield couldn't decipher Aitken's location from the soundless view within the display, and as far as he could tell, there was nothing there to make it possible for him to communicate with his colleague from Bravo team. So thinking that at least his fellow STARS agent was still alive, Redfield turned his attention to the second screen that contained moving images within it, and quickly felt himself gasping in pleasant surprise when he saw officer Valentine speaking to captain Wesker within it.

He suppressed the urge to slap himself in the forehead, suddenly not feeling as worried about agent Aitken's welfare, though he knew in the back of his mind that he'd feel bad about such thoughts in the future. But for now, the only thing he wished to concentrate on was that Valentine was unhurt, and what's more, he believed he recognized where the pair stood while discussing something, though the young man couldn't understand what they said, despite his attempts to read their lips. Either way, that wasn't important, as he recalled passing that area just a few minutes ago.

"Hey Becca! I have good news!", he raised his voice so as to be heard by the medic who was still outside the small chamber, "Richard's still OK, but I can't figure out where he is. But Jill and Wesker are nearby, and they're both OK too! It's _so _good that she's found him. With her ankle and stuff, I was worried about her being on her own, but who's better to team up with than captain Wesker himself?".

Oddly enough, he didn't hear an enthusiastic reply from the younger woman. Hoping that Chambers wasn't getting tired of him continuously mentioning officer Valentine, he turned towards the open doorway that led back to the lab outside this tiny area, taking one last look over his shoulder at the television screen that still showed the object of his affection as well as his leader together.

"Becca?", he called out again as he began walking towards the exit to his room, "That's great. Once we find them, the four of us can look for Richard and Barry together".

"Uh, Chris?", he heard the medic finally responding before he saw her, "Could you maybe come through here?".

While the tone of her voice wasn't indicating that she was scared, it still reflected a sense of urgency, so Redfield quickened his pace and jogged outside. Once back within the laboratory, the marksman saw where agent Chambers still stood, so he locked eyes with her, intending for the young woman to mention what was bothering her.

The expression on Rebecca Chambers' face was a mixture of fear, worry and concern as she stayed silent and merely pointed her left index finger over the level of her head via her outstretched arm. Following the direction that she was indicating, the older man noticed the projection screen that they had been using to observe the descriptions of some creatures they had seen so far, and some monsters that they hadn't yet. Except now, the large monitor on the wall contained a rectangular picture of seven white-clad scientists, which were supposedly individuals who worked in the laboratories that were connected to this mansion. The first six men in lab coats were unrecognizable, but the last one to the furthest right was none other than captain Wesker himself, only this time dressed in the same lab coat as the other men.

It took Redfield several long seconds to truly understand the image that he was staring at, all the while remaining immobile as his facial expression started with numbness, then progressed to shock as his jaw dropped, his mouth gaping at the meaning of what was in front of him.

"She's WITH him!", words finally spilled out of his mouth, addressing no one in particular as Chambers braced herself for the worst temper tantrum of the night, the fear in her eyes having actually increased, "After I told her REPEATEDLY that he was a good guy and she should trust him! He had us ALL fooled! Me, Jill, Joseph, EVERYBODY!".

Angrily holstering the Magnum as he marched towards the projector, Redfield used both hands to grab the heavy piece of machinery and screamed while throwing it across the laboratory. He didn't notice agent Chambers yelping and stepping away from him as she cowered, even as the device crashed against a wall and then landed on the floor in a mangled state.

The attack against an inanimate object not having calmed him in the least, the irate police officer then turned around, his eyes catching sight of where agent Chambers stood, intentionally staying as far away from him as possible. The medic's wide eyes were covered with a thin film of tears as she was instinctively hugging herself, the Beretta pistol protruding from beneath her left armpit.

"Uh, do you want me to, uh, wait outside, Chris? I mean...", she stammered, not wishing to be responsible for more of his negative emotions.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Redfield thought to himself that this was the second event he'd feel bad about after a little time. But for now, he only sighed, doing a poor job of containing his rage.

"No, Becca, I don't", a pause, followed by another sigh, "I already _said _we're not travelling apart, and I meant it".

"Oh, right. Yeah, you... did", she quickly nodded, "Sooo... um…".

"Come with me", the marksman ordered in a thankfully less angry tone as he stalked towards the laboratory's only doorway, withdrawing the Magnum as he did, "Stay close, and _don't _get in between me and him, or distract me in any way".

He made his way out of the entryway and heard Chambers jogging after him, though in a less confident fashion.

"It's for all our sakes, sis", he uttered under his breath.

He just didn't know if she heard him. But there'd be enough time to talk about that once this problem was dealt with.


	36. Chapter 28a An Opportunity Missed

AN: Sooo there was a ton of stuffs I had wanted to put in here but didn't cause of time constraints and thus be'd making a livejournal which can be finding under the user name damnationdiaries I did have the link but fanfic is a bitch and won't let me make there be a link. Ican only apologize (for the content).

Also thanks to enRAGEd, corpastieand Jcarleton for prodding me to update :)

* * *

"So, no one besides agents Speyer and Dewey?", captain Wesker rubbed his forehead as he was walking shoulder to shoulder with the less experienced machine expert.

"No, at least not that _I_ know of, sir. And I didn't see Dewey's body. It was Chris, I mean, our agent Redfield, who told me", Valentine informed him, "I _did_ see Speyer's remains, and his death must've _sucked_, too".

"I would have to agree with that sentiment, yes", the older man continued as they proceeded closer to the steel gate that was at the end of this long hallway.

"Not that there's a _good_ way to die, right? I mean, but the deaths so far have been especially gruesome", the female officer went on, "Ever since tonight started and seeing Kevin in that copter and what happened to poor Joe right in front of us, it just makes it seem as though people dying naturally is a myth, just not the sort of thing you can prepare for".

"Umbrella specializes in the act of shortening the lifespan of everyone who is unfortunate enough to come into contact with its delightful range of products that never _did_ make it into their brochure, in as violent and inhumane a manner as possible. I am sure that their mothers are very proud", the STARS leader confirmed, "I have some _special_ plans for them once we get the survivors out of here. But some moderately good news is that from _my_ end, I do not have any casualties to report to you, which at least leaves some speculation on the demise of any others of our ranks. I _do_ know that agent Chambers is alive, at least. How ironic to have met that youngster under such conditions. And so is agent Burton, at least he was when I saw him a few minutes ago, even if his behaviour was most disconcerting".

"Ah, so Umbrella _is_ behind all this shit", Valentine snorted, "Figured it was them who were trying to pull our strings. They weren't even smart enough to take their damn logo off the grenade launcher that's sitting behind me. But you noticed something about Barry too, I take it".

"The grenade launcher? Really? I assumed you found that weapon from someone in Bravo team", he stole a quick glance in her direction before turning his attention back ahead of them both, "We can take our time and interrogate this company's officials to our heart's desire so as to discover their intentions behind leaving those weapons. And if Vickers should ever return to us, there's a few more such armaments to use at our disposal. I'm sure you'll be glad to know that. I would not worry too much about any puppet masters, Valentine. I am confident that they will receive the punishment they have earned in due time".

"I wish I had your confidence on that, captain", Wesker's communication was usually reserved only for Barry and Frost, so the female agent had expected him to be more icy with her, but was pleasantly surprised that the aloof demeanour usually gracing their leader's disposition was all but gone, "So Rebecca's fine too, that's good".

She nodded with a grin as she continued.

"Goodness knows that Chris couldn't stop talking about her", she gave a quick laugh, and stopped when the older man didn't smirk in response.

It was then that both agents heard the gate that was about twenty yards in front of them opening from the other side, before officer Redfield stepped through the entrance, followed closely by officer Chambers, each of them carrying a handgun.

"Chris!", the smile on Valentine's face widened as she suddenly saw their numbers doubling.

The young woman jogged ahead of the captain's slower pace, quickly shortening the distance between herself and the Alpha team marksman as she kept the shotgun across her torso in a diagonal pose. Surprisingly, Redfield didn't return the friendly look in her eyes, instead merely appearing like he viewed her as an annoying obstacle.

"Hey, Chris!", the machine expert stopped moving towards him when she was within an arm's reach of the young man, the eager expression still on her face, "You two OK?".

"Hi, Jill", Redfield summarily walked past the young woman after the curt greeting and continued marching towards captain Wesker, his eyes focused on something that was obviously not her.

Feeling very surprised and confused by his reaction, she turned around and watched him leave as he kept moving away, as if she was nothing but a barely-known colleague at work and this was nothing but a boring day on the job. While she did, agent Chambers came closer to her, the youngest member of STARS eagerly gripping Valentine's upper arm with her free hand. She was about to ask them both to explain themselves when she heard officer Redfield speaking, but the young man was addressing the leader of both STARS teams.

"Hey captain", the marksman casually reached within his uniform and withdrew the 9mm clip that he had discovered a short time ago, "I found something interesting that you should probably see. It was sitting on a filing cabinet".

When he was close enough, Redfield casually tossed the clip in captain Wesker's direction, continually walking forward at a quick pace as his supervisor kept the Magnum pointed towards the floor and moved to catch the 9mm clip with his free hand. Wesker had made the mistake of paying attention to the container of ammunition that was tossed in his direction, as that was Redfield's plan all along since he took advantage of the distraction to slam the barrel of the Magnum into the side of the captain's head.

The result was that Wesker's face whipped to the side as the sunglasses flew off his head and the older man was knocked down on his hands and knees, all the while everyone there heard agent Valentine yelling out officer Redfield's first name. And while he tried to ignore the throbbing in his forehead and began climbing back up to his feet, captain Wesker intentionally ignored the desire to pick his Desert Eagle or shades off the floor, having to admit that Redfield was clever with his diversionary tactic and even quicker with his attack.

"Chris! What are you doing!", the next voice in the damp corridor was officer Valentine's as she ran towards Redfield's direction from behind him and stopped only when she reached the spot where the young man stood, intentionally placing herself between the incensed STARS agent and the stunned captain who placed his own left index finger on the wounded side of his head, confirming that no blood was there.

Always the loyal STARS officer, Valentine turned her back to Wesker and remained face to face with the marksman, the look of concern vivid on her face as she kept the shotgun pointed towards the floor with the left hand and placed her right palm on Redfield's chest in an effort to separate her two comrades. The next sensation she felt was a gasp of further surprise as the angry officer switched the handle of the magnum revolver from his right grip to his left one, while simultaneously wrapping his right arm around her waistline, thus embracing Valentine as he pulled her closer to his body. Then, quickly turning them both in a clockwise motion by 90 degrees, Redfield made sure to be staring in Wesker's direction past his left shoulder, all the while pointing his handgun towards the STARS captain's chest, disregarding concerns as to how the scenario may have looked to agent Chambers. Satisfied that Valentine was at least content to be explained the whole mystery regarding his behavior while she reflexively wrapped her right arm around his lower back, he could take his time to catch the machinist up about the details that he and Chambers had come across a short time ago.

"He brought us here on purpose!", Redfield started a summary of his accusations as he pressed his face ever closer to Valentine's head as she kept gazing in Wesker's direction just as he was, "He's _part_ of this place. His picture is in that damn lab that we came from, along with several other fucking scientists and descriptions of the monsters they have running around this hellhole. And all this time...".

Redfield lightly separated himself from Valentine as he kept talking, turning his full attention towards the antagonist who remained several feet ahead of him.

"ALL this fucking time, you've been pretending to be one of us, pretending to be our friend, our leader! YOU were going to get us out of here!", he became more agitated as he held the handle of the firearm with both palms, always pointing the weapon towards his enemy as he continued, "While you knew EXACTLY what was going on but kept going on as if this was all new to you too. But as far as I'm concerned, YOU'RE responsible for ALL our deaths so far, you prick! Joseph, Forest, Dewey, Kevin, Kenneth, and only God knows how many others, EVERYBODY who's dead is because of YOU! I swear, I'd kill you right _now_ if it didn't go against everything I believed in when I took that oath. No, you are going straight back to Raccoon City and you are going to ROT for what you've done for the rest of your life!".

"What? What are you guys saying?", Valentine's head turned from Redfield to Wesker, then to Chambers, then back to Redfield again, "This place is run by Umbrella. What do you mean you saw the captain's picture a few min...".

"His picture is in the _lab_, Jill!", Redfield interrupted her without taking his eyes off the silent STARS leader who was now standing back up, "Dressed in a goddamn lab coat, of all things. I guess that's _one_ place you forgot to remove your picture from, isn't it?".

"Granted your rage is not undeserved, Chris, but I would ask that you put it aside momentarily so as that I may shed some light on this matter as it were", the leader of both STARS teams stated once there was an opening to do so.

"Shut the hell up!", Redfield snapped back.

"Oh, jeez! You're kidding me", Valentine sighed to herself as she rubbed her eyes with her right hand before addressing agent Wesker, the female agent's loyalties immediately decided, "Spill it, _captain_, if that's what you really are".

"As justified as your indignation is, I would have to respectfully advise that you be wary with your firearm", the oldest person there replied in a calmer tone, still ignoring the headache in his cranium, "I had been prepared for this event to happen, though I was hoping that the surroundings were slightly more amicable or if it were not to take place at all. It _would_ be unfortunate if your itchy trigger finger were to cause an accident, agent Redfield. Twofold, not only would I be unable to let you in on whatever secrets are left to be shared, I'd be removed from this life _long_ before my purpose is fulfilled".

"Cut the philosophical bullshit and start talking!", the younger man barked, his hold on the Magnum shaking as he did.

"As you wish", the Alpha team captain moved in a deliberately slow fashion, bending at the knees until he retrieved the sunglasses off the floor, again suppressing the urge to retrieve his handgun, and then placed the shades back on his face as he stood up and addressed the three STARS members in front of him, Chambers having joined the others in a small group, "Firstly, contrary to your evidence, I _am_ an RPD captain. I started out as a member of the elite security squad for Umbrella, for a sum of years greater than that of Agent Chambers' age. Then I was sent under cover at the RPD because some of the city's fine citizenry were getting tetchy of our _supposedly_ legal operations. I've been an officer for as long as you've known me now, even if I began as such with only the intent of spying on my kin".

"Oh, this is great", Valentine countered, her attention fixed towards the high ceiling as she slapped her own leg with her bare hand in frustration, "So what _is_ this mansion, like, your _home_? All this time of supposedly being shocked at what you've been seeing and _supposedly_ wanting to get us out of here, just a pretence?".

"That's not a lie, none of it", Wesker shook his head, not finding it odd that his arms were resting by his sides even though he was supposed to be on the receiving end of an armed interrogation, "The federal government allegedly supplied Umbrella with a long term contract, a license, as well as a _very_ generous budget in exchange for our research.

The entire company is such a covert operation that only the country's president and the Chiefs of Staff know of our existence, at least the part of the company that's not merely working on a cure for the common cold. Our origin was based on the need that arose from international conflict. Whenever there's an agreement between countries to discontinue the use of certain kinds of biological weapons, all it means is that those countries are, of course, building up their supply in secret. Think of it. The side who always wins in the battlefield is the one with access to better weaponry, even after all sides supposedly agreed to not use that weaponry, since doing so is called too inhumane a fashion of killing. So no nation would ever truly do away with studying the development of a biological weapon that could be carried by one soldier into enemy territory and then take ten minutes to wipe out every human within a mile radius of the strike zone. Our job was to find antidotes to those viral attacks, all the while knowing that somewhere else, this country's developing those _same_ weapons to use in wartime against enemy nations".

The RPD captain paused for an instant, knowing that he had covered the simple part of his explanation, and wondering how he was going to convince these three individuals of the more complicated bits to his story, especially considering that he was still learning of them himself.

"But that was a lie", he finally sighed after a break, looking intently into Redfield's accusing glare and the more curious stare that the two female agents gave him,

"The company which I pledged my allegiance to has been deceiving me for two long decades now. Tricking me into dirtying my own hands by working on its behalf while it conducted biological weapons research on human beings and doing viral research for sale to the highest bidder, and their work also caused the catastrophe that's been plaguing the city for weeks now. Thus all the zombies you see here and the ones who've been spilling into the city itself".

"You expect us to believe this", Valentine casually crossed her arms in front of her chest, "That _you_, captain Wesker, was taken for a fool, considering you _always_ know what's going on".

"I realize I've held some very pertinent information from all of you", the older man replied, "But I _never_ had any malicious intentions towards you, not once. As soon as I found out that human experiments were taking place, I knew I had to take Umbrella down, but also that you'd never trust me if I told you the whole truth just now. Instead, I brought enough weapons and ammunition while flying over here so as to decimate this entire mansion and the labs within it, _only_ if Vickers hadn't flown off with the weaponry. Thus my contention that we'd have many more tools to use at our disposal if young officer Vickers comes back to us, Jill. Our pilot is carrying as much heavy artillery as the helicopter can manage, and he doesn't even know it. Besides the speciality weapons I had arranged to be delivered _illegally_ from my contacts with the military, there's an unassembled mini-gun with a thousand rounds of ammunition, _and_ five dozen incendiary hand grenades, all put on that helicopter for the purpose of helping us raze this place to the ground".

"OK, I'm not saying I believe you or anything, _captain_", the Alpha team machinist uncrossed her arms and kept the shotgun pointed towards the floor, "Even if I _do_ remember you saying that, you still haven't explained why you'd bring us into the middle of this goddamn meat grinder if you were truly on our side and wanted Umbrella destroyed".

"Even _I_ had no idea the infestation of monsters was this massive", the older continued, "This is why I wished to have STARS brought to Raccoon City, in _case_ there was an accident that needed to be dealt with. But once we landed in the forest, it became overly obvious how out of control the presence of these infected creatures was, even exceeding _my_ expectations, and I had believed myself to be ready for the worst".

The look on the faces of the three agents was indicating that they weren't being convinced by his arguments.

"You can do whatever you wish, you can even execute me if it'll suit you", he added, feeling physically tired for the second time tonight, "There's little I'll be able to do about it. But that won't change the fact that we're on the same side here. What I said before was all true. These monsters are a deadly threat to the city's population, and _we're_ the most qualified to destroy both them and their creators. After hiding behind the protection of the federal government, Umbrella now has its influences _everywhere_ in Raccoon City, with the police, the courts, the press, you name it. Irons was the one who sent the Bravo team here after being ordered to do so, for reasons that are _still_ unknown to me, and I had to physically assault him before he would even inform me of the exact location where the Bravo's helicopter was sent to. So I organized Alpha team to be brought here against the chief's orders, that's true. But it was _only_ to rescue Bravo team and to eliminate this threat to the city, nothing more".

"Uh... I know all this other stuff is kinda important but well, I have a question that I … Can I ask you a question?", agent Chambers spoke up for the first time, hearing her own voice shake momentarily as she was still standing behind Redfield and Valentine, but addressing the STARS captain.

When she didn't hear any protests from any of the three people there, she continued.

"Chris and I found these descriptions of several creatures in the lab", she recalled, "We already ran into most of them. But there are two others that we haven't seen yet. The chimera and the tyrant. Know anything about them?".

"No", Wesker shook his head, frustration getting the better of him yet again, an emotion that he was getting too familiar with as of tonight, "I didn't even know of the existence of most of these creatures, except for the dogs and hunters, who were necessary for testing, or so I was told. And only a handful of them were supposed to exist. I had _no_ idea so many were running about, both inside and outside the grounds. As for the other creatures, I'm finding out about them at the same time as you, I'm afraid".

"No, no, no!", Redfield shook his head as he reached into his uniform pocket after freeing his left hand from the handle of the firearm, always keeping the weapon pointed at his adversary, "See, all this bullshit he's coming out with may be credible, _if_ you were to suspend disbelief, I mean. But he's still lying, Jill. Look, Becca found these near the projector in the lab. She showed me while we were coming over here to find you two".

The young man withdrew a palm-sized photograph that wasn't unlike the large image on the projection screen, of a line of men in white laboratory coats, and the one at the farthest right was Albert Wesker himself, and handed the picture to officer Valentine for inspection.

"A scientist? You?", the older of the two women asked after having a quick look at the photograph, "And you didn't know of the kinds of experiments that were taking place alongside you?".

"I was involved with research, however, that occurred when I was 16 years old", Wesker remembered, "That picture is undoubtedly older than agent Chambers, taken _many_ years before my transfer".

"You don't look 16 there!", Redfield snapped back, "You're as old as you are now!".

"The date behind the picture is from last year!", Valentine countered, sounding indignant for the first time after having turned the photograph around and then back again.

"What? Impossible", Wesker shook his head in denial.

"Unless she's lying or so retarded that she can't read simple numbers, which she's not", Redfield replied on her behalf, recalling that he hadn't thought to look for a date behind the photo himself, "Or maybe you're the same lying son of a bitch who's been leading us in circles for ages now".

"Then it must've been doctored", the captain felt as puzzled over the new mystery as he sounded, "I do not have another explanation, Chris. If Umbrella's been engineering a Machiavellian ruse with my mind for all these years, there is nothing I would put below them, not even doctoring evidence to blame people who they _knew_ they could not trust".

"Sure, and I _look_ like I was born yesterday", Redfield angrily responded, "You think that's more believable than fucking Umbrella picking you up from this shithole after we're all dead because you've tested your monsters on us?".

"Who from Umbrella, Chris!", Wesker's exasperation was evident as his voice became more weary, "This is a disaster for the board of directors, so much so that I'm sure everyone who was involved with the company is desperately trying to ensure their own existence. No one is going to care about the whereabouts of one missing agent. I'm not part of Umbrella any more, I'm only a part of STARS, here on a search and destroy mission to eradicate my former employer and rescue my new colleagues".

"Nice words, Wesker", the marksman sighed as he approached the older man while withdrawing a pair of handcuffs, "Too bad the evidence all points against you. Now, you can either come quietly and serve the rest of your sorry life in prison once we get out of here, or you can do me a favor and resist arrest so I can put you out of my misery with a bullet to your head. What's your choice?".

"Hold on, Chris, please", Valentine interjected by placing her free hand on Redfield's forearm, thus stopping the young man's forward progress, "No one's going to execute anyone here, OK?".

"You guys can't _possibly_ be buying his idiotic story!", the Alpha agent countered, always careful to never take his eyes off the spot where Wesker stood, "Just look at the damn picture, Jill. Even now, he's lying through his teeth. He was only a scientist decades ago indeed"..

"Look, I don't know _what_ to believe", the female officer from Alpha team replied, "But your theory that he's here to watch us die is as crazy as his story of being a double agent and being on our side now. I mean, jeez, we'd _both_ have been torn to ribbons in the forest right now if it hadn't been for him".

Valentine looked at Redfield first, then switched her gaze to Wesker, sighing at the decision she was being forced to make as both men's attention were on her, a look of concern and a desire to do what's right for everyone who was involved weighing heavily on her features.

"I think you can appreciate the sensitive situation you're putting us _all_ in when you say that...", the older of the two women began addressing their captain before a loud, primal scream interrupted her from behind their position.

As agents Redfield, Valentine and Chambers either looked over their shoulders or turned around to face whatever was behind them, all four members of STARS spotted a group of approximately a dozen hunters who rushed through the gate that Redfield and Chambers had used a few minutes ago. The large, hunched-over monsters dashed past the opened metal entryway and bolted straight towards their human targets.

Captain Wesker heard officer Redfield screaming something incoherent as the entire scene played out in slow motion in front of his eyes. He was paying no attention to what was said as he saw the marksman grabbing Rebecca Chambers by the shoulder and pulling the 18-year old medic behind him, thus placing himself between the youngest member of STARS and the wave of juggernauts who were quickly approaching. Simultaneously, Valentine yelled something on her own while she opened fire with the shotgun, striking the nearest hunter in the abdomen and forcing that creature to drop on its hands and knees, before it quickly disappeared beneath the feet of its followers. As all that occurred, amid the chorus of three screaming agents and the sounds of a Magnum and a shotgun, the man in the shades dove for his Desert Eagle, with the intent of then placing himself between his officers and the line of green-skinned beasts. The hope was that, much like the ally he had fought side by side with a short while ago, these monsters would obey his command to cease their attack. But failing that, he had eight fresh rounds in his Desert Eagle to rely upon.

A distant part of Wesker's mind pointed out that his protection of the three members of his unit was probably the best way to erase all doubt in their minds that he was on their side, and could thus count on their help to hunt down and destroy Umbrella later. But that was for a future date, after he ensured that all three of those individuals left this scenario alive.

As soon as he turned his attention towards the violent confrontation that was several feet away from him, though, captain Wesker's forehead screamed out in pain, this time the headache being several times worse than what he'd been experiencing lately. His head shook uncontrollably, even as he kept trying to march towards his three colleagues, still watching their defence against the onslaught of infected adversaries. Keeping the Desert Eagle in his right hand, the STARS leader clutched at his hair with his left fingers, looking down at the floor and screaming out in blinding pain whose source he didn't understand. It only lasted for a few seconds, and by the time the yell was over, the pain disappeared completely, and Wesker stood back upright, a smile adorning his lips as he viewed the desperate attempts for survival by all three STARS officers.

But this time, the oldest person there simply turned around and walked away, leaving the deadly standoff behind him as he had more urgent matters to attend to. As he was making his way in the opposite direction of the hallway, a stray hunter appeared in front of him, but Wesker merely shoved the creature aside since it annoyed him. As the green behemoth left the STARS captain alone and rushed past him in its efforts to reach the other three humans, the smirk on Wesker's face widened since his plan was working out exactly as he predicted it would.

"I _do_ believe, ladies and gentlemen, that you're going to be earning some extra combat pay tonight", he mused as he strolled further away, the sound of the gunfire becoming less clear behind him with every step he took.


	37. Chapter 28b Mental Picture

_AN:_ Thanks to JC for being himself, enRAGEd whose got a story up that you guys should all check out, deathbyhugs cause is always swell to have new people aboard, lioness for the long hours of tag, Corpastie for the huuuuge review, Todd S/ Jimbo/Ken H.for being my guys, Johnny Tigershaw cause am so pleased you are still reading. As always you guys are the king! Thanks to everyone else who is still reading even if you are heathen masses for not leaving me reviews but I love you guys anyways.

And Happy Birthday Kes!

* * *

There was only a solitary location for the rogue RPD captain to head towards once he could no longer hear the sounds of screams, gunfire and general carnage behind him. That was one of two attainable localities within the entire mansion and its surroundings where he could follow his masses' performance with no interruptions. It had to be the less grandiose of the two observing stations, as the preferred local, which was near where his precious subjects were held in cryogenic suspension, was simply too far afield at the moment. And while the former, less significant observation deck was less advanced and wasn't able to inspect every square inch of the environment, it did cover the most paramount locations within what Wesker considered to be his port of operations for the last two decades.

So settling down into the only compact chair inside the small room, he paid keen attention to the only black and white, silent screen that currently had activity within it, the other monitors showing only empty corridors or chambers.

Inside the silent screen that fixed his interest, the man behind the shades watched as officers Redfield and Valentine had cordoned off the hallway, both of them standing purposefully in front of agent Chambers, exactly like two parents may conceivably act when protecting a child against the onslaught of monsters. And in a show of intelligence that proved the pair were using their experience as well as subjective loyalty to each other, Valentine was currently keeping the hunters at bay via the use of her shotgun, while Redfield remained next to her as he reloaded his Magnum revolver.

An abstracted part of Wesker's mind asked which one of the three individuals had discovered the firearm that had been specially hidden mid the graveyard, coupled with several extra rounds, but regardless, the scene in front of him was invigorating and educational at the same time. So the Umbrella scientist felt glad that the technology within the mansion automatically recorded every scene spotted by the cameras that were operating by motion sensors. But for now, the RPD captain paid attention to the performance of his creatures as well as that of his STARS agents, knowing that the luxury he currently enjoyed would not last long. So bequeathing his very precious attention to the events in the screen, he saw that Valentine ran out of ammunition after killing the first five beasts who had charged at the group, thus taking one step backwards and allowing Redfield to start shooting the closest attacking behemoths, while the pair remained between the hunters and the fearful agent Chambers the entire time.

It was after Redfield had fired twice that the medic looked behind her and seemed to scream out, though Wesker obviously was deprived of hearing what she yelled. But he quickly realized what the youngster was agitated about, because the alpha team captain saw the hunter that he had shoved aside while leaving the spot of the confrontation as that monster was rushing towards the trio of humans from behind them, thus Redfield and Valentine never saw it coming. Turning her gaze in the direction that Chambers was indicating, Valentine gasped in her turn as she saw the creature bolting for them, especially when the older woman wasn't finished reloading her shotgun yet, and Redfield was still busy with his back turned to the two of them.

But just as Wesker expected to see that group of three being made smaller, he witnessed agent Chambers lifting up an item that he hadn't spotted in her hand before. The Bravo medic eagerly tossed the object into the hunter's face, who instinctively held on to the item with its left fingers before biting it. It was the last action the creature took before its head exploded and it dropped dead on the floor, the police captain noticing that Chambers had coated her home-made explosive with a substance that the monster would be tempted to eat.

Sitting back with a tight-lipped smirk on his face, Wesker thought internally that it was typical of STARS training and resourcefulness to survive even such encounters. They were the best, after all, and nothing less than them was worthy of serving as combat data for his creatures. But regardless, he had to grant that he was dissatisfied with the outcome, as it now appeared that none of those three agents were disuniting as a result of the hunters' offensive. Wesker would have found it more agreeable if at least one of their little tryst had been forced to divert from the other two while they escaped his hunters' assault, if only because keeping the team together meant they would all die when they were overwhelmed at a future time. And the scientist would've preferred to not be laden with only agents Aitken and Burton just yet.

As he kept watching intently, he saw Valentine gripping Chambers' hand and leading the medic away from the scene after she tapped Redfield on the shoulder to follow them. The machine expert led the puerile woman towards the opposite side of the hallway, eager to use the shotgun on any creatures that appeared from that proclivity just as the sole hunter had done a short time ago. As the marksman emptied the last ammunition within his Magnum revolver and incapacitated the nearest hunter to them, thus increasing the number of monster carcasses on the floor, he quickly walked backwards. The trio's path led them away from the current camera which was scrutinizing their progress, but soon into the sight of another one, thus they appeared on another television screen. Superseding the two women, Redfield came upon them as Valentine was busy testing the steel door to the room where Wesker's hated other half had discovered the hanging bodies a few minutes ago. Finding the door to be unlocked, Valentine bolted inside, looking over her shoulder as she waited for Chambers and Redfield to be right behind her. But Wesker was adjusted with plans of his own, and as the medic was about to go into the room also, with the marksman close behind her, he casually pressed a single, specific button which was among dozens of its kind near him.

In response to his action, the door to the room where agent Valentine had expected her colleagues to follow her was closed shut via remote access, thus dividing Valentine from the other two members of the team.

The surprise on both Chambers' and Redfield's facial expressions was obvious, even if whatever expletive the marksman used remained unheard. The medic only had one, desperate chance to test the door in an effort to open it, and when it remained locked as intended, an irate officer Redfield shoved her past that area since more hunters were only yards away from reaching them.

Feeling satisfied that he got plenty of useful data and managed to divide the STARS group at the same time, Wesker turned his attention away from the screens and reached for his government-issue radio.

"Barry, I require your attention", he spoke into the piece of machinery once the static cleared.

"Yeah, I'm here. What is it, Wesker?", Burton's annoyed voice sighed from the other end.

"I necessitate you to carry out a new assignment for me", Wesker replied, "And unlike your last undertaking for me, I _do_ hope you will not be such a disappointment this time".

"What do you want done _this_ time?" the weapons expert questioned, sounding as agitated as he undoubtedly felt.

"Pay close attention, as my time's short", the captain went on, "And I simply do not have time to repeat myself before I let my better half take over for a short intermission".

"Your better half? Who're you talking ab...", Burton started asking.

"Here's your task, Barry", Wesker interrupted, "And _do_ stop asking so many questions which are irrelevant to what's required of you".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Agent Burton moved quickly through the grisly pile of dead hunters as he heard the repeated screams followed by the blunt noises that emanated from the other side of the door. It sounded like whoever could be found on the other side was repeatedly trying to kick through the unyielding door, and with no success, which wasn't a surprise, considering how strong the metal doorway was designed to be. With the trusty Colt Python remaining in his left grip, and wishing that the piece of weaponry wasn't the only aspect he could count on, either because of his superior's treachery or because of his own betrayal of his friends, the red-haired man swiftly opened the steel entryway. As he'd been predicted by Wesker, the door turned out to be unlocked from his end, and agent Valentine sighed with a mixture of relief and anxiety as she stepped through the opening.

"Jeez, thanks, Barry", the young woman sighed again as she retained a death grip on her shotgun, almost as one would hold on to a life preserver in the middle of the ocean, which to be fair, Burton thought was applicable in this mansion.

After all, anyone who ended up being unarmed in the middle of the proverbial hornet's nest may have died as easily as a non-swimmer in deep water. So it was good that the young woman apparently still had a reliable weapon at her disposal, at least when it came to the threats she could see. Regardless, Burton remembered his orders, which started with him having to keep his knowledge about Wesker's double-dealing to himself, as always.

"I was getting _seriously_ pissed off at banging my foot against that damn thing", Valentine rested the weapon against her own shoulder, so the barrel pointed towards the ceiling behind her, "Like a twisted ankle isn't bad enough! Another minute of this and I was ready to open fire and take my chances against the lock, reinforced or not".

"I'm glad I was able to help you then, Jill", Burton gave his most sincere fake smile, "Better save that ammo for the creatures anyway".

"Are Chris and Rebecca here?", the machine expert then spun her head around, quickly remembering that she shouldn't be so relaxed as she brought the shotgun back to a ready position in front of her.

She was disappointed to not see either officer there, the only sight greeting her being agent Burton and over a dozen carcasses who had tried to attack them a short time ago. Thankfully, there were no human remains anywhere she could see, which probably meant that Redfield and Chambers had vacated the premises after she had gotten mysteriously locked in the room behind her, and whatever hunters remained alive must've chased after the pair.

"Uh, no. I didn't see _any_ of them", the older man admitted, "I was just walking through this area and trying to clear my head when I started hearing gunfire. By the time I ran here to investigate, there was only you. Whatever happened here anyway, Jill?".

"Well... It's weird", Valentine began to explain, realizing that she would have a problem retelling the occurrences, especially since she didn't understand how she became trapped in the room and separated from her two partners in the first place, "I mean, it's a long story, OK? Look, how about _you_, Barry? If anything, it's _you_ that I'm more concerned about now. You've been acting strange for a while now, and you _started_ talking to me before that strange bitch-monster showed up that we pushed over the edge. But I wish you had stayed with me instead of running off like that. Just _what's_ going on with you that's bothering you so much?".

"To be honest, that's what I was thinking over", Burton explained, clearly embarrassed about the issue, "Look, I'll explain all that's going on now, Jill, but it'll be easier if I _show_ you what I'm talking about instead of just telling you. Why don't you come with me? It'll be a relief to finally be able to show this to you. And maybe we'll find Chris along the way, too".

"OK, sounds good to me", Valentine glanced over the remains of the hunters on the floor, tracing the path that Burton had taken to reach her position through the pool of blood on the floor, and also making sure that none of those creatures were still alive to spring back to their feet.

None were, so the younger agent regained a relaxed stance as she casually followed officer Burton's lead, wondering what was so important that it was better to be shown than told.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Captain Wesker suspiciously gazed around his environment for the tenth time during the last minute as he progressed through the dark, haze-filled corridor, trying hard to not be distracted by the sight of the smoke that loudly hissed at him from vents near the ceiling. As if the shadows that could be found everywhere weren't a strong enough possible hiding place for any biological weapon, the loud fog was being constantly fired down in his direction from those upper vents worsened the already poor visibility there. So all in all, the RPD officer was glad that he hadn't lost the grip on his Desert Eagle during the last confrontation when the four humans seemed like they were about to be over-run by hunters. On top of that, he was also happy to know that his experience and control over the weapon was so advanced that he could feel safe in targeting enemies while avoiding friends or innocent bystanders, should any of those three types of creatures surprise him from the darkness or the shadows.

But as odd as it sounded, the current surroundings weren't Wesker's biggest dilemma. Instead, the man in the shades simply couldn't recall what happened once he spotted the small army of hunters who were rushing towards him and his STARS subordinates. The last image in his mind was of him diving to retrieve the Desert Eagle as he heard at least one male voice followed by a female one, and instead of the battle he had expected to follow, the next conscious thought in his brain involved him being in this new area. He had absolutely no idea how he came to be here, nor of the fate that had occurred to agents Chambers, Valentine, or even officer Redfield, since Wesker was worried about all three individuals, even the young man who had so dearly wished to kill him where he stood a short time ago.

After all, he couldn't have blamed Redfield for hating him, not when the marksman had believed that he was still in league with Umbrella. And Wesker thought that it was too bad that he hadn't been able to convince the younger officer of his loyalty to STARS, though the image of himself as a scientist was yet another piece of mystery that the RPD found himself to be pondering about just now. Why had that fake picture been made and left within the lab? Had Claymont anticipated his treachery against Umbrella after he had discovered those human bite marks on the remains of that family? If so, then the White Umbrella vice-president could've engineered exactly such an event in a last ditch effort to create mistrust between him and his followers when Wesker had arrived to raze the Umbrella infrastructure down to the ground.

Of course Claymont had done such a thing, Wesker told himself in a quiet tone, almost feeling ashamed at the fact that it had taken him so long to reason out the vice-president's intentions. His feelings towards his original employer must have been very obvious after he tried to call Claymont on his cell-phone immediately after finding evidence of human experimentation. And he was sure that the receptionist who had spoken to him then informed the Umbrella higher ups of his fury at being told that no one was there to be addressed directly. After suspecting that he was ready to switch sides and may be coming after them personally, those Umbrella board members were already trying to cover their tracks while being relocated, and if they could create doubt in the minds of anyone that Wesker tried to convince of Umbrella's crimes against humanity, then surely they would. And their ploy had almost worked, too. Who knows what might've happened if Redfield had decided to open fire from a distance, preferring to kill him on the spot rather than interrogating him after seeing the picture and then listening to agent Valentine's consultation afterwards?

Regardless, captain Wesker intentionally placed the thought at the back of his mind for now, realizing he had bigger concerns. The first was that he had lost contact with his colleagues from STARS, again, and just like before, he couldn't remember how. That repeated fact was beginning to seriously annoy him. In addition, he was now inside some unknown, dark, smoke-filled hallway, and he was walking towards the metal door that was at the end of this corridor, all without knowing why. This place felt so familiar to him, as if he had spent countless days and nights around here, but he could not remember ever seeing it before in his life. So why the feeling of familiarity with an area that he had never seen before?

And worst of all, the head of both STARS teams could feel his own mouth moving and forming coherent words of their own accord, even though he wasn't the one who was speaking them. Instead, his own voice was coaxing him to keep moving ahead, until he had passed the metal doorway which almost seemed like it was patiently waiting for him to cross it and enter whatever horror Wesker was sure it contained on its other side.

He had seen more monsters during his 20-year long career with Umbrella Security than he could count, and every single creature was killed or incapacitated after confronting him. Once he had been sent to the RPD, he had gone up against dangerous criminals who had ruthlessly tried to take his life, and he had beaten down or intentionally murdered every one of them too. As a result, Wesker had never been one to be afraid of whatever challenge or enemy was thrown at him.

So why was he feeling the closest he had come to experiencing fear now that he was slowly approaching this door? He had undergone extreme frustration for the first time that he could remember earlier tonight when he saw miss Warren's ghost for the first time and then the distressed teenager had disappeared. That emotion was bad enough, but even that was much easier to deal with than the fear that was beginning to overwhelm his sense at the present time, leading to a faster heartbeat and less concentration on his surroundings.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Wesker tried to tell himself that there was nothing to be afraid of, that whatever monster or obstacle may have been waiting on the other side of that forbidden entryway could be overcome by use of his wits, fighting prowess and ultimately, his firearm. Unfortunately for him, however, this was one time when his confidence didn't remain as steady as he always remembered it to be. And why was his mouth creating words in his voice that were not his? While the voice continued sounding like his, the tone was not. His voice had never particularly been warm or friendly, but it certainly wasn't the vicious snarl that was currently emanating from his own lips.

Once he was just within an arm's reach of the metal surface, the STARS leader stopped moving, wishing he could turn around and leave this place forever, and wanting to avoid going through the door the same way that someone who suffers from arachnophobia would wish to avoid entering a room full of spiders. He almost hoped that the chamber on the other side was full of dozens of large, aggressive, virus-infected creatures. At least then he'd know how to deal with them. But regardless of how dearly he wished to be elsewhere, and in the company of his fellow STARS members, he knew that he couldn't leave, not when he was this close to what he knew was the answer to all the questions that were plaguing him all night long.

So trying desperately to ignore the ever-louder beating of his heart, and noting that fear was definitely a variable he could spend the rest of his life doing without, captain Albert Wesker walked forward.

A metal barrier lifted upwards with a smooth, mechanical movement, allowing the tense man to step past it and into the darkness ahead.

The sight that greeted him on the other side of the door was one that didn't immediately register to his eyes, which was unusual by itself, considering that it was quick identification and response to situations that continued his survivals while working for Umbrella or the RPD. Instead, Wesker's mouth started to flap open and shut of its own accord, gasping unintelligibly, while his eyes widened in shock from behind the sunglasses. He felt as though he was suddenly being strangled, though no external force was restraining his ability to breathe.

That's because several yards into the room that lay on the other side of the now-closed metal door were two clusters of clear cryogenic tubes, each of which remained standing in a vertical position. Every one of those containers was filled with a liquid substance, probably used to maintain the single creature that was kept in stasis inside of it. Most of them were full, holding what appeared to be a non-human organism within, but one of the tubes which was in the row closest to where the STARS captain stood contained either the unconscious body or the remains of miss Shakahnna Warren herself.

For what it was worth, a detached part of Wesker's mind could spot air bubbles reaching the surface of the liquid that was inside the container, so that should've informed him that the teenager was still alive. But such thoughts weren't going through the officer's mind at the current time because he was still too busy feeling shocked at the sight before him, in addition to the headache that was forming in his less than stable consciousness. He involuntarily recalled a mental picture that had been buried in his memories for the last two decades, without him even knowing that it was there, as he saw himself standing within a science lab, much like the one here. Wesker recalled being in the company of doctor William Birkin and director general Marcus, and that had been the first time he saw a living human being who was strapped down to a gurney. He had stared into the face of that unfortunate man, who was missing a leg, as it was hacked off at the knee, leaving an angry stump, a hand which had not quite been severed and missing an eye. A black hole was staring back where the eye had once been as the victim was then injected with the Progenitor virus for the purposes of deducing its regenerative qualities. Wesker had seen that the person wasn't sedated, a trail of blood running down his face and then dripping down the gurney as well as the floor. Even though the victim had no coherency, the single eye socket that had been glazed over was still staring back into the 18-year old Wesker's face, prompting the young doctor to believe that he was being accused of initiating the crime against humanity which he was witnessing for the first time.

Of course, director general Marcus had believed that both doctors Birkin and Wesker were ready to see the uglier side of Umbrella that day, and Birkin had actually suspected that it was what he had been taken on tour to be shown, but Wesker had clearly not. The monstrous acts that Marcus was responsible for had prompted young doctor Wesker to turn his gaze towards the much older man, his mind still racing to come up with the appropriate words to express the shock and outrage he felt at this time, and his intention being that of wishing to evacuate out of this place and report what he had seen to the appropriate authorities. In fact, Wesker had found himself wishing that he was a police officer right then and there, as that would've given him the power to arrest his supervisor for initiating that human experiment and his colleague for not reacting with the same righteous indignation that he was.

But none of that happened, as doctor Wesker's mind had succumbed to the reality of what he had seen, and was soon overcome with his sadistic alter ego, as his second consciousness was born at that time. In fact, the second personality had turned to Marcus and Birkin and then continued discussing the details of the experiment before them, with the same casual manner that an ordinary person may discuss the weather or the news. The original Wesker had felt too dissatisfied with his field and had opted to move on towards a job at Umbrella Security soon thereafter, never remembering the real reason why he felt uncomfortable around the scientific branch of his employer's infrastructure.

It hadn't taken either Marcus or Birkin very long to understand what had happened, but both individuals were happy to let sleeping dogs lie, preferring to not risk upsetting the original Wesker's ignorant stay in Umbrella. That was just so they could keep working with the second Wesker, whose scientific knowledge and ruthlessness to carry out whatever experiments were necessary made him one of Umbrella's most treasured assets.

Regardless, all those thoughts and memories raced through captain Wesker's mind within an instant as he continued staring at Shakahnna Warren's still figure.

The recollections he briefly experienced may have led him to remember what truly happened to him twenty years ago, if not for the current assault of pain in his forehead which threatened to drown out even the surprise and outrage he felt now.

It wasn't long before the leaders of STARS felt his second personality within the chamber, this time much stronger than when he was watching agent Valentine sleep earlier tonight. He wished so dearly to not feel that ulterior presence, wanting instead to keep investigating what had happened to the redhead that he was searching for all night long. So Wesker tried to ignore the ever-worsening ache in his skull and attempted to pay attention to the teenager who seemed to wear a sad expression on her face as she continued floating within the tube. Physically, the young woman appeared pale, as the older man lowered the Desert Eagle barrel towards the floor and reached for her with his outstretched free hand while trying to approach the cylinder.

The teenager's name was the last word he heard himself uttering before the pain he was experiencing became even worse, reaching the point of intolerability and forcing Wesker to stop his forward progress. It drove the police captain down on one knee as he struggled against the torture in his head, but ultimately failed.

Albert Wesker stood back up, easily brushed off the bit of dust that had gotten on his uniform while his previous self had been dragged down to one knee, and smiled demurely at the joy of being back in his home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"As always, there is a distinctly more pleasurable quality to be in surroundings that are one's own", Albert Wesker mused as he stared at the row of cryogenic tubes that were a few feet away from him.

The closest cylinder to his bearing restricted the teenaged redhead who was the objective of the search conducted by the plebeian for the last several hours. The Umbrella scientist's hated opponent had been so busy running around in circles while trying to contrive clues regarding Warren's whereabouts. So Wesker snickered over the irony that the RPD officer had cracked under pressure as soon as he was led down to this chamber, just as the Umbrella employee was assured the captain would, which is why he had led the STARS leader down here in the first place.

Of course, now that he was here, and his dormant personality was thankfully just that - dormant, the researcher had to carefully implement the next phase of his complicated plan. But he had every confidence that his desires would be fulfilled. After all, things had gone either as expected, or in some cases even better than expected, so far. So there was no evidence to suggest that his carefully-laid master plan to evade Umbrella, get his hands on the ultimate bio-organic weaponry, and finally to rid himself of his other half would not come to fruition.

"Umbrella _is_ reaching a point of desperation", he continued talking into his Dictaphone, "That factor expounds why those panjandrums in the upper echelon wish to get their pristine hands on all data regarding the virus. The amount of impatience they've thus far shown leads me to believe that the infernal machine is ticking away and under-handed methods are sure to make an appearance. In view of their ineptitude dealing with this premeditated and monitored spill, one has to speculate what would be the end result if an operative was killed during their retrieval and such a virus was spilled uncontrollably and by accident".

He stopped briefly, looking over Shakahnna Warren's figure as the teenager remained floating in the tube.

"But I digress. This isn't the time to be discussing such hypothetical musings", he continued, "Concurrently, all that necessitates to be cited is that progression towards the destruction of all mention of my female tyrantwho's before me now. Once my employers believe me to expired, they are less likely to come after this particular diamond in the rough. They had never accepted my hypothesis of her abilities, so the odds of them assuming that she died here with me are nearly perfect. By the time her DNA is the forefront of my research, no other scientist who was privy to the result will be alive".

He paused for another moment, stopping the Dictaphone so as to save its recording time as he looked back towards the row of cylinders that were preceding him. He knew the aggregate of information about each creature that were held within them, and it was unfortunate that most of those beings wouldn't be making the trip to HCF with him, as he remembered working tirelessly while conducting various trials on every one. But regardless of how he felt about his past work, he knew that leaving these creatures behind, and thus forgetting about the advancement of research they could've brought, was a necessary evil. After all, no matter how many of the stasis tubes he looked at, his gaze always returned to his two prized specimens, those being the giant, asexual tyrant and the smaller one which resembled a human teenager. With these two beings transported to HCF to accompany him to his new facility there, Wesker knew that there would be enough work, potential knowledge and power to keep him busy for many years to come. So when all was said and done, leaving the other creatures behind was a small price that Wesker was more than willing to pay.

"It is bad form to spend _all_ of one's time going on about one's prized pupils", he continued speaking after restarting the Dictaphone, "Among the many things learned this evening was that Sarton's hypothesis was surprisingly accurate. The V-acts appear at least to be created when the T-virus is transmitted through blood or saliva, which in turns gives them the ability to regenerate even after all motor functions are disabled. But if the same virus was caught while it was airborne, it does not provide the ability to mutate the carrier into a V-act. That's a factor worth noting for future references".

A pause to breathe in and out.

"My STARS' progression is satisfactory", he added, leisurely pacing the floor of his lab back and forth, enjoying his last night here, "The majority of the strategically placed weaponry that was distributed have already been found, and my agents have put them to good use. Even though most of the infected inhabitants of this compound _have_ been dealt with and are no longer active, mainly due to the actions of Chris Redfield and my good friend, the data gained from their demise is valuable indeed".

It was then that Wesker shut the Dictaphone off, putting the machine down next to one of the computer monitors before resuming his admiration of the female tyrant specimen that floated before him.

"And that concludes my notes for this segment of the game. Undeniably you would be rapt to know if you only could hear me", he addressed the redhead while he was standing still and with his hands casually resting by the sides of his blue STARS uniform. Knowing that his subject would be eager to hear all that he had to say, Shakahnna was no doubt as obsessed with these assessments as Wesker was himself.

"A Machiavellian plan of this scale is simply too good to be kept to one's self", he continued talking to the teenager in the tube even though it was obvious she wouldn't be able to hear or respond, so he walked up to the cryogenic cylinder and leaned against it, "It would be awfully conceited to explain it to the subjects right before they were sent to their creator, but since you _are_ such a captive audience, perhaps I may enthral you with my acumen".

He looked up into her face, almost as if he had expected her to wake up, which she was not capable of doing.

"It is so regrettable, miss Warren, that you struggled and refused to co-operate", he reproached her, "If you had obliged me instead of fighting me at every opportunity you had, you would have been mistress of this manner. It would be most unwise to maltreat my most valuable prize, so I still cannot fathom what motivations you may have had to make this difficult for yourself. It is, of course, only _you_ who will suffer the repercussions of your actions, as I _will_ get the legacy that I planned. A cosy settlement, don't you think? With your extraordinary biology and with time, you will do what is best. Sooner or later you will understand what is to be gained here. The legions of tyrants will be one for the history books indeed. Although I have doubt it will be recorded for the benefit of future generations".

The Umbrella scientist turned and walked away from the water filled prison that he had been addressing so far, but continued talking as he did.

"I merely have to remain until I get all that I require, at this point", he proudly boasted, "There hasn't been a single variable that did not go exactly to plan, starting with the dysfunctional radios that I planted within the Alpha and Bravo teams. As expected, that kept them isolated from each other, all except for Barry, of course, though I can assure you it would have been his preferable option".

He chuckled at the last statement as he stopped and looked towards Shakahnna Warren's tube one more time.

"Magnificent, don't you think?", his leer widened, "Well, perhaps not at this moment in time, I cannot imagine that it is an agreeable environment but that fate is one you choose for yourself and thus why you are in stasis now, when you could have been awake and enjoying your existence, miss Warren. But as stated previously, the fact that you resisted is no one's fault but your own. I had no qualms about being generous towards you, especially if you had facilitated every request I made. But you are not the only one who insists on going against my wishes, now are you?".

With that, Wesker turned his attention back to the computer monitor that was on the other side of the chamber.

For the first time in a while, he felt himself gritting his teeth in anger.

"There is little point in dwelling on those events that did not transpire as I wished", he tried to calm himself down, with some success, "Even though the tests that we have undertaken together were very limited, I should convey a degree of gratitude in your favour after all. It would have taken a lot more energy to cow him into submission if you hadn't forced him down merely by your presence in this laboratory.Although he has caused me a degree of consternation, since it's most audacious of him to remove one of _my_ pets. Rest assured, my dear, he'll be paying the penalty for his years of insubordination soon enough, so there's no need for me to wallow about that issue".

He had to admit that thinking about his plans for the next hour, which involved the remaining members of both STARS teams, and especially his other, most hated personality, was enough to bring a genuine smile to his face.


	38. Chapter 29 Final Puzzle Piece

The first sight that greeted agent Redfield's eyes was the dimness of the new environment that he and his younger partner reached after traversing two floors down from their previous position. The shadowy chamber was larger than most of the rooms in this place, and contained dozens of cylinders, each of them full of nonhuman creatures who appeared to have drowned within it. Those grizzly sights were enough to put the young marksman on edge, even to the point where he momentarily stopped paying attention to see if officer Chambers was staying close to him. But the Alpha agent soon spotted a lone figure. This new person seemed to take no heed of their arrival, constantly having his back to the pair. So even if he did not like it, the officer decided to do his best to ignore every other item in this area. It didn't take long for Redfield to quickly jog in that third individual's direction, all the while keeping the Magnum revolver in his right hand.

Unknown to him, the STARS medic remained only a few steps behind, having kept her eyes on her older partner and opting to dash after him once he bolted towards the unknown person. Keeping both her hands tightly wrapped around the handle of the Beretta, whitening her knuckles and keeping the weapon pointed towards the floor despite the tension in her arms, the young woman didn't ask what Redfield's intentions were, as the solitary factor she cared about was keeping by his side.

It was only a few seconds later that the pair reached their desired destination, and stopped their sprint as it became apparent that the third person there was none other than their commanding officer, captain Albert Wesker.

"Wesker?", Redfield spoke up first, addressing his superior from behind since the STARS leader still didn't turn around, seemingly too busy while typing at a keyboard that was resting on a desk in front of him, "How did you wind up _here_ after those creatures attacked?".

The marksman's face quickly fell into a pool of indignation.

"You fucking coward. You ran off and just left us because you were trying to save your own neck! _You_ made me lose Jill. We don't even know where she is as a result, or even if she's alive!".

As he finished speaking, the marksman casually rested his arms by his sides, pointing the Magnum towards the floor.

"I think you misunderstand me, Chris", Wesker replied in a more relaxed tone of voice, still without turning around to face his subordinates, "Everything is going exactly according to plan".

"Plan?", Chambers stated out loud, "What... What plan?".

The RPD captain remained soundless as he spun around, moving almost too fast to be seen with the naked eye, before aiming his Desert Eagle parallel to the floor with his right arm, pointing the weapon into Redfield's surprised face. In an instinctive reaction to the move, the marksman used his free left arm to pull agent Chambers behind himself, ignoring her yelp as she verbally responded to the new threat.

"Even if you made it thus far, you're not so smart after all, are you, Christopher Redfield?", the older man in the shades mentioned in a condescending fashion, "It's somewhat disappointing that the person with the most intelligence in either team, transpired to be was my dear old friend. Unfortunately, if you're expecting your Bravo captain to rush in here with a rescue, I'm afraid you'll find Marini to be a grave man. That specific thorn in my side has been taken care of"

"_What?_", Redfield appeared as surprised as he sounded, calculating his chances of being able to raise the Magnum that was pointed towards the floor without getting shot, and chastising himself for letting down his guard while around his suspicious supervisor.

"You killed Enrico!", Chambers growled, trying to move past Redfield's personal shield, but being restrained by the marksman's left arm, who partially returned her to a position behind his back.

"MONSTER!", she screamed from behind her taller partner despite his left hand that still gripped her arm, looking past Redfield's shoulder and scowling at the man in the sunglasses.

"Yes, dear, like this", Wesker replied in a calmer fashion, obviously unstirred by her temper.

The STARS captain shifted the direction of the Desert Eagle, hastily pointing it towards Chambers' head with his intention to decapitate her where she stood. There was one small problem with the Umbrella employee's plan. There was Shakahnna Warren as the teenager stood, resolutely vengeful, several feet behind Rebecca Chambers. From the look of it, it didn't appear that Warren was visible to either agents Redfield or Chambers, as the teenager's hair was made out of lava burning hotter than the fires of hell, matched only by her eyes, which consisted of scornful green emeralds with no sign of the iris or retina, and large wings were curved near her upper back. Warren angrily glared at him before lifting her left arm and pointing at Wesker in an accusing fashion with her index finger.

The distraction was enough to cause the momentarily-surprised STARS captain to miss his intended target, and Wesker ended up pulling the trigger and striking Chambers in the torso that was visible behind Redfield's frame, rather than shooting her in the face as he intended. The force of the bullet caused the medic to scream as she was hurled backwards before she landed hard on her side and didn't move after coming to a stop on the floor. Her crumpled form landed near a table that was covered with machinery, about five yards behind the marksman. The Beretta pistol flew out of her hand and in the direction of the vertical cylinders as Redfield turned his face towards where his colleague crashed on the hard floor, screaming out her first name before turning his attention back towards his antagonist.

From his viewpoint Wesker scanned the spot where he had seen Warren's spectre a moment ago, only to see that the teenager's wrath-filled figure had now vanished. So whatever meaning that apparition came to convey, it did not have any baring on the current situation and, after all, he still had agent Redfield's presence to consider.

"She's surplus to requirement, Chris", the captain explained, "A decanzian spread of characters is unnecessary in this instance. Her lack of physical prowess rendered her virtually useless for my tests from now on, and if you were to act as her garrison, it may jeopardise any results which could be obtained from yourself".

It was the last statement Wesker got to utter before he spotted Redfield's furious face twitch, indicating that the younger man was about to raise the Magnum that he held regardless of the risks due to him staring down the barrel of the Desert Eagle. Not wishing to pull the trigger and eliminating the marksman before his scheduled fight against future creatures, the STARS captain aimed his right hand in a reversed fist punch aimed for the young man's temple. As the handle of Wesker's firearm was swung in the direction of Redfield's head, the marksman obstructed that strike by using his forearm. But Wesker followed up that blocked effort as he twisted to his own left and planted the bottom of his right foot into Redfield's stomach, which was an attempt that connected exactly as he wished against the target.

While the marksman bent down and gasped for air due to the kick, Wesker continued with a roundhouse kick to his head, causing Redfield to lose the grip on his Magnum as he fell down on his own back. The STARS captain took advantage of his position by standing in an L-stance over the younger man and pointing the Desert Eagle closer to his face.

"You prick! You FUCKING prick! I should have put you down like the fucking DOG that you are!", the marksman spat out as he was looking up from his horizontal position, "What are you waiting for!".

"There's a further part for you to play in this game, Chris", his superior informed him, "_That _is what makes you a much more precious commodity than poor Rebecca there. In case your remaining friends should expire before I can collect what I require of them, I requisite you remain healthy to engage in a controlled exercise against my star pupil".

"What are you talking about! What is this goddamn _hold_ that Umbrella has on you?", Redfield barked.

"I think you're confused, Chris", the older man grimaced, always staring down at the younger person via the barrel of the firearm, "I've _always_ been with Umbrella. STARS were Umbrella's, or rather I should say, _my_ little piggies. And when the Tyrant virus leaked, I was forced to give up my lovely members of STARS. But for now, I wouldn't _dream_ of being a discourteous host and, as such, have provided a suitable accommodation for you while you wait your turn to play your part".

Not understanding what his enemy was talking about, and not caring at the time, Redfield made a last-ditch attempt to grab the barrel of the Desert Eagle which was a short distance from his face. But as soon as his left fingers curled around the metal cylinder, Wesker stepped on the marksman's left upper arm, causing Redfield's entire arm to flatten against the floor and thus forcing the young man's hand to let go of the weapon. Reacting to the situation, Wesker moved in a counter-clockwise motion and switched to a T-stance a short distance away from where he previously stood.

"I'm a fair man, Chris, so we'll have plenty of time for show and tell later", the older man grinned, "But for now, get up".

"Fuck you, Wesker! You'll PAY for killing Becca, you son of a bitch!", the subordinate officer countered, not readying to move at all.

"Redfield, you may either _walk_ to your holding cell or be carried there", the older man sighed for the first time, "I will leave the decision entirely in your hands".

Chris Redfield sighed in his own turn, feeling that his despairing situation simply wasn't getting any better, since he had failed against his antagonist. Having failed to protect agent Chambers, and there was nothing to indicate that Valentine, Burton or any other STARS survivors would now fare better.

"Suit yourself, Chris", was Wesker's final statement before he swung the Desert Eagle in a downward arch as if he was striking a nail with a hammer.

The blow struck Redfield in the side of the head, causing a ringing tune to be heard in his ears as pain overwhelmed his skull and he knew he was passing out. His last thought was that he had let down Rebecca Chambers, and he then realized that it was the first time he had the young medic on his mind instead of officer Valentine. Redfield would've thought that was odd if he hadn't been unconscious immediately afterwards.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was upon his return from placing officer Redfield's prone figure within the holding cell that captain Wesker gazed around this particular laboratory. He first retrieved the 9mm Beretta pistol that the uncongenial agent Chambers had dropped while in the process of dying, casually placing the weapon next to one of the many screens that enabled him to recon the remaining rooms of the mansion. He planned to remove the medic's remains to a more convenient spot within the lab, as it was unnecessary to have the corpse littering his domicile while he attended the last few remaining chores. But before doing so, his attention was distracted with two of the screens which contained a pictorial account of people he recognized. The first was that of agent Aitken as the Bravo agent was entertaining himself via the massacre of a small group of hunters with the use of an unrecognized automatic firearm. Wesker briefly reflected where the equally aggravating communications expert happened to come across the sophisticated weapon, but that was an issue for another time. After all, this was to be spire of this evenings festivities. The second image, contrarily, was that of agent Redfield as the marksman had painfully arisen inside his detainment cell and was groggily checking his surroundings, and quickly learning that he couldn't get out of that box without Wesker's permission.

Still requiring to move Chambers' remains, the leader of both STARS teams then heard more commotion from behind him, and turned around in time to see officers Burton and Valentine approaching his position, with the female agent appearing more distracted with her surroundings than the older weapons expert was. That meant that it was time for the main event.

"Wesker?", officer Valentine questioned as she was limping towards him, and doing a substandard job of attempting to hide her disability, while cautiously placing the grenade launcher on the nearest available table in an effort to alleviate the pressure that the large weapon caused her back, "What's going on? What are those _tubes_? Is that a _person_ in there?".

Despite her placing the most destructive item within the mansion down, she maintained the grip on the shotgun, the result of which meant that she was still a dangerous character to reckon with. So Wesker locked eyes with officer Burton, knowing that the weapons expert had to do what the captain nonverbally demanded of him.

In response to the command, Burton raised the Colt Python and aimed the barrel just a few inches away from Valentine's head, prompting the young woman to stop in her tracks as she rolled her eyes in the direction that Burton was standing.

"Thank you, Barry", the STARS captain mentioned with his usually calm demeanour.

"Well, what do you know!", Valentine hissed, the mixture of worry and confusion being obvious on her facial expression as she remained still, stressed about what may happen if she tried to outmanoeuvre two more experienced agents.

"Oh, don't blame Barry for everything", Wesker turned his back to the pair, having more typing to do on his own, "I hear his better half and two lovely daughters would be in considerable peril if he were to choose to deviate from the orders which he is requested to follow".

Valentine only sighed in response, finally understanding who it was that Burton had been talking about earlier.

"Wesker, you're pathetic", she finally sneered, rubbing her eyes with a free hand, and trying to not seem panicked at having to wonder if that'd be the last action she would take in this life before Burton pulled the trigger and ended her existence.

"You needn't concern yourself with Barry's personal trials, dear", the captain went on.

"Why eliminate STARS?", the machines expert demanded, partly out of curiosity since she remembered overhearing Burton talk about that earlier, and partly because she hoped it'd buy her some time.

"Believe it or not, that's just Umbrella's intention", the older man commented with his back still turned to her.

"You're just a slave to Umbrella!", Valentine growled.

"Smart girl", Wesker's tone implied the agent was anything but that. He countered while first looking over his shoulder and then turning around, "But those aren't _my_ intentions. All those things you've witnessed? I'll burn them along with everything you see here".

It was the last partially friendly statement he made before raising the Desert Eagle with his right hand until the barrel was pointed into the young woman's face, and his usually cold tone returned as he took a step closer towards her.

"Barry, go up on the ground and wait there", he gave an order for the weapons expert to follow without looking at the larger man.

Without saying anything, Burton lowered the weapon as he turned away from the two individuals and began walking away from them, his eyes fixed at a slightly lowered angle towards the floor.

"Barry!", Valentine called out as she turned her head towards him, causing the burly man to stop for a handful of seconds before Burton's face lowered even further towards the floor and he then continued walking further away from her.

"I'M SURE GLAD I GAVE _YOU_ YOUR GUN BACK!", she raised her voice to be heard by him as he continued leaving, before turning back in Wesker's direction and lowering it to its usual tone, "Glad to see my trust in you wasn't misplaced, you asshole. So you gonna take the credit for everything? I mean, the fact that there was ammo left JUST before all the bigger creatures, and not to mention that convenient fact that the closer we got to your little lair here, the tougher our enemies got. That was too much just to be a coincidence. And since everyone else is dead, that leaves… you! And I thought it was Barry who was up to something".

"You _gotta_ love Barry", the RPD captain smirked for the first time, "He must really be afraid of Umbrella. Of course he had, prior to the event, been aware of the deliberate tampering with our communications. Surely you cannot argue that his performance of feigned surprise at the broken radios was sublime".

"You and Umbrella took his family!", Valentine yelled back, her anger and frustration quickly forgetting about Burton's forced betrayal and finding their mark on the person who deserved it much more, "I can't believe I stuck up for you! You bastard!".

She couldn't tell whether he was truly offended or merely a sadist, but her supervisor moved faster than her eyes could follow as he reached forth with the same right arm that he was using to hold his firearm and punched her in the face with a straight jab. The blow sent Valentine sprawling on the floor as she tried to reach for her 9mm sidearm in the process, but found that the older leader was standing over her the entire time, the Desert Eagle constantly aimed down at her head.

"Umbrella?", Wesker continued talking, leading her to suspect that he enjoyed hearing the sound of his own voice, "Well, I used some carrots and sticks to cow him into submission, but it had _nothing_ to do with Umbrella".

"What! What're you planning?", the younger agent asked.

"There is only a _single_ way to demonstrate, isn't there?", the RPD captain went on as he kept his weapon trained on her while partially turning to type some more commands into his keyboard with the left hand.

Upon finishing the typed orders, his attention was drawn to an area that was to his upper left, so Valentine's attention was diverted in that direction, and her eyes widened at the sight of the 9-foot tall monster that rested in an unusually large, liquid-filled cylinder. The unconscious creature's left hand contained five giant claws and its beating heart was on the outside of its body, while its sleeping face appeared to be a gross parody of a human's.

"Isn't it magnificent?", Wesker commented after having admired the specimen for several seconds, more so to himself than to her.

"For the sake of that _thing_?", Valentine uttered as she climbed back to her feet.

"You know, I _hate_ goodbyes", her commander stated as he approached her while the Desert Eagle was still extended in her direction.

Valentine gasped as she had expected him to pull the trigger, and then jumped as she heard a gunshot, but then realized that she hadn't been the one to be struck since it was Wesker who screamed in pain as a splatter of blood appeared on his right shoulder. The man in the shades staggered away as he pressed his left palm against the bullet wound that had incapacitated his right arm, which prompted Valentine to look in the direction that agent Burton had previously exited. A smile broadened on her face when she called out Burton's first name since she spotted the weapons expert standing there as both his hands were wrapped around the handle of his Colt Python.

"Forgive me", Burton uttered while approaching her.

"It's not your fault", Valentine gladly shook her hand, "Umbrella's to blame".

"I just...", the older man mentioned as he came nearer, "I couldn't stand to leave my friends. Not again".

Both their attentions were drawn to the sight of an injured captain Wesker as the team leader proceeded on his hands and knees until he reached the control panel and pressed the Return key into the keyboard there.

"What the HELL did you do, Wesker?", Burton marched towards the smaller man while the RPD captain was struggling to climb back up to his feet, reflexively pressing his left palm on the wound that bled from his right shoulder.

"Answer the question, Wesk...!", the weapons expert ordered while pointing his Colt Python towards his supervisor.

Both his and Valentine's attention were drawn away from the injured Umbrella scientist, as Burton was interrupted by sound that emanated from the large cylinder which contained the clawed, inhuman monster within it. Temporarily forgetting to even watch over where Wesker stood, both agents turned to look inside the vertical container and saw that the liquid which the creature was floating in was slowly draining into the floor beneath it.

It wasn't long before all the watery substance had emptied, which left the giant standing on his feet as it twitched, most likely because the nutrition feed had been taken away from it. Its eyes snapped open in response to that stimulus, causing Valentine and Burton to gasp in their own turn, before the monster lifted it regular right hand and drove that fist into the glass ahead of him.

Neither STARS agents saw that Wesker was shaking his head as he let go of his injured shoulder and grasped his face instead, as if suffering from a headache which made the bullet wound pale in comparison. That's because they were still concentrated on the view of the juggernaut who punched the inside of the cylinder two more times, spreading the crack within the glass further with each strike. And with a fourth punch, the glass broke into dozens of pieces and the monster casually stepped out of its previous prison, eyeing the three individuals in front of it.

From his point of view, captain Wesker opened his eyes for the first time since having seen Shakahnna Warren's body floating in her vertical container. The leader of both STARS teams woke up and felt that he was in a place which he didn't want to be at, and it was only afterwards that he felt the sharp pain in his shoulder, not understanding what caused the stinging ache there. But he couldn't examine the injured body part because he witnessed the personification of evil barrelling down on him from a few feet away, which caused him to widen his eyes and mouth in reaction to the horror there. The monster was more than two feet taller and much wider than him at the shoulders, controlling a body that would've dwarfed a hunter when compared to it, with silvery blue skin that were covered with veins and claws on its left hand. Its gruesome face indicated the same type of brutal experimentation that the female creature had undergone before it found its mother's remains.

Regardless of what pain the creature's background showed, and the current injury which ravaged his upper body, the RPD captain had a much more urgent problem. That came in the form of this monster stepping closer to him while it raised its left arm in an indication that it was about to strike. Unable to properly use his preferred right arm, Wesker rushed to withdraw his Desert Eagle via his left hand, only to find an empty waist holster. He had less than a second to search the floor around him and spotted his weapon lying several feet away from where he stood. But it was the last thought he had before he felt the monster's left claws impaling him through the stomach before it lifted him into the air via the use of its left arm alone. Wesker managed one short scream before blood gushed out of his mouth and made him choke on the red liquid before shock set in.

Unknown to him, the giant creature withdrew its left arm out of his stomach, causing his body to slump lifelessly on the floor in a pool of his own blood. It was then that agent Valentine yelled to get Burton's attention. Once the weapons expert turned his face to see her, the female officer single-handedly threw her shotgun in his direction, which Burton caught before Valentine bolted towards the area where the grenade launcher rested. Hoping that it worked properly and wishing that she had tested the weapon earlier, the machines expert closed her fingers around the launcher even while she heard Burton firing three times with his Colt Python. Raising the massive weapon and taking aim, she turned in the monster's direction and saw the older man as he emptied the rest of his firearm into its torso. Two of Burton's rounds found their mark against the creature's external heart, but caused it no visible damage as it didn't even flinch from what should've been a fatal wound.

Agent Valentine didn't have time to consider the reasons behind the impossibility, but this monstrosity seemed to carry the same indestructible qualities as the female creature that she and Burton had pushed down from a high position. And unfortunately for them both, this particular animal was much bigger than their previous opponent. So taking aim with the grenade launcher and hoping for better results, she yelled an instruction for her colleague to distance himself from the target, which Burton swiftly did.

The machines specialist pulled the trigger and recoiled from the force as a grenade shot out of the barrel, but unfortunately missed the creature's torso by a few inches. Instead, the grenade smacked into the broken and empty container that was several yards to its rear before it bathed that area in fire. Valentine yelled a scream of frustration as she heard Burton swearing to himself while the older man holstered the empty Colt Python and opened fire with the shotgun. But she quickly learned from her experience, taking careful aim and pulling the trigger again.

The second grenade burst out of the weapon with a wet sound and collided with her antagonist's torso, and thankfully caused it to stagger backwards before coming into contact with the wall behind it. Amid bursts of gunfire from the shotgun, which it easily brushed off, the monster pushed itself back to a fully standing position and concentrated its attention on her, almost as if it recognized the greater threat that the female officer presented.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Kevlar skin!", an exasperated machines expert exclaimed to herself as it came closer.

Valentine realized its current state as it stalked her while proceeding past Burton as if the male agent wasn't even there, which caused her to turn around and bolt away from the beast. Without a plan in her head, she ran in between two rows of cylinders, no longer paying attention to the comatose creatures who were inside them. And from the sound of heavy footsteps and gunfire which followed her, she could tell that the monster was in pursuit. So she stopped dashing away and turned around while standing halfway between the row of cylinders, taking aim with the grenade launcher as she caught sight of the juggernaut turning the corner, even as it ignored the gunfire that Burton sprayed it with from several yards behind its back. The monster slightly crouched down and bolted towards her, aiming for a collision course with the much smaller human, its bloodied left claws raised with a clear intention to decimate her.

Holding her breath and wishing she could close her eyes, Valentine pulled the trigger again.

Her action set forth a third grenade which exited the weapon and crashed into the creature's torso when it was nearly upon her, enveloping it in fire as its forward dash was stopped in its tracks before it was thrown backwards, but not before it had blindly swung both its arms in midair. The tip of one of its left claws came into light contact with her right shoulder before the monster's body went backward, having reached the beginning of the row of cryogenic tubes. That caused a deep gash to open just over Valentine's upper arm, which in turn prompted the young woman to instinctively brush the blood off with her left fingers. Flicking her hand so as to remove as much of the excess liquid as possible, Valentine shook her fingers away, nonchalantly sending drops of the red substance on the surface of several cylinders, one of which contained Shakahnna Warren, unbeknownst to her.

The seemingly unstoppable beast recovered from the second grenade blast by that time, rearing its body in a position to prepare for another rush in her direction, even while Burton had run out of ammunition in his shotgun and simply tossed the empty weapon at its head. Running after the creature, even as it bolted for the immobile machines specialist who remained in the middle of the two rows of glass containers, Burton yelled at Valentine to shoot it again, though the young woman hadn't heard him at the time as she was too concentrated on the task at hand. With the 9-foot tall monster being merely yards away and Burton hurriedly reloading his Colt Python as he sprinted himself, Valentine pulled the trigger again and fired a fourth grenade into its stomach.

The latest blow stopped the creature's forward run before its body crashed into the same set of cryogenic tubes that Valentine's blood was sprayed on, cracking many of their surfaces, including the one that held the most recognizably human subject, though none of the containers were knocked down. Thankfully, it didn't quickly resume its attack this time, appearing dazed for the moment, so Valentine pressed her advantage by marching towards it as she fired yet again, another grenade enveloping the monster in fire before it finally dropped on the floor in an eerie resemblance of how a human would fall down. And this time, it did not get back up.

The reverberation that followed the large body slamming against the floor caused the web-like cracks in the cylinders to spread wider as the young woman noticed that the beast's external heart had stopped beating, which convinced her that it was truly dead. Loud noise having suddenly given way to silence, Valentine felt the adrenaline leaving her body and shook uncontrollably for an instant before regaining her composure as Burton was nearing her position, the older man's sidearm constantly pointed down at the creature's head.

"Are you OK, Jill?", the weapons expert asked the obvious question, paying close attention to the wound in her shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, I mean...", Valentine's grip loosened around the handle of the grenade launcher, letting the heavy weapon land on the floor by her feet with a heavy thud, even though she remembered that it still had one active round inside, "Let's just... um... get out of here, OK?".

The young woman walked past her giant pursuer's corpse, absent-mindedly passing Burton on the way, but still feeling too shaky from her experience to acknowledge him being there.

"Here, use _this_, Jill", Burton followed her back to the spot where Wesker remained lying in a pool of his own blood as the weapons expert first spotted and then grabbed an unused white lab coat off a coat hanger that was resting on the wall.

"Huh? For what?", a confused Valentine stared back at him, not realizing the reason he was handing her the lab coat, and without remembering the wound on her shoulder that still dripped blood down her torso as she walked.

"Just hold still, OK?", the larger man holstered his Colt Python and reached forth before gently wrapping the lab coat around her right shoulder, and then tying it in a tight knot in an effort to cease the flow of blood.

"Uh, thanks, Barry", the less experienced agent gave a tired smile as she withdrew her Beretta pistol, feeling more pain than that simple task should've made her experience, "Really, for everything, and... thanks".

"You're welcome", the taller man gave a warm and genuine smile, "So how do you propose we get out of...".

He stopped talking when he realized she was looking past him, so he turned around and took notice that she was staring at a group of television screens that were near the keyboard, where their deceased supervisor was previously typing on. Valentine slowly approached that workstation, so Burton followed her as he withdrew the Colt, just to be on the safe side. It was only when they both neared the monitors that Burton noticed what had captivated her gaze a few seconds ago, as two of the screens showed silent moving images of agents Redfield and Aitken, the former angrily punching and kicking a door that he couldn't knock down while the latter was busy toe punting the head of a hunter that he had already shot to death.

"I don't recognize where _either_ one of them are, Barry", Valentine sighed as she looked over both screens, and quickly examined the others to see that none of them showed anything of interest, "Do you?".

"No, I'm afraid not", he shook his head before looking away from the many television monitors and visually scanning the rest of the workstation.

It was several moments of examination where he overheard his younger colleague addressing agent Redfield even though he knew the marksman couldn't hear her, but he then found something that may have warranted Valentine's attention.

"Jill, check this out!", the older man patted her on the right shoulder, and only then grimaced in embarrassment when he remembered the injury that was there, even though Valentine didn't seem to register any new pain there as she looked at the area that he was pointing.

"What do you got, Barry?", the machines expert asked in a lower tone of voice than was normal for her.

"General Unlock", Burton read the inscription above the button that he pointed at with his left index finger, "It _may_ prove to be as much of a godsend as it sounds".

"In that case, let god do his stuff", Valentine approved of his idea by reaching forth and pressing the button.

In an automatic response to her action, the doors that previously led them into this monstrous laboratory clicked, leading the pair of officers to suspect that the entryways would've now been unlocked if someone had intentionally placed a locking mechanism on them earlier. Also as a result, the two agents saw that Redfield was given an indication that the door which held him prisoner in the mysterious room had unlocked also, because the marksman warily tested the door itself, and was taken aback when he felt it opening as a result of his effort. But upon seeing no one on the other side of the open doorway, the young man cautiously rushed out of the holding cell, leaving the empty room behind him.

"Hopefully he's coming _here_, right?", the young woman anxiously turned to ask Burton as she locked eyes with him, "I mean, who put him in that room in the first place? Wesker?".

The mention of her former superior prompted her to momentarily look over in his direction, and she winced as she noticed that the man in the shades was still laying in the middle of a red pool.

"I don't know, Jill. But possibly", Burton wished he could tell for sure, "But Chris _did_ seem to be in a hurry to get somewhere specific. Let's see if we can see him in one of these screens here. Don't worry about Wesker, Jill. He's not worth it".

The older man returned his attention back to the monitors, intentionally drawing her eyes away from the Umbrella employee's remains, both to try to find Redfield's current position and to distract her from becoming upset.

Unfortunately, the only screen that still showed movement only contained Aitken as the young man withdrew a handgun and gleefullly fired an extra bullet into the skull of a hunter who was already dead on the floor, but there were no further signs of where Redfield was.

But it was only a few moments of silence later, where the only sound heard was the one of the two agents breathing heavily, that the door to this large laboratory was used from outside as loud footsteps rushed in their direction. Both officers pointed their sidearm in the area of the entryway before the door was opened and Chris Redfield came running towards them. The young man slowed down his forward rush and began walking quickly when he noticed his two colleagues standing in front of the television screens, and his face relaxed only somewhat when he then caught sight of Wesker's carcass near them.

"Jill, you alright?", the marksman blurted out as he came closer.

"Chris!", the broad smile on Valentine's face indicated to him that she was fine as she dashed past Burton to meet the young man halfway.

The two agents hugged each other as she retained her right grip on the Beretta handle, before he passionately kissed her on the lips for several seconds, and only afterwards pulled his upper body away from their embrace.

"Oh, god! Becca!", the STARS agent blurted out, panic returning to his facial expression.

"Rebecca?", the machines expert asked with genuine concern and curiosity, "I didn't see her, Chris. Did you lose track of her after that door closed behind me?".

She turned her face back to where Burton stood, not noticing his slightly uncomfortable body language due to the show of affection between her and Redfield.

"Did _you_ see Rebecca Chambers anywhere, Barry?", the young woman asked him from several yards away.

"No!", Redfield answered first, becoming more agitated, "That motherfucker Wesker, he shot her down. Killed her right where I stood here! _After_ he killed Enrico! After _I_ told her to take her kevlar off since it was useless against these animals and it was making it hard for her to breathe!".

"What? Oh my god!", Valentine covered her mouth with her left palm at the update, "But _where_, Chris? Where did he shoot her?".

The young man's head spun from one corner of the dark laboratory to another, failing to see where agent Chambers had fallen a short time ago. Copying his movement, Valentine and Burton visually combed the area also, and it was a few seconds later that Redfield spotted the medic's body lying on the floor, in the shadow of a massive table.

"There!", he pointed in the specific direction with his right index finger as he patted Valentine's shoulder with his left hand.

"OK, guys, I'm placing pressure on her entry and exit wounds", the young woman from Alpha team quickly spoke up with a tone of voice that was back to her normal one as she marched towards the spot where Chambers remained immobile, all the while holstering her Beretta, "Chris, you do mouth-to-mouth. Barry, you take the heart".

Valentine squatted next to Chambers' prone figure as she carefully rolled the medic on her back, while both men anxiously stood nearby, quietly looking on her progress. The first action the machines specialist took was to place her left index and middle fingers on the side of the medic's neck.

"She's got a strong, steady pulse", Valentine announced to her two colleagues without looking up, "And she's breathing on her own, too, which is good".

It took her an instant to realize what she was looking at.

"Actually, it's _surprisingly_ good", the female officer from Alpha team added, "For someone who got shot by a Desert Eagle, I mean. And where's all the blood?".

She hastily placed both her palms on Chambers' torso, starting at the teenager's stomach and moving up to her solar plexus. She then looked up at where Redfield stood, extending her left hand at the anxious young man who was biting his own lower lip while he sporadically pulled at the hair at the top of his own head.

"Can I have your knife, please, Chris?", Valentine asked in a mood that was too polite for someone nursing a patient who should've been close to death.

The marksman rushed to withdraw his 9-inch Bowie hunting knife and held it by the blade so as to hand the weapon's handle to her, which Valentine accepted. Working as quickly and carefully as she could manage while contending with physical and mental exhaustion, combined with the pain in her ankle and shoulder, the older woman used the sharp blade to cut Chambers' shirt open, starting with the collar and moving down to her stomach. Valentine quietly apologized to Chambers under her breath before placing her hands underneath the teenager's torn shirt, and the Alpha agent's eyes lit up with delight when she felt a cracked kevlar vest covering the medic's skin.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Valentine spread the two vertical halves of Chambers' shirt further apart. That made it possible for both men to see the white-coloured body armour that had a black patch in its centre, but was still intact as it remained wrapped around the medic's entire upper body, from the shoulders down to the waistline. Redfield recognized it to be the same one that she had taken off and discarded while he was talking to the teenager earlier that day, or at least one that was identical to it. The young man didn't understand how the teenager came to have the armour back on, but he currently didn't care. Instead, he covered his eyes with both hands and aimlessly walked away from his three comrades, repeating "Oh god! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…", as the other two members of Alpha team continued tending to the unconscious youngster.

"Rebecca?", Valentine gently slapped the younger woman on the cheek in an effort to wake her up, "Come on, sweetie. You need to open your eyes for me, OK?".

She slapped her again a few more times, careful to not increase the force she was using with each strike, and then stopped when agent Chambers just didn't stir except for the constant breathing that was visible when her chest rose and sank on a regular basis.

"Here, use this", Burton got the machine expert's attention by handing down something while he remained standing straight.

Looking up from her squatted position, Valentine recognized the full bottle of water that the older man was offering. She accepted the item with a smile aimed upwards into his eyes, guessing that he must've had it within his uniform the entire time, and then returned her attention to the patient as she unscrewed the bottle top. Reacting more out of instinct than premeditation, Valentine took a long sip from the open bottle of water before she splashed the rest of its content on Chambers' face. The result was that the teenager gasped and waved her arms as she tried to sit up. The medic received a sharp pain in the chest for her effort, which prompted her to lie back down on the floor as she passed her right hand over the dark spot on the kevlar vest, before then holding her forehead with the left hand.

"Ow!", Chambers finally uttered as she turned her face to the side, experiencing a headache in her skull and a pain that was at least as bad in her solar plexus.

"Becca?", Redfield had returned to stand near Burton by that time as he eagerly looked down at his dazed, but otherwise very fortunate, colleague, "Say something, Becca. Do you remember where you are?".

"Chris?", the medic rolled her head back so she was staring up towards the dim lights in the ceiling before she recognized the three friendly faces who were surrounding her, "Oh… OH!… Wesker!".

She became more agitated, suddenly remembering the last event that had taken place before she was shot and rendered unconscious. But Valentine was ready for the reaction this time as the older woman placed her firm left hand on the surface of the body armor to keep Chambers from sitting up again, since the Alpha agent was certain that Chambers would try to do so in a hurry for the second time and pay the price for it again.

"Eeeeaaaasy", Valentine advised as she then held the back of the medic's head with her right hand, "The vest stopped the bullet from going straight through you, but you may still have some cracked ribs. Only time will tell that. Plus I'm pretty sure you hit your head when you fell down, so you sit up _slowly_, OK?".

The teenager nodded before the older agent helped her sit up on the floor. Chambers felt healthy enough to not remain where she was, though, so she extended both her arms over the level of her own head, looking up at Redfield and Burton as she did so. Obliging, the two men took a hold of an arm each and helped her stand on her own feet as Valentine rose to a fully vertical position also.

"I'm _so_ glad you're OK", Redfield spoke up first, giving her a broad smile as he approached her once she was clearly used to standing up again.

"Hey, _I'm_ kinda glad I'm OK too", she grinned back as they embraced.

"One thing I gotta understand, though", he added as they separated and he casually pointed at the body armor that doubled as her outfit now, "You _didn't_ have two of those, right?".

"Nooo!", the youngster shook her head with a smile as she intentionally broke eye contact and partially looked down at the floor, "I just went back and got it from where I dropped it on the ground after we split up and I just _couldn't_ find you anywhere. I know what you said about them only being animals and it being useless against teeth and claws and so on, but it just made me feel safer. So I put it on underneath the shirt instead of over it since I thought you'd be mad at me for wasting my time by going back for it, that's all".

"Oh, please!", the young man brushed off the topic with a wave of his left hand, "Never, Becca".

"But what happened to the captain?", the youngest member of STARS asked as she locked eyes with her other two colleagues.

"He's gone", Valentine commented by bending her left arm and pointing behind herself with that thumb, indication the area where the Wesker's body lay, "He tried to sic his pet against us, but it wasted him before we dropped it like the bad habit that it was. Raving lunatic that he was".

"Oh, Jesus!", Chambers covered her mouth with her own left hand at seeing Wesker's current condition, feeling a mixture of shock and sadness at his fate despite her recent experiences with the older man.

"Serves that asshole right", Redfield commented with more disdain as he patted the medic on the upper arm, walking past her to visually inspect the body of the 9-foot tall giant who remained crumbled between the rows of damaged cryogenic cylinders.

"Well, yeah...", Chambers added as she looked first at him from a distance, and then at Valentine and Burton who remained closer, while the weapons expert was paying attention to the array of television screens, "I mean… I just… I _believed_ him when he said he was innocent when we showed him the picture. I really thought he was on our side. And then, _this_".

"Don't sweat it", Valentine remarked as she proceeded to pick up the discarded shotgun and reloaded it full of fresh shells from within her uniform, "He had us _all_ fooled. Except for Chris, that is".

She intentionally left out Burton's forced involvement with the corrupt RPD captain as she looked over to where the marksman was returning from inspecting the dead Tyrant, and made sure to give him one of her patented smiles where she hoped he should understand what she meant by it.

"Yeah, Chris", Chambers chuckled in a more nervous fashion as she hugged herself around the torn uniform while the young man returned to the group, "Feel free to say 'I told you so' now".

"That's not my style, Becca", Redfield replied as he took a hold of his Magnum and Beretta pistol and holstered the latter, "I'm just glad the four of us are still alive and _he's_ the one who's dead. He cost enough good officers their lives for me to…".

He was interrupted by what sounded like an air-raid siren that blared throughout the laboratory.

"The self-destruct sequence has been activated", an automated female voice that the young marksman was familiar with informed them, "Staff members have 25 minutes to de-activate it or reach minimum safe distance".

"What!", Burton raised his face away from the surveillance monitors he was watching while the automated warning repeated in the background.

"What the _hell_ was that?", Redfield blurted out, no longer as relaxed as he had been for the last several minutes, "What does that _mean_?".

"Must've been _Wesker_ who did this before he let sasquatch loose on us!", Valentine sighed with contempt as she marched over to the control panel and inspected the many keys, buttons and screens there.

"Maybe I can de-activate it", Chambers volunteered as she followed the machines expert, "Let's see".

The medic eagerly examined the technology that was in front of her, but her facial expression soon made it obvious that she didn't know how to manipulate these machines.

"You don't know how to de-activate it, do you?", Redfield broke the silence after a full minute had elapsed.

The teenager quickly shook her head as her grim expression locked eyes with him alone.

"OK, here's the plan, boys and girls", the marksman announced to everyone, "We gather whatever weapons and ammo we have and we hightail it _out_ of this shithole. It should be after dawn outside already, so I say we take our chances with whatever mutts are running around the forest and take out every one of them as soon as we see them while we're making our way back to the city. Agreed?".

"What about Richard!", a concerned agent Burton dissented, "He's the last of us! Everyone else from STARS is dead. We can't just leave him behind".

"Fuck!", Redfield punched the air in front of his face in agitation, "I _totally_ forgot about him! Shit!".

"Hold on, hold on!", the medic interjected as she hurriedly returned her attention back to the workstation, "I _think_ I may have a solution. You guys get the guns, OK?".

As the marksman and machines expert pooled the sidearms in one place and Valentine opted to leave the heavy grenade launcher behind, the better to move quickly, Chambers and Burton returned their attention on the screen where Aitken had ceased dismembering the bodies of hunters.

Recalling a gadget she had seen while trying to understand the way to de-activate the mansion's self-destruct mechanism, the youngest member of STARS pressed a sequence of buttons and then grabbed a movable microphone that was resting within an arm's reach of the keyboard. The thin device had been almost invisible as it was the same colour as the workstation itself, but Chambers' close scrutiny found it without a problem. Placing the device a few inches in front of her mouth, she cleared her throat, which resulted in her voice being temporarily projected throughout the laboratory over the automated warning. And from the content of the television monitor, it seemed that agent Aitken heard her, as the communications specialist spun around, most likely to find the source of the unexplained noise.

"Richard? This is Becca Chambers", the medic announced, speaking slowly and clearly while doing her best to ignore the echo of her own voice which reverberated through the lab, "Can you hear me?".

Within the screen, she saw her well-armed colleague from Bravo team saying something back, but there was no sound to be heard from her current position.

"I can't hear you, Richard", she continued, "Nod your head if you can understand me, OK?".

Officer Aitken proudly raised his extended left arm before thrusting out the middle finger, while grinning to himself.

"Richard!", the teenager admonished, "We can see you, you know".

That caused the young man in the screen to laugh to himself as he was proud of his accomplishment.

"Now listen", Chambers continued as the other three officers gathered nearby and watched her progress with the Bravo agent, their task finished, "This place is set to blow in just over twenty minutes. That's the warning you were hearing".

The smile disappeared from Aitken's face, the gravity of the situation being made apparent. Although that didn't stop him from continually looking around his surroundings in an effort to find out where cameras were located so he'd know how he was being watched, but always finding none.

"Do you know where the lab is?", the teenager added, "Can you come and meet us here bef…".

"That'll take too long, Becca", Redfield interrupted as he gripped the microphone by wrapping his hand over Chambers' fingers and bringing the contraption closer to his own face, "Have you seen a helipad in this place, Richard? I think there's only one anyway, but it had a giant white H in a circle on the ground".

Three of the agents saw Aitken anxiously nodding an affirmative answer, not having noticed that officer Chambers let go of the microphone while Redfield continued with the electronic conversation, and the youngster drifted away from the rest of her colleagues.

"Then take whatever weapons you can easily carry and meet us there _now_", the marksman declared, "Once we meet up, we'll go for the forest. And remember – if you can't jog with it, then leave it behind".

Redfield, Valentine and Burton saw the heavily-armed Bravo officer nodding again before he turned away from the screen and ran off in an area that wasn't covered by a camera. The last sight they observed was the young communications expert still gripping his automatic weapon while the assault shotgun rested at his back.

"OK, good", Redfield let go of the microphone and turned back to his associates, "The helipad isn't far from here if we move fast. We each carry a piece and…".

He finally noticed that agent Chambers was away from their small group as she was busy squatting over Wesker's bloodied figure. Valentine and Burton noticed his stare and turned their attention towards her also.

"Becca? Wadda you doing?", the marksman asked, feeling more curious than anything else.

"He's alive!", a restless officer Chambers exclaimed as she stood back up and turned in their direction, "His pulse is weak and he's still bleeding heavily, but he's not dead, Chris!".

"Really? That's a surprise", Redfield approached her position, feeling much less passionate than she did, "So, what do you want _us_ four to do about it?".

"Well, we can't just _leave_ him!", the youngster countered.

"Sure we can", the older man replied, standing between her and the other two agents, "Fuck him. Let him burn with his precious monsters".

"Chris! He's a human being!", the medic shot back, her tone of voice rising considerably, "We can't just…".

"Becca", Redfield came closer still and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Even _if_ I didn't want him dead, which I do, I doubt we can move him without speeding up his blood loss. And afterwards, how are we supposed to carry his sorry ass on our backs when we're running to the helipad and then into the forest to keep from getting blow up here?".

"But…", Chambers' shoulders slumped when she didn't have a reply.

"Look, if it had been any one of our friends, then yeah, we'd carry him and take our chances", the young man continued while slowly leading her away from the captain's mortally wounded body, hoping she didn't notice that he was steadily causing her to leave Wesker, "But I'm _not_ willing to risk our escape on the off-chance that we can save _his_ life, Becca".

"He's right, sweetie", Valentine added when he finished bringing Chambers back into the group, "Come on, let's just go".

"Yeah, and you got your Beretta, correct?", Redfield intentionally changed the subject once the four of them were together.

The medic nodded unhappily.

"Good, you should get it out in case we run into any freaks on our run to the helipad", the young man advised while locking eyes with Burton and Valentine, "Barry's got the Colt, Jill the shotgun, the Magnum's with me. Figured we'd leave that prick's Desert Eagle here. I don't want to touch his items with a pole".

"So, we start running on the count of 3?", Burton asked out loud.

"Fuck that. I know where the helipad is for sure, so I'll take the head", Redfield volunteered, "Jill, you're behind me. Becca, you're behind Jill. And Barry's the tail. Everyone cool with that?".

Several affirmative nods by officers Burton and Valentine before Chambers joined in with a less enthusiastic fashion.

"Good. Hard and fast guys, hard and fast", were Redfield's last words before he turned away and jogged towards the laboratory exit.

* * *

_AN: Yeah has been awhile, I've not had net access in about two months so it's been like death but worse, anyways am back now and regular updates should (in theory) resume. See I've tricked you all by placing the authors note at the bottom. I'm bad :)_

_Want to thank_

_- Admiral Blueberry for saying hi hi, is always nice to know who is kicking about. And since I got a question OH! OH! OH! Shakahnna came into being mainly cause I wanted to have a handle that no one else did. I hate numbers with a passion so didn't want any at the end of my name. Wanted something that sounded quite gamine since that might in fact be the perfic word for me and it just sounded right when I played around so pretty much been my handle ever since. Has a kinda ring to it as well sounds like it might be a bit magical and I like that, makes me feel all special._

_- Jheti for being my favourite heathen mass._

_- Simon and Dusty for their unwaivering reeking of swellity and reviews that result in a giant bubble above my head which reads WWWC!_

_- My boys (and girl Jenny)._

_- The Mitsuki/ Jeremy/ Gregory gang._

_- Johnny T cause is wicked cool you still come back._

_- Cass for not being dead_

_- Lioness cause every girl needs the support of her mum_

_- Deathbyhugs for the complete bubbling over of enthusiasm which unequivocally makes me grin like a Cheshire cat._


	39. Chapter 30 Please Don't Leave Me

Lookie! New chapter already, good news bad news. Bad news, I fell down the stairs and it was rubbish and now I am stucked in bed BUT does mean that I actually sat down and doned something vaguely productive. Unlike my uni application, which I have yet to do. Priorities right? Anyways hope you enjoy! Love but no hugs

Shak

* * *

It wasn't long after the four RPD agents had evacuated the premises that the presence of officer Valentine's blood on Shakahnna Warren's cryogenic tube began to invoke a strange effect. Blood is a particularly potent tool for those alchemists with the skills of a mage, the properties of every living being containing a mostly untapped source of energy. On occasion, this method was used to break the ties that bind, the origins of a blood oath taken by that very fact, forgotten over the ages to have a darker meaning.

These stones, however, were forged from the bones of the highest calibre of sacrificial lamb and ordinarily this would not have proved to be sufficient for the breaking of the chains which kept the teenager captive. But this was not the only factor which had arisen during the two officers' struggle with the ultimate biological weapon. In addition to the blood of another splashing over the stones, there was a secondary factor which came into play.

When the tyrant had fallen, there was a tremor akin to a small earthquake. Nine feet of pure muscle was no small weight, after all, the force from the impact of the creature against the glass structures caused several of the stones to be unaligned, breaking the circle in which they had been placed. Coupled with the cracks in the cryogenic tube via the medium of a stray grenade, that caused the teenaged redhead to react with the natural inclination she would've had without the magical restraints. So the young woman collapsed forward, leaning her head and torso against that same area.

The teenager's mass caused the already-spreading split in the vertical container to widen further, until the front of the cryogenic tube finally shattered. That created a large enough hole for the upper half of her body to burst through, as liquid poured out of the opening at the same time.

While the nutritional fluid began to exit her lungs and dissipate, it allowed her to breathe on her own, the lower part of the hole in the tube cutting into the left side of her stomach, the broken glass digging deep into the flesh and causing it to bleed profusely. The clear, brittle material easily sliced through flesh as though it was little more than paper.

Her mystical imprisonment was over, yet it was the pain that woke Shakahnna Warren up as she groggily opened her eyes, before collapsing forward with her entire body as the lower half of the vertical container broke under the stress. The foot-long shard of glass which had embedded itself just above her left waistline broke away from the rest of the cryogenic tube also, digging deeper into her body as she fell on the floor.

Blinking her eyes several times and trying to feel some kind of sensation in her numb figure, the redhead saw her arms and hair as they were dripping wet. Her first thought was that she was experiencing another astral projection. But why was she so cold and uncomfortable, when her previous projections had her experiencing a sense of physical relaxation?.

It was then that the pain kicked in, causing her to first moan, and then scream due to the ache that encompassed every part of her body, particularly around her stomach.

But this was different, and not just because of the throbbing. She could touch the floor where she was on via her hands and knees, and the sensation of placing her wet palms and fingers on a smooth, hard surface was almost one that she had forgotten. So whatever the change, Shakahnna had to investigate it further. A further series of screams emanated from her lips as she wrenched the sharp object from her left side, angrily tossing it aside. That removed, she willed herself to climb back to a nearly-standing position, yelling further as she reflexively placed her left palm on that bloody wound, and staggered past the remains of a giant, and then past rows of forbidden tubes.

The teenager managed to reach the end of the set of vertical containers and turned the corner, and it was only then that she heard the female voice speaking to her. So Shakahnna spun around, wondering who else was here but whose presence she hadn't seen yet. But there was no one there, even while the voice was still talking.

What was the invisible woman trying to say? The young woman strained to make out the words - something about fifteen minutes left before safe distance is reached? Or was it that the destruction of the self would take place before then?

Warren just couldn't understand the words fully, so she shook her head and looked around further. It was then that she saw the face of a dear friend and the face of a hated enemy, all in one, as Albert Wesker's body was lying nearby in a pool of his own blood. And even more surprisingly, the RPD captain actually managed to raise his head off the red-soaked floor, his sunglasses oddly remaining on his face as he did so. She stood in place, unsure of how to act as waves of memories flooded her mind, prompting her to remember each of the two individuals who inhabited that body. And she didn't know which one of the two men was several feet in front of her now, as his face stopped moving when Wesker seemed to see her in his own turn.

After remaining still for several seconds, the older man raised his left hand and groggily pointed it towards her as the grimace on his face betrayed the physical pain he was in. He also worked hard to regain momentary control of his mouth as he gasped and tried to utter a word.

Shakahnna Warren limped closer, before she dropped on her hands and knees again and came nearer still, passing the Desert Eagle that rested on the floor as she did. She was still wary of being too close to this man, simply out of fear that it may be her antagonist who was trying to lure her towards him as he lay there dying.

"Shaaak!", he choked as more blood poured out of his mouth while he said her name, and his head then collapsed back on the slick floor.

More thoughts raced into the teenager's mind. She suddenly found herself believing that the person in front of her was the noble, but distant, RPD captain, and not the unbalanced psychopath who suited the role of a mad scientist. If it had been the latter, then he would've spat at her for being alive while he was dying where he lay. She was quite sure of that.

But what could she do, considering the state he was in? The teenager barely had enough strength to keep herself conscious, while the older man had lost so much blood already. And from what she could see of his midsection, he was still bleeding further. At this rate, his blood supply would drain in a very short time.

Regardless, though, she hurried closer to his side, even if she had no idea what to do once she got there. There was so much she wanted to say or do, yet could not. But at least he would not die alone. Maybe, if she just held his hand or took his head in her lap while he died, it'd be better than bleeding to death alone during the last few minutes of his turbulent life. The redhead could feel sobs choking at the back of her throat as she knew this wasn't right, every instinct seemed to cry out that fact.

Upon crawling to the area next to his crumbled body, she rose to a kneeling position, which freed her hands to try to examine him. Wasn't there some technique used to slow down one's bleeding? She knew she should've known what a tourniquet was, but right now, she simply couldn't recall how one functioned, and all she could manage was to watch her friend die instead.

Shakahnna Warren convulsed involuntarily, then did so twice, and then three times. During the fourth convulsion, a shiny green mist exited her mouth, the bright cloud hovering in the air for an instant before it dissipated into captain Wesker. As a result, the STARS captain's facial suddenly expression relaxed by a measurable amount, his composure not appearing to be in as much pain as before. And upon closer inspection of his body, the teenager saw that his wound had definitely closed, stopping his blood flow so that he was no longer in immediate danger.

There was that female voice again, this time telling her that she had thirteen minutes left before some self-destruct or another took place. Except that Warren's eyes widened this time. She remembered enough of her past terminology to recognize that a place which was about to self-destruct wouldn't be a nice area to be inside of.

Not wishing to find out what was planned for this room when her thirteen minutes were finished, the redhead reached behind herself and grabbed Wesker's Desert Eagle, and then hastily stashed the weapon within the man's holster. Lastly, she groaned in pain as she stood up to her full height and hoped that whatever scenario made it possible for her friend to stop bleeding would also work for her. But knowing that she wasn't in as bad a shape as he had been earlier, the young woman gripped captain Wesker by the arm and unceremoniously hoisted him onto a standing position.

Carrying his greater weight on her shoulder as his slumped body dragged next to her, Shakahnna Warren slowly made her way towards the exit. And it was only now that she fully appreciated how large this laboratory was.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It took the group of four STARS members several minutes until they were finished jogging towards the helipad, with agent Redfield constantly in the lead while officer Burton maintained the back end of the line of evacuating individuals. The majority of the run had gone without incident, except for one instance when a monster which was seated on an overhead, horizontal ceiling beam had ended up getting its clutches into agent Valentine, easily lifting the young woman into the air and towards itself. Having seeing what happened after he had passed that very spot, Redfield had turned around and screamed in distress at the sight of his favourite colleague who was about to be made into a monster's meal, especially when they were so close to their escape. This particular beast was one that none of the police officers had seen before, wearing what seemed to be a deathmask on its face as its body resembled a humanoid, vertical cockroach. The marksman had anxiously raised his Magnum revolver, ready to fire a crucial shot that carried Valentine's fate with it, but he had ended up not having to pull the trigger because the machines expert had found her own method of executing the giant abomination. Even before Redfield could rescue her, she had withdrawn an Umbrella-brand letter opener that was in the shape of a dagger, which she had found earlier in the night while canvassing the mansion, and had summarily imbedded the blade in one of the creature's eyes. That had caused the ogre to screech a death howl as it dropped her back onto the floor. Valentine hadn't waited to see how long it took to die, instead prompting her three friends to continue running towards their exit instead of wasting time by asking her if she was unhurt.

The run finally led them to this particular area, which was the helipad where the two men and two women were hoping to find agent Aitken. The sun had already risen by the time they arrived at their rendezvous, and every person within the team breathed the cool, outdoor air, happy to no longer be within the claustrophobic confines of the dark mansion. Here, at least, the daylight made it possible for them to easily spot, and deal with, any creatures who tried to sneak up on them. And best of all, the well-armed RPD agents had fifteen minutes to leave the premises and head towards the woods, which was close enough that they only needed a fraction of the available time.

Movement off in the distance was quickly spotted, so everyone in the group except for officer Chambers aimed a firearm in that direction, adamant that they were not going to lose any of their associates now that they were so close to finishing this nightmarish experience. But the three agents quickly lowered the different weapons when they realized that the person who had drawn their attention from about twenty yards away was currently aiming a Tech-9 automatic towards them, and he was none other than Bravo communications expert Richard Aitken. Recognizing his long-lost fellow officers, the young man grinned as he lowered the automatic firearm in his own turn, just as Redfield, Valentine and Burton did the same. He then proceeded to walk towards them, his body language almost too relaxed and casual, considering his surroundings and the experiences that he had undergone in the last two days.

"My brethren", Aitken gave the four members of STARS a friendly smile once he was closer to them, and followed it up with a wink as his primary weapon was aimed towards the ground and his secondary assault shotgun remained strapped to his back, "And Rebecca! It's _so_ good to see you, kid!".

"Hi... Hi, Richard", the medic returned with a forced smile, more so because she was still anxious about being around this place, and remembering what the woods contained for them.

"And Jill", Aitken continued cheerfully, locking eyes with the older woman, "Hey, _there_ you are. Am glad you got away unhurt. I totally nailed that fucker after you wandered off. I _did_ wonder where you'd gone, but hey, we're all here now."

Valentine glared at him for an instant, ready to inform the young man that she had been bitten by what she described as the living roller coaster, and that it was a minor miracle that she hadn't died, and that Aitken hadn't noticed any of it when he chased after the monster. But she eventually decided that she was too tired and this wasn't the right time or place to confront her colleague from Bravo team about those details. So she only sighed and quickly bowed her head in acknowledgement of his greeting.

"I got some bad news, though, guys", the smile disappeared off the communication expert's face as he continued addressing them, "Captain Marini didn't make it. I was there when...".

He stopped talking, his serious demeanor suddenly becoming more suspicious when he looked at the four agents there, and then side-stepped to gaze at the area behind them for a moment.

"Wait a sec!", he continued in a suddenly solemn manner, all evidence of his previous chirpiness gone, "Where's everybody else? Are you guys _it_?".

Agent Burton felt even more disgusted with himself when he heard the outrage in the young man's voice. He and Chambers uncomfortably looked away as Valentine stared at her own feet, while Redfield was the one who nodded his head in a tired fashion, confirming Aitken's dark suspicion.

"But that's less than half the teams!", the Bravo agent raised his voice, feeling incredulous at his colleagues' casualty rate.

"You can thank _Wesker_ for that!", Redfield angrily replied, causing Aitken's eyes to temporarily widen.

"Captain Wesker?", the heavily-armed communications expert asked, "What _about_ him?".

"He sold us out, Rich", the marksman summarized, not paying attention to officers Chambers and Burton, who had physically drifted away from the conversation, "He _brought_ us here so we could be his own personal guinea pigs against these monsters. Monsters that Umbrella Pharmaceuticals created, and Wesker was one Umbrella's own for _way_ longer than he was with STARS. This was just a trap to see how tough their monsters were, and we were _all_ supposed to die here just so Wesker could have his goddamn combat data. Except that _he's_ the one who's dead and the five of us are alive to tell the tale".

"What!", the Bravo agent shook his head as he angrily stepped back, "No way, man! You're bullshitting me. I mean... I mean, captain Marini mentioned something like that right before he was shot… through the fucking heart. But it _couldn't_... I mean, it couldn't have been Wesker who was...".

"Rich, it _was_", Redfield countered, realizing how difficult it must be for someone to accept what he was saying if that person hadn't witnessed Wesker's behaviour in the last half an hour.

"Yeah, and he was _such_ a good liar and he and … he _shot_ me!", agent Chambers raised her voice with slight hysteria to be heard even though she was several yards away from both men and Valentine.

"That's true also", Valentine contributed to the conversation, "Though it's _six_ of us if Vickers made it out of here alive, Chris. Assuming he didn't fly his chopper into a tree or anything while running away".

"Really?", Aitken's grip on the Tech-9 tightened without him noticing it as he calmed down, "So Vickers proved to be a chickenheart, huh? But we don't need him, guys. Kevin wouldn't do that. That guy's got balls of steel. Apparently the recruiting standards for Bravo team are a _bit_ higher than the ones for Alpha team, huh?".

The familiar grin returned to the Bravo agent's face as he finished making his last statement. But he soon became suspicious as to the reason why his colleagues didn't sound relieved at the idea of the Bravo team helicopter evacuating them out of this hostile ground.

"Kevin's dead too", Redfield finally informed him in a coarse voice after a silence that seemed to last an eternity, "He was the first KIA we found when we landed here. I'm sorry, Rich".

In response to what he said, Aitken screamed in frustration and kicked a non-existent enemy who was next to him. He fought the urge to pull the trigger on his automatic weapon, recognizing the need to preserve his ammunition if they were meant to evacuate this place on foot, since the surrounding woods could still hold many dangers for them.

"I know how you feel. We _all_ do", Redfield consoled by placing a left hand on his right shoulder, "And I promise you that we'll make Umbrella _pay_ for this once we get back home. But we have to get there first, OK?".

As Aitken was nodding his agreement, all three officers heard Burton and Chambers calling their attention from a distance of about a dozen steps away. So the three RPD members turned to see that the weapons expert and medic were crouched around a foot-long cylinder that had diagonal spikes supporting its vertical shape as it rested on the ground.

"What do you have there?", Valentine called to them both, "We don't have time to explore any more. We should hightail it out of here ASAP, no?".

She turned to the marksman while she finished talking.

"Right?", she asked him, realizing that the pair would listen to Redfield more so than to her. Being more familiar to everyone else there, he had more clout.

"But I think this is a flare, guys!", Chambers called out in an excited fashion, "It means we can fire it into the air and get Brad's attention if he's still nearby".

"Becca", Redfield sighed, surprised she still had faith in the pilot, "That son of a bitch is _gone_. He's not anywhere around here to _see_ the flare once it's sent. Let's just go like Jill said. With a bit of luck, the five of us will make it past those damn woods and waste every mutt and zombie along the way and reach the RPD without a single scratch on us".

"But, well, I'm not being, you know, am not saying I know better, but didn't you hear his radio call, um… last night?", the medic stood and jogged towards them as Burton remained with the flare, examining it further, "Granted Brad got scared, but so did I and a couple of times I ran away and am not sure whether I wouldn't do the same cause under these circumstances you don't think straight".

Her defending of the pilot only resulted in Redfield growling in anger, before he suppressed that initial reaction and forced a calmer expression onto his face.

"I mean, well, he took off, yes", Chambers continued when she was near the other three officers, "But he was still flying around and, you know, waiting for us to let him know we were OK so he could come back. And the radios _still_ don't work, as far as I can tell. I don't know _why_, but they don't. So maybe this flare will get his attention if he's still waiting for us in the helicopter nearby and waiting for something to show that we are here?".

Valentine would explain later that the non-functional radios were the result of Wesker's handywork, but instead chose to quickly weigh her options now.

"Not that I agree with your eternal optimism in people, sweetie", she addressed the younger woman, "But I suppose we don't have anything to lose by trying, do we?".

"You're actually _considering_ trying to contact that chickenshit loser?", the marksman asked them both.

"Well, Chris, look at it this way", the machines expert turned to him only, "The woods that are past that gate over there are, what, three hundred yards away? The five of us could make it there in less than five minutes. But we have just under _fifteen_ minutes to go before this place goes. That gives us about nine minutes to send the flare and see if Vickers comes running. If he does, then we get a comfy ride back to homebase. If he doesn't, then we still have five minutes to reach the woods, which is more than enough time".

"Oh, jeez, you guys are _out_ of it to think Vickers is gonna respond", Redfield laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion, "The guy's not even _here_ any more. But by all means, feel free to spend several minutes proving me right".

"Will do", agent Burton announced from further away of the four officers as he ignited the explosive filled stick and swiftly stepped away from it, rejoining his colleagues as a bright pink flame shot several hundred yards into the sky and illuminated the space above them in the same colour.

"Just so you guys know, we're not cutting it close and then waiting for someone to sprain their ankle after chickenshit doesn't show up", Redfield informed no one in particular as he checked his watch, carefully counting the minutes, "We wait _six_ minutes, not nine. And that gives us eight minutes left to go for the woods when you all realize that I'm correct here".

"Well, Chris", Chambers chuckled, speaking in an intentionally loud tone, alerting the others to an impending punch line "You can be as right as you want, as long as you remember you promised to stay off the cigarettes once we got back home".

"Real funny, Becca", the young man grinned as he reached into one of the pockets of his uniform and withdrew a half-empty packet of Marlboro, and then placed a cigarette between his lips, "But see, we're not home yet, are we?".

"Oh, come on!", the medic protested as the marskman next withdrew a lighter.

"No, no, don't whine, Becca", Redfield smirked as he lit the cigarette, "You pushed me into this by putting me down and making me feel bad about my addiction, in front of my friends, no less! That kind of humiliation is just unforgivable".

"No! Come on, no!", the teenager tried to pull the cigarette out of his mouth, and failed when Redfield backed away in an effort to evade her reach, "I'm sorry, OK? Just no more of those things, OK?".

The result of Chambers chasing Redfield in a small circle around their three other colleagues was enough to lighten the mood of the five otherwise exhausted officers, which was the intention. The medic and marskman were glad that they even heard Valentine and Aitken laughing at the scene they witnessed, which made everyone's time marginally less anxious.

Just then, Redfield stopped trying to run away from the medic's pursuit, and the offence that he was pretending to feel disappeared from his face as his serious expression locked eyes first with Valentine, and then with Chambers.

"Do you hear that?", the marksman asked his fellow officers.

"Hear what, Chris?", the teenager answered his question with a question of her own, wondering why the mock chase had come to an end.

"Is that?", Valentine thought out loud as her attention was elsewhere, "Is that really...?".

"I don't believe it", Burton whispered in response to her query, "I think it _is_!".

"Um, what are you guys talking about?", Chambers asked in her own turn, having no idea what the three STARS members were discussing among themselves.

But as soon as the young woman was finished making her comment, she also realized that the sound of a helicopter approaching could be heard, as the noise of rotor blades was becoming louder with every passing instant.

It was a few seconds later that all five officers clearly saw an outline of the Alpha team helicopter appearing in the sky as the flying machine slowly approached their position.

"I don't _believe_ this!", Redfield commented as his eyes were fixed on the descending helicopter, just as everyone else's attention was also, "For once I'm glad I didn't take that bet. Can't believe Brad actually _did_ it".

Stepping ahead of the rest of the group, agent Valentine casually laid the shotgun on the ground before turning around to address her friends.

"Just when you think you know someone, huh?", the young woman smiled as she felt happier than she had done in her entire life, knowing that the nightmare was finally over.

It was the last thing she expressed before a loud explosion was heard from beneath the ground that they stood on. All five agents staggered, unable to remain standing still as the area beneath their feet shook. Even before anyone was able to ask what that sound was, a second and louder bang sent an explosion of concrete flying up from the middle of the helipad ground, before the chunks of stone showered down on the five individuals.

There were screams of surprise and pain amid the RPD agents' efforts to avoid random scattering pieces of concrete. Then, the 9-foot tall Tyrant monster that agent Valentine had previously knocked down only by using a grenade launcher while in the laboratory burst through the hole that was made in the ground. The behemoth landed several yards away from the opening it had created inside the helipad, acting in a manner that was surprisingly graceful for a creature its size. It raised its massive left arm, the claws on that hand ready to eviscerate the five tiny humans it saw.

The first two people it set its eyes on were agents Burton and Valentine, remembering their part in its painful defeat a short time ago, which was true especially for the female officer whose eyes were currently wide open as the shock of this image sank into her mind. The surprised young woman didn't even move to regain access of her shotgun. Instead, it dawned on her with crushing finality what a big mistake had been made by leaving the grenade launcher behind. This was despite the fact it only containing two more live rounds and her previous encounter with the monster had required three grenades to simply knock it unconscious. Still, though, their most powerful weapon was now out of reach.

As the Alpha team helicopter flew in a circle overhead, suddenly having nowhere to land safely, the five members of STARS saw their doom charging towards them.


	40. Chapter 31 Impossible Last Stand

Shakahnna Warren hissed with a mixture of pain and exhaustion as she continued supporting captain Wesker's bodyweight on her shoulder, the older man's free arm limp by his side while she gripped his free wrist. She couldn't dare let him go even to catch her breath for an instant, since she knew that they were working against the clock to get out of this place. Fearing that if she stopped momentarily and rested, then she may not be able to continue on her trek.

Fortunately, the blood had ceased pouring out of the side of her stomach. So at least she didn't have to worry about passing out due to blood loss at this point, though the wound still felt like it protested and tore with every step she took. But objectively, the young woman knew that the injury wasn't as bad as it felt, keeping in mind that her body healed at a much faster rate than other people did.

Regardless, though, Wesker's larger figure pressing down on her and slowing her progress, in addition to her already exhausted arms and legs, meant that every yard of ground she covered had to be made up with grunts, groans and hisses, as well as colourful dialogue. And finally, just to make things worse, that countdown kept descending as to the amount of time she had left before both she and her friend were decimated if she failed in her task.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she commented on how ridiculous the simulated female voice that was used for the computer's countdown was. She couldn't imagine anyone who would've enjoyed hearing a tone that could have made Casanova himself impotent.

"She sounds like a slut!", she thought out loud as she moved further, always breathing hard.

But her attention was soon diverted as she passed the area where she had originally fought against the two green gorilla-type monsters. She quickly recognized the giant fan that was clinking quietly on the wall, but moving at such a slow rate that the breeze it created was almost nonexistent. The teenager froze for an instant as recollections came flooding back, the memory of the fight not a pleasant one. This pause lengthened, Shakahnna kept as still as possible while the RPD captain was partially draped around her shoulders, since she had sworn that she heard noise that didn't belong to her or to the nearby fan.

Her head darted around a few times, especially paying close attention to the large, circular ventilation shafts that were so low that they almost touched the floor, but saw nothing that moved.

The lack of anything alive other than her and her unconscious patient was a surprise, since Shakahnna could've sworn she heard something being active around here. But digressing, she was about to continue her trek towards the elusive exit. It was then that the corner of her eye caught sight of a monster who resembled a grim reaper's head on a fly's body that easily rivalled the size of her own figure as the creature burst out of one of the ventilation shafts. Without making a single sound, the abomination charged in her direction, prompting the redhead to keep Wesker's arm wrapped around her shoulder with one hand while she reached for his holstered Desert Eagle with the other.

The teenager's hand remembered lessons that her mind had forgotten, while her fingers smoothly undid the weapon's safety mechanism, just as captain Wesker had taught her to do. Taking aim, she pulled the trigger before a 50-caliber round fired out of the weapon, surprising her with the force of the handgun's kickback, though the Desert Eagle still remained in her grip while her arm shook towards the ceiling. The bullet found its mark in her moving target's upper body and the monster dropped dead on the floor.

Without the time to be surprised at this new brand of animal, not considering the kind of unnatural and inhumane experiments she knew had taken place in this area, she resumed her trip towards the door that would lead her outside. Only this time, she kept the Desert Eagle in her free hand and had to do with supporting Wesker's weight with only one arm.

In another place and time, she would've come up with something witty or sarcastic to say to herself, even if she was the only audience to hear the statement. But now, she was just too tired to think of such a remark, so she stayed quiet and continued travelling in the only direction she knew that would lead her out.

Two lives and Chino's well-being depended on her success.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The helicopter continued hovering overhead, agent Vickers obviously confused and frustrated at his inability to land and safety collect the survivors down below. Clearly, the blue skinned tyrant was running rampant on the ground, and might've smashed its body against the flying machine if it came close enough.

But from the point of view of officer Redfield below, the young man heard himself screaming in fear and rage when he witnessed the impossibly huge monster running straight for agent Valentine. He had his Magnum trained on the creature, knowing he only had time to pull the trigger once before the beast was all over her, and not sure if even a Magnum round would've slowed down such a hulking creature. Only a few seconds ago, their escape from this hellhole seemed to be a certainty, but now the odds of survival had been turned upside-down, with their deaths appearing to be the only sure variable.

Worst of all, he was about to watch his closest companion die first. And why in the world wasn't Valentine picking up the shotgun while the animal was running straight for her with a speed that should've been impossible for its size?

If he had been thinking clearly, Redfield would've noticed that the machines expert was temporarily frozen, which guaranteed her extermination within an instant. But then again, it didn't occur to him that he was currently glued in place also. After all, the giant had closed the distance between itself and Valentine while Redfield hadn't even gotten around to pulling the trigger on the Magnum yet.

But suddenly, the first of the five STARS agents opened fire, the sound of an automatic weapon filling the air that otherwise only contained the noise from the helicopter above and the ones of the panicking humans and their inhuman pursuer. Several yards away from Valentine's position, agent Aitken was screaming something that Redfield couldn't understand as the communications expert aimed the full brunt of his Tech-9 against the monster. Screaming further, Aitken blasted dozens of rounds into its torso and midsection.

Fortunately, Aitken's diversion worked, distracting the Tyrant's attention away from the older female agent as it turned its dead, white eyes against him, even as chunks of blood continued ripping out of its body in response to his attack. With the precious few seconds she had been granted, Valentine snapped out of her trance and quickly grabbed the shotgun off the ground before she bolted out of the monster's way.

"On your back, bitch!", Aitken proudly screamed as he continued emptying the clip on his Tech-9 against the target, while Valentine opened fire from behind the creature's back, and the other three agents did the same from its side, "It's time to earn that promotion, baby!".

The Bravo communications expert was sporting a wide grin as he saw more and more blood pouring out of the monster, until his weapon was finally emptied. But after the sound of automatic gunfire ceased, the smile on the young man's face faded when he noticed that, contrary to his expectations, the hulking giant didn't show a single hint of being injured. Instead, the Tyrant seemed to be standing still after it turned towards him rather than Valentine, and patiently waited until he had done his best, before nonverbally informing him of how useless his attack had been. Aitken had never seen anything that could withstand such firepower before, but here was proof that not everything alive could be killed, even by dozens of Tech-9 bullets.

Accepting its turn to go on the offensive, the beast bolted towards him, its left arm swinging dangerously as it did, looking to cut the young man in half with a single swipe. Among screams and more useless gunfire that emanated from his colleagues, Aitken dropped the automatic weapon and desperately dove to the side, doing his best to avoid the deadly claws that were aimed for him.

Somewhere off in the distance, he heard agent Chambers screaming in fear and calling out to whatever god she believed in. But that was ignored as he felt the sharp pain of one of the monster's claws entering the left side of his waistline before it emerged out of his lower back.

The only variable that kept him from being impaled with all five of its claws was the officer's physical prowess, which had propelled him several feet into the air. Even then, he ended up crashing on the hard ground without being able to totally avoid injury.

Aitken tried to climb back up on his hands and knees, noticing the blood that poured out of his midsection before it pooled on the concrete below. His arms collapsed due to his limbs suddenly losing their strength, even while the monster was now taking its time to calmly step in his direction. Contrary to his previous rush, it was almost as if it wished to relish killing this man while it brushed off the annoying gunfire from the other four humans.

The last scene he saw was the beast's outline blocking out the sun from his view, before the giant effortlessly used its right hand to pick him up by the throat and lifted him vertically into the air, the bottom of Aitken's shoes dangling three feet off the ground. The Tyrant locked eyes with him as it bent its left arm, ready to deliver another blow to his torso, this time surely intending to impale the human where he was held immobile. Richard gasped, unable to breathe due to the chokehold that held him in midair and the pain in his stomach. He was wheezing as he tried to reach behind his upper back in an effort to withdraw the assault shotgun, and still being unable to reach the weapon despite his last-ditch efforts.

Off in the distance, he could barely hear the four other agents screaming further, probably yelling out words that he could no longer understand amid further interruptions of gunfire. But none of it made a difference as time stood still and he was about to die.

Except that none of the five humans nor the juggernaut noticed that the Alpha team helicopter had safely landed in the corner of the helipad, as far away from the monster as possible. While the flying machine's rotor blades were still turning, agent Vickers rushed out of the cockpit. His presence finally diverted the Tyrant's attention as well as that of the officers there since the Alpha team pilot was horizontally carrying a four-round rocket launcher on his right shoulder. The young man who had abandoned his colleagues several hours ago ignored the puzzled looks he received from the four agents who were still conscious as he took aim with the rocket launcher and then pulled the trigger. A rocket exited the weapon and left a smoke trail behind itself as it shot towards its target, and then missed the Tyrant's body by about half a yard as it slammed into the steel doors that were part of the gate which divided the helipad from the surrounding forest. As a result, the gate exploded, its heavy metal foundation twisting and burning, while the ultimate biological weapon quietly turned its white eyes in Vickers' direction, recognizing what the young pilot had tried to do, and had come so close to succeeding.

Casually tossing Aitken's insensate body aside in the same manner that a child would throw away a toy that no longer held any interest, the monster switched its body towards agent Vickers. Before the human had the chance to take aim and fire a second time, the giant bent its legs an instant before it leapt through the air in his direction. The Tyrant jumped in a semi-circular arc that reached its peak about fifteen yards in the air before it aimed to land on top of the human who had emerged from the helicopter. But while the creature was still skybound and descending towards him in an effort to stomp the pilot underneath its feet, Vickers screamed out a yell that rivalled with agent Chambers' voice in its pitch as he dropped the rocket launcher on the ground and dashed away.

He was several yards away from the spot where the powerful weapon remained when the Tyrant landed from its leap, the ground shaking as a result of his stomp. Vickers didn't try to withdraw any other smaller weapons as he ran towards his colleagues, not sure of what plans he had in his mind except for the basic one of screaming in fear and getting away from his pursuer. The beast dashed after Vickers on foot, while agents Burton and Redfield chased after it and continuously shot at its back in an effort to force it to give up its pursuit of the pilot. As they did, Chambers rushed to where Aitken remained immobile in an effort to tend to him if he was still alive.

While that scene unfolded, no one noticed agent Valentine limping to where the rocket launcher remained several yards in front of the now-silent helicopter. Picking the weapon up and wincing from the pain in her wounded shoulder, the young woman hoped that it was fully loaded, not even trying to guess where it had originated from. Once it was horizontally on her uninjured shoulder, she took aim, inhaled and held her breath, hoping that she could target the weapon better than Vickers did.

"CHRIS!", the machines expert yelled once, hoping to get the attention of both men from Alpha team so as to inform them that they should steer clear of her target, which had its back turned to her from dozens of steps away.

Seeing her position, Redfield and Burton quickly dove to the side, giving up on their chase of the larger adversary. Valentine pulled the trigger, only exhaling after the second rocket shot out of the weapon, and a trail of smoke appeared to be flying right into the Tyrant's torso, ready to impact against the monster's body.

A smile began creeping on Valentine's lips as she could see that the creature was about to be struck with the second rocket. She didn't care what type of virus infused its flesh, since she knew that nothing could possibly survive an attack by a rocket.

Except that the Tyrant turned its attention towards the direction that the second rocket was flying from, and actually managed to knock the projectile out of the air with its right hand. The path of the second rocket wasn't visually followed by anyone as it flew out of the vicinity, since Valentine's, Redfield's and Burton's eyes widened at the increasingly unbelievable acts that their opponent was capable of.

But officer Valentine had new problems, since the beast gave up its hunt for Vickers, as she wanted, but it now turned its attention on her. Slightly squatting its legs, the Alpha team machinist realized that it was getting ready to land on top of her with one huge stomp that covered the area between it and herself. Proving her correct, the Tyrant flew through the air in a perfect semi-circle again, reaching more than a dozen yards towards the sky before it was aiming to crush her underneath its feet when it landed.

Valentine fought the urge to dash away as the personification of her nightmare was barrelling down on her. She screamed as her voice mixed with Redfield's, and kept the rocket launcher aiming steadily at the airborne monster throughout the entire time. Pulling the trigger again, the young woman sent a third rocket that shot out of the weapon and flew towards the Tyrant. This time, the rocket struck its target in the torso, and the beast had no foothold against the ground to try to brush it aside like it had done before. The Tyrant exploded in the air, bits of its body scattering over the entire helipad, though its limbs had been decimated as a result of the impact.

The silence returned to the helipad area as suddenly as it had been replaced with screams and gunfire, the agents there barely coming to terms with the events of the last minute. Officer Redfield did not wish to spend any more time here than necessary since he was the first to remember the deadline they were working against. Even as the Bravo medic was still placing pressure on Aitken's wound and the Alpha machinist clumsily dropped the rocket launcher next to her feet, the young man holstered his Magnum and dashed to Valentine's side.

"Good work, Jill!", he smiled at his colleague, his heartbeat still ringing in his ears, "Are you OK?".

"Yeah", Valentine nodded while staring down at the ground, partly doubled over from pain, exhaustion and shock, "Nothing that a few years on a psychiatrist's couch won't solve".

"We got all the time for that _after_ we get the fuck AWAY from this damn place", he gently embraced her before returning his attention to the rest of his colleagues, particularly Chambers who was still squatted next to Aitken's prone figure about twenty yards away, "Becca! How's Richard?".

"He's alive!", the medic yelled back across the helipad, not letting her hands off the injury at his side, "But we need to get him out of here, Chris! He needs a hospital as of five minutes ago!".

"Get inside", Redfield lightly patted Valentine on the good shoulder while indicating the helicopter that was nearby.

He turned away from her as soon as he gave the command, not having the time to listen to other points of view, and then addressed the still-shaken officer Vickers who was on another part of the helipad.

"Brad!", the marksman ordered while approaching the pilot, "Get this chopper started again _now_. This place is gonna blow in no time at all. I'll get Richard inside. Barry, you're with me".

Vickers didn't argue, instead jogged towards the helicopter cockpit and climbed into the pilot's seat while Burton quickly approached Chambers' position while holstering his own Colt Python.

"Barry, I'll get his arms", Redfield spoke quickly while the two men stood over Aitken's unconscious form and had Chambers listen in to their conversation as she kept a torn part of her bloodied shirt pressed against his wound, "You get the legs. We keep him as still as possible, while Becca here slows down his bleeding. Everybody OK with that?".

"You got it", Burton agreed while Chambers nodded her head several times.

Placing a hand underneath Aitken's armpits, and watching Burton do the same underneath the young man's knees, the marksman counted.

"OK, on three", he inhaled, "One, two and three!".

The two STARS officers lifted Aitken in a horizontal fashion while the third did her best to follow their progress towards the noisier helicopter, constantly pushing her hands on both sides of his injury. The rotor blades were accelerating when they reached the flying machine and Valentine guided Aitken's prone figure into the rear of the inside compartment after removing the assault shotgun from his upper back. Soon, with the communications agent lying on the floor, Chambers kneeling next to him and Burton and Valentine seated in random areas, Redfield was the last to climb on board the helicopter before he closed the door behind himself.

"Make it fly, Brad!", the marksman knocked on the wall that served as the back of the cockpit, giving his indication that all was ready.

On cue, Vickers piloted the helicopter and the machine lifted vertically through the air. It quickly ascended further, until it was about two hundred yards off the ground, and then began flying back towards the direction that it had originated from twelve hours ago.

Inside the helicopter, Aitken suddenly snapped his eyes open and gasped in pain as he initially didn't recognize where he was. But the first face he saw was that of a smiling Bravo medic who looked down into his eyes. So the young man calmed down and tried to sit up before Chambers gently placed her bloodied left hand on his chest and prompted him to lie back down without saying a word. The pain that shot through Aitken's stomach was enough of an indication to convince the Bravo agent that he should follow Chambers' advice.

"You shouldn't move, Richard, not till we get back, OK?", the medic finally uttered, her right hand keeping as steady a push against his injured body part as possible.

She then turned her gaze to Burton.

"Uh, Barry", she grabbed the older man's attention, "Can you go please and ask Brad to radio and ask for an ambulance to be waiting there for Richard?".

"Yes, of course", the older man rubbed his eyes as he stood up, "And that's not all, either. I'll take care of it, Rebecca, don't you worry".

The oldest man in the helicopter patted the teenager on the back as he stood up and proceeded towards the pilot's cockpit. Once he was there, the other agents in the rear compartment heard him asking Vickers to radio ahead so the RPD station would have an ambulance on stand-by. A few seconds followed, where it sounded like Burton was writing down a few words on a piece of paper. The weapons expert was then heard asking the pilot to request for a Police car to be sent to the address on the paper. Redfield and Chambers did not know what Burton was talking about, but they were just too physically tired to talk about the issue at this time. Besides, they collectively reasoned that the weapons expert would inform them later if he believed that they should know.

"How do you feel, Richard?", the medic asked, knowing the importance of speaking to someone who was hurt and waiting for medical attention.

Aitken didn't wish to risk more pain by trying to talk. So he slowly and carefully smiled as he raised his left hand with the thumb upraised.

Seeing his response and feeling cautiously optimistic, agent Valentine locked eyes with Redfield and smiled at the marksman in her own turn, mimicking Aitken's thumbs-up gesture with her left hand before she leaned her head against the window. Now that she was in a seated position, the young woman felt how exhausted she really was, since she believed every bone and muscle in her body was protesting the strain she had put them through. With her forehead resting against the thankfully cold glass, she closed her eyes and bit her tongue since her ankle and wounded shoulder still felt like they were on fire.

She thought that she should perhaps inform agent Redfield of this, since the young man was obviously concerned for her welfare, and was fussing over her. But for now, she only wished to keep her eyes closed and enjoy the temporary darkness and relative silence that she was entitled to. After all, she would have plenty of time to wonder about what she should do in regards to agent Redfield, and what he wished to do about her, once the helicopter reached RPD headquarters.

So Valentine opened her eyes again while keeping her face leaning towards the window. She could see the entire mansion below, and asked herself if she'd be able to witness that house of horrors exploding before the Alpha team helicopter was fully away from it.

But before she could find out the answer, the machines expert squinted since she believed she saw a moving speck that was making its way past the helipad below. The helicopter was much too high up for her to recognize what that speck was - either a human or a monster. She didn't know, so she returned her attention to the rest of her colleagues in the compartment, noticing that Redfield was still staring at her, and the young man only gave her a friendly smile when she locked eyes with him, not bothering to look away as she did.

Had he been looking at her the entire time she had her eyes closed? Regardless, she didn't ask just yet, since she had something to inquire over the suppressed sound of the external rotor blades.

"Uh, Chris, is everyone who isn't here really accounted for as dead?", the young woman from Alpha team questioned.

Redfield didn't answer with words, only nodding his head as the smile disappeared off his face. Thus, Valentine didn't say anything else as she turned her attention back to the window and looked back down below, wondering who that individual was, assuming he or she was even human. The helicopter was now too high up for her to see any more movement on ground level, and the mansion that contained all those horrific rooms and containers was smaller still. It was the last image Valentine saw before the entire estate exploded in a bright orange fireball, killing everything that still moved within its walls.

"Well, I'm glad that fucking place is ashes", the young woman sighed as she returned her attention to Redfield, who was still gently beaming at her and not looking at anyone else.

As far as she could tell, the young man didn't have any interest in paying attention to either his wounded comrade, the nurse who was caring for him, the helicopter pilot, or the weapons expert who was with Vickers in the cockpit. And if she was being honest, Jill liked his attention, so she finally smiled back.

It was then that Burton's voice reverberated from the cockpit, interrupting the staring contest that the couple was engaged in.

"Hey guys…", the oldest man there was heard announcing to the four agents in the rear compartment, "Brad here wants to apologize for what happened earlier. I told him that his apology is accepted. I'm guessing everyone here agrees, no? Hell, I'm not exactly in a position to judge".

"Yeah, sure, man", Redfield answered first as the grin remained on his face, "Brad, I had some special plans to gut you or whatever if I ever saw you again, but we'll let bygones by bygones, OK? You made up for it when you came out of this chopper, man".

"Nice use of tact there, Chris", Valentine kept smiling while addressing the cockpit in her own turn, "But regardless, we're glad you're OK, Brad, and thanks a million for coming back".

"No, thank _you_, guys", they all heard Vickers' uncomfortable reply, not surprised since the young pilot had always been more relaxed with computers and tense around other people.

"By the way, _where_ in the world did you get that rocket launcher?", Redfield asked, his curiosity demanding to know now.

"Uh, actually, Chris, it was here all along", Vickers' voice explained from the cockpit, "After we, you know, got split up. I... uh... I landed nearby and then went through this chopper. I didn't know what to do. I was either gonna go back to the RPD for help, or I was gonna arm up and return on foot to find you guys. But then... I mean, then I saw this rocket launcher in our compartment, along with grenades, automatic weapons, the whole lot. I was still wondering what to do about it, you know, when I saw your flare".

"But _who_ placed all that firepower in your helicopter?", Chambers asked what everyone else was thinking, looking up to Redfield and then to Valentine.

"Not me, that's for sure", Redfield admitted, "I wish I knew, though".

"I don't know either", Valentine shrugged her shoulders.

"And you know what? I don't care", the marksman continued as he laid the back of his head against the wall behind him, "Right now, all I wanna do is get back home with my friends".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The first two variables that assaulted Shakahnna Warren's sense were that of light and sound. The harsh sunlight caused the teenager to wince as her eyes weren't used to that level of brightness after having been confined indoors for such a long time. So the redhead felt as if she was on the receiving end of an interrogation lamp as she continued pulling captain Wesker's unconscious form alongside her, hampered by the fact that she had to keep his firearm within one of her hands in case another creature attacked. And as she tried to keep the daylight out of her sensitive eyes, while trying to analyze her surroundings, even when she knew that time was very limited, an extremely loud rapping noise struck her ears at the same time from above.

The young woman was tempted to look up, if for no other reason than simply to identify the source of the noise which she thought might just be sirens who were welcoming her to Hell. But she had to fight that temptation, since she couldn't be sure she had the energy left to look up and then return her attention to the spot ahead of herself later. So she kept up with her forward trek, always afraid to stop or be distracted, lest empty reservoirs of strength were to make her body collapse on the spot.

Gritting her teeth and dragging Wesker's ever-heavier figure alongside, the teenager crept closer to her destination which awaited about a hundred yards ahead. At first, she couldn't recognize what she was staggering towards, ignoring the hisses of pain and exhaustion that emanated out of her mouth as she did. But after several more hurtful steps, she believed she was looking at a two-sided metal gate which appeared to be welded shut after having been attacked by someone very powerful. Guessing that the attack against that outdoor exit must've been done by one of the many giant creatures that she had come across earlier, the teenager continued coming closer to it. The whole time, she hoped that the distance between that gate and the mansion behind her would've been enough to save them from the effect of the building's destruction even if she wasn't able to get past the gate itself.

"Come on, Weskie, wake up!", she groaned through clenched teeth as she got closer to her goal, not surprised when the older man didn't respond, "I need you be's helping me with this. I can't do it on my own".

Once there, she kept the RPD agent's arm wrapped around her shoulders and delivered as powerful a front kick into the middle of the metal gateway as possible. The result was fresh pain that travelled through her kicking leg and almost caused her to fall down on her back, and the barrier remained intact.

Swearing in her mind only, Shakahnna Warren groggily placed the older man on the pavement and angrily kicked at the barrier for a second time, feeling encouraged that the subsequent attack managed to dent her obstacle. And a third, similar kick delivered in the same spot caused the separation between the two halves of the gate to be pushed outward far enough that she believed she could slip through the opening. Crouching first, the young woman squeezed past the forced gap, her back scraping against the hot top of the hole in the gate. Once on the other side of the metal barrier, she turned around while still in a squatted position and did her best to pull the STARS agent's unconscious form after her.

Fresh soreness felt on every square inch of her body when she slowly stood back up, suddenly no longer able to keep the Desert Eagle in her grip, so she fitted the weapon back into Wesker's waist holster. And then held her breath as she dragged the heavier man's figure back to a standing position, continuing her struggle to remove them from the blast radius.

A breeze greeted her face, and she couldn't be sure if it originated from the surrounding forest which she spotted a few dozen yards away from her current position. But she saw the deep green vegetation as it surrounded her location from three sides to her left, to her right and straight ahead. The natural environment meant freedom from the man-made abominations she knew she was leaving behind, and as tired and sore as she was, the idea of simply having a chance to rest on a grassy patch was enough to drive her forward. After all, the second, marble structure that separated her from the forest was only as high as her stomach. And considering that the previous gate was much higher and stronger, and still hadn't been enough to confine her within the house of horrors, she felt good about her chances of making it.

Shakahnna proceeded forward, finding it easier to ignore the pain as she came closer to the nearest part of the low fence, and gasped when a large, black bird flew past her face. Fortunately, the crow ignored her and headed towards the trees that waited off in the distance. As a result of the encounter, though, the teenager screamed and covered her face with the left hand, leaving Wesker to dangle past her upper body while he was only supported with the redhead's right hand.

It wasn't long before the redhead lowered her left arm, noticing that she had over-reacted at the sight of a natural scene, as the crow hadn't even tried to attack her. So feeling foolish for wasting several precious seconds, she returned the two-handed grip on Wesker's arm and continued lugging the weight, the cut at her stomach bleeding further and her back screaming in agony.

Finally making it to the low fence, Shakahnna pushed the RPD agent's figure over its side before climbing the obstacle herself, easily landing on the grass that waited there. Doing as much as the aching muscles would allow, the young woman attempted a run. It was at that time that the girl's body collapsed, her muscles no longer following the command that her brain sent forth to continue further away from the mansion, and she dropped flat against the ground. The last act she undertook before her figure shut down was that of making sure to cover her friend's body with her torso and arms, gripping Wesker's head and chest as tightly as she could. At least then, she reasoned that if any damage from the building managed to reach them, then she could regenerate, while Wesker was limited to the frailty that most people possessed.

The young woman breathed slowly as she felt her own heart racing to keep up with the demands she had placed on her wounded body, and despite the pain that still appeared to be everywhere, she was glad to not be moving any more. Thirteen breaths were counted before an ear-piercing explosion was heard behind her, which she didn't see because her face was shoved against Wesker's body, keeping the two of them as close to the ground as possible. Unknown to her, the fire from the mansion hadn't touched her, but the heat from the explosion managed to singe the back of her legs, though sparing the rest of her body as well as that of the RPD captain.

It was several seconds before what sounded like several thunders taking place at the same time finally subsided, and the heat that had accompanied the detonation slowly receded with it. So Shakahnna cautiously lifted her head, and groaned in more pain as she rolled away from Wesker's torso, crashing on the grass next to him and lying flat on her back.

"Fucking hell!", she whispered out loud, surprised at how coarse her voice sounded as it didn't carry the same tone that she believed it did during the many times she was thinking to herself.

The sky overhead was mostly clear, with a light blue colour to it that indicated it was a short time after dawn, so the girl felt glad it wasn't night. The last thought in her head was that of being re-united with officer Chisholm, as she closed her eyes and eagerly waited for her body to recuperate from the intense damage it had suffered. But at least the nightmare was over, she told herself as she began a much-awaited rest period.

The teenager didn't know how long she had laid there - perhaps a minute, or perhaps several hours. But some external movement caused her to open her eyes and sit up at the same time. At first, she saw nothing moving around her, which was good, but it was also suspicious because she could've sworn that she had heard something stirring, which brought her out of the rest she was experiencing. A part of her mind realized that her body wasn't in as much pain as before, and was now only sore in some spots, as if she had undergone an intense physical workout, but nothing worse. Absentmindedly touching the side of her stomach where the glass from the cryogenic tube had dug into her flesh, she felt and then saw that the wound had healed itself and only dried blood remained as evidence of the earlier injury.

But again, what had caused her to wake up?

More curious than worried, Shakahnna Warren looked around the grass and vegetation that was everywhere, and saw nothing again. But then the corner of her eyes spotted slight movement emanating from captain Wesker's direction, as the older man's head began to stir by a few inches. So it was probably that movement which had brought her out of her healing slumber, she reasoned, and was about to reach for the RPD agent with her right hand. She remembered vague details about what occurred after she had staggered in his direction while he appeared to be mortally wounded inside the laboratory, and was eager to investigate how hurt the older man was. But before her fingers could touch Wesker's skin, the STARS captain gasped as he awakened and withdrew the firearm from his waist holster even before he sat up on the ground. The man's sunglasses were crooked on his face, so he instinctively corrected their position in front of his eyes with his left hand while undoing the safety of the Desert Eagle with his right fingers.

The older man screamed to himself as he remained seated on the grass, and kept pushing himself away from the redhead as his right arm continued waving the firearm around him, searching for an enemy that was not there. From his point of view, captain Albert Wesker had woken up experiencing an unpleasant sensation in his torso, and the first memory he recalled was that of opening his eyes while standing within a darkened lab and seeing an impossibly large creature with clawed hands bearing down on him. Wesker had felt a sharp pain in his shoulder that he couldn't explain, but both that injury and his whereabouts in the lab had been secondary to the living nightmare that was almost upon him. He had felt that he was being physically overwhelmed for the first time in his life, and had desperately reached for his handgun, only to find that his holster was empty, and the next feeling was the painful experience of being impaled and lifted through the air before losing consciousness. It was the image of that giant monster as it lifted him several feet off the floor that was vivid in the police officer's mind when he had woken up, not realizing he was now outdoors and the behemoth was nowhere to be found. So it took Wesker several seconds to notice that he was sitting down, that he was mostly unhurt and not dead, that his Desert Eagle was back in its rightful holster, that the nightmare of an enclosure which had caused him to break into a cold sweat for no comprehensible reason was no longer around, that the monster who should've killed him was gone. And most important of all, there sitting on the grass, several yards away from him, was Shakahnna Warren.

In fact, that's who the barrel of the Desert Eagle was currently aimed towards. So the STARS agent lowered the shades towards his nose to get a better look at the teenager who had been the object of his search for such a long time while he was inside the Umbrella mansion. He then sighed with a mixture of relief and confusion as he lowered the weapon by his side, his right hand resting on the grass and reflecting the exhaustion the rest of his body felt.

"It be's really gonna suck if I getted shot now", the redhead smiled at him and placed the palm of both hands behind her as she leaned slightly backwards in an effort to be more comfortable, "Especially after what I've been through, Weskie".

The STARS captain said nothing at first, opting to shakily stand up on his own two feet while he holstered his weapon and then marched towards the still-seated redhead. Once having reached her spot, he gently placed his left hand on her upper arm while adjusting his sunglasses back in front of his eyes with a right index finger.

"Miss Warren, _where_ have you been?", he asked while looking down into her upraised eyes, his voice sporting a combination of professionalism as a police officer and concern for the welfare of someone he was close to.

"What? You're not even gonna ask how I be's?", the teenager playfully asked back.

Wesker opened his mouth, presumably to rectify the mistake that he assumed she was pointing out. But the younger woman then shook her head as she gave him the best grin she could muster under the circumstances, knowing full well that this was the friendly personality she was dealing with, mainly because he hadn't pulled the trigger. Nevertheless, she was still cautious about the possibility of his alter ego making an appearance.

"I gotted quite an interesting story to share", she told him in a more serious tone, "But for now, can we just not be here? I'd rather be in a place where there's stuff like a bed".

She extended her left arm upwards in his direction, which he gripped and helped her up to a standing position.

"That may be a wise decision, miss Warren", he surveyed his surroundings, not needing long to remember agent Frost's demise, "This locale isn't as friendly as it may appear".

It was only then that he first noticed the blood that had congealed through the white lab coat that she wore around her stomach and upper thighs, as well as the fact that the back of both her legs were burned. And the second scenery which caught his eyes was the burning remains of the mansion itself in the distance.

"It would be my preference to escort you to someplace where I can tend to your wounds", he returned his attention to the shorter woman ahead of him, suddenly worrying if the remaining members of STARS had made it out of that inferno alive, even if he didn't have an explanation for himself being alive at this point, "I _do_ happen to have one of my many hideouts within a walking distance of this forest. It's a weapons reserve and area of solitude which I have put together and whose location only I know about, and it will prove to be the place of safety that _you_ may be looking for".

"Go you Weskie! Leading the way, then?" she invited, wondering what kind of distance he meant when he described someplace being within a walking distance.

"Be on your guard until we get there, miss Warren", the RPD captain cautioned as he withdrew the Desert Eagle again, this time checking on the number of live rounds that were still in the weapon, and quickly loading the handgun up to its maximum capacity with the ammunition he still carried in his uniform, "I have more weapons waiting in the safehouse, and I believe I'll need every one of them to deal with the creatures who have infested this forest. But firstly, your safe arrival there is paramount, and you can lock the door behind me when I temporarily take leave to deal with some unfinished business".

"The bollocks you be's going away once we get there!", she protested as she lowered her chin towards her chest and looked towards him with accusing eyes as they proceeded into the forest.

"Miss Warren, there's a lot more going on now than you realize", he replied as they made their way past thicker vegetation, through areas that had no man-made pathways, "This immediate area is now infested with monsters the kind of which you've never seen, and I have several members of my team still unaccounted for. As far as I know, they may be somewhere within this forest, and possibly unarmed and hurt".

Shakahnna's response was to point to her own foot as she followed his trail.

"See that, Weskie? That's my foot going down", she retorted, "You can be either letting me come with you once you're armed up, or I'm gonna grab on to your leg and not let go while you be's going on your little tour".

The police officer didn't say anything at first, momentarily looked in her direction before continuing to visually scan the area around them as they carefully walked further ahead.

"OK?", she tilted her head to the side while staring at him.

"Miss Warren", he finally sighed while his attention was still away from her, "This is, or at least _will_ be, a very delicate search and destroy, and search and rescue mission. To be frank, your presence with be more of a hindrance than assistance if you insist on travelling _with_ me. I would much rather drop you off at the RPD and leave you with my colleagues there, but I'm afraid that would take too much time, and right now, time is of the essence if I'm to have a chance of saving anyone else who's here. As well as to wipe out the monsters who made this forest their home. Which is why I'll have to settle for leaving you in my cabin while you get your rest and I return here. I don't have the time for any more protests from you regarding the issue".

"Ex-squeeze me. I kicked your ass!", the teenager exclaimed back, "I'm coming back here with you, and nothing you can say or do will convince me otherwise".

The older man sighed again, hoping she was merely exaggerating her desire to take on the ferocious creatures once they had reached the safety of his cabin. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he suspected that the girl's attitude was going to prove problematic when he was armed to the teeth and looking to leave her inside his sanctuary before returning here to seek out the infected creatures that his former employer had saturated the forest with.


	41. Chapter 32 For The Hopeless Romantic

"Huh? What was that?", officer Chisholm lifted his head off the desk, realizing that he had fallen asleep at his work station a short while ago, and had even drooled on his long sleeves since his face had been buried in his arms.

It was no surprise that the young man had been too exhausted to stay awake. Ever since officer Donnelly tried to escort him home on orders of captain Wesker, Chisholm had constantly refused to listen to the captain's command or his friend's advice, opting to return to his desk instead. He couldn't justify it to himself, but he preferred to be within the station and not in his bed at home when news of the STARS' alpha team helicopter was heard, even if that meant getting no rest whatsoever.

Besides, considering how the worry in his mind only intensified in the last few days, the cop doubted he'd be able to get any sleep if he had been at home anyway. But contrary to his expectations, he apparently had taken an unexpected nap at his desk, and Donnelly hadn't bothered to wake him up. So sitting in an upright position, and groggily rubbing his eyes, the RPD official instinctively looked at the clock that rested on a nearby wall. He had been unconscious for a little over an hour.

"I said the chopper's coming back, Steve", officer Donnelly repeated the statement he had made a few seconds ago, which had alerted his partner out of the latter's slumber, "Alpha STARS just radioed in and requested that the helipad here be freed up".

"Holy shit! It's about damn time!", Chisholm stood up, ignoring the soreness in his joints and muscles as his heart began to thunder, "Did they say anything else?".

"Uh, no, dude, afraid not", the older partner graciously aimed a left arm in the general direction of the helipad, "There was nothing else. But they're very close. Should be here in a minute or so".

Chisholm didn't need to hear anything else. He rushed past his colleague, knowing full well that Donnelly would follow him, and even expected it. But what caught him by surprise was that his balance was reduced. So he almost tripped while trying to walk, and fought to keep from ending up in a horizontal position on the floor as his partner rushed to catch him.

Chisholm straightened himself before he partially raised both palms towards Donnelly, indicating that he was alright and didn't wish to receive assistance. The only thing that mattered was seeing Shakahnna Warren alive inside that helicopter, and once that hurdle was passed, he would gladly thank his friend for the support shown and then take the next week to rest physically and mentally. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that officer Donnelly had been unusually patient with him, especially considering that the older man was reputed to have a short fuse when it came to everything.

But there would be plenty of time for that later, once Shakahnna's fate was ensured. So both men quickly walked towards the section precinct helipad, finding themselves being joined by more than a dozen others who were also eager to greet the STARS members. Neither officer found this to be surprising, since Alpha team had flown out in the middle of the night while the city was in the center of a homicide crisis, with people's butchered remains being found everywhere on a regular basis. Captain Wesker had taken the STARS team towards where he had believed Bravo team to be, claiming that STARS would address the urgency. But in addition to the general problem, there was also the more specific worry that contact with both STARS helicopters had been lost more than half a day ago. And neither STARS team had been back since then, which was worrisome by itself since procedure mandated that the helicopter be brought back every six hours for maintenance.

Eager to find out what's been happening, Chisholm recognized several colleagues who were friends with officers Frost, those men obviously wanting to ensure that Frost was well, though they most likely weren't as worried about the young man as he was about Shakahnna. After all, Frost had only been missing for half a day, not more than a week, and no one had reported seeing any of his severed limbs being delivered through the mail.

It didn't take the group of almost twenty people, most of them officers, but with a smaller number of members of the support staff, to reach the helipad on the rooftop. The sunlight caused Chisholm to squint his eyes, causing his face to hurt even more, despite the gentle breeze that might've been soothing at another time and place. The ensemble of RPD employees who were around him also noticed an ambulance and three paramedics who were nearby, two of them in a standing position while the third remained seated in a relaxed squat, checking his watch while he was surrounded by an unused stretcher and various other medical equipment.

"Hm... What're _they_ doing here?", Chisholm pointed at the three men, prompting Donnelly's gaze in that direction also, "Any news on anyone who's hurt?".

"We don't know", the older colleague placed a hand on his shoulder, "But might as well go find out who called 'em, huh?".

Both men were about to make their way towards the waiting paramedics when the sound of rotor blades suddenly made itself heard, the STARS helicopter appearing in the sky a few seconds later. Everyone on the helipad carefully proceeded to clear the space around the middle of the ground as the squatting paramedic stood back up, no longer appearing as bored as before.

It was less than a minute later that the flying machine landed gently in the middle of the group of RPD staff, the noise and wind generated by the engine forcing everyone to focus on remaining where they stood, lest they should be knocked aside by the miniature hurricane. The noise from the rotor blades decreased ever slowly, and whoever was inside the helicopter wasn't opening the door to exit the vehicle just yet.

He told himself that he should've been more patient, but for now, Chisholm just didn't care. Seeing that no one exited the helicopter after about ten seconds, which felt more like an hour to the young man, he carefully marched towards the machine, trying hard to remain steady on his feet. Just as he was about to reach the side door, one of the riders from inside opened the sliding metal barrier instead. A young woman who might've been around his own age warily exited the helicopter, appearing to be surprised at the large number of people who were looking at her as she placed both her feet on the asphalt below. But this STARS officer didn't seem to be in the mood to answer questions as she quickly turned around and used a hand signal to indicate others inside to follow her out. On cue, two more men began climbing out of the machine, but these two officers were carefully carrying a third, injured man between them. At the sight of the wounded agent, the three paramedics rushed towards the landed vehicle as they brought the light stretcher and some handheld equipment.

Placing the stretcher on the ground, the injured officer was laid on top of it as all three paramedics began administering aid, even as the first three STARS agents uneasily stood around their wounded comrade, and the pilot exited the helicopter from another door. And upon seeing the paramedics' efforts, the largest STARS officer there whose red hair and beard was ruffled quickly proceeded away from his team mates, making his way back to the precinct below. Among the whispers and louder questions that were asked of the officers who remained around their wounded associate, Chisholm tapped the woman on the shoulder since he wasn't seeing anyone else who came out of the transport vehicle. But another voice interrupted him before he could speak, and he quickly recognized that it was his partner who was addressing the newcomers.

"Valentine!", officer Donnelly called out, prompting the woman in question to turn her head towards the nearby addresser.

Donnelly nodded his head backwards in acknowledgement that he recognized her.

"Are you guys OK there? You guys look a bit rough", the patrolman questioned.

Agent Valentine's tired and spiteful facial expression didn't change, but she raised her left forearm and gave the man a thumbs-up, though the look in her eyes indicated that she was clearly not well.

"Where's Joey and captain Wesker, Valentine?", Donnelly asked next.

"And who's _she_!", Chisholm blurted out without giving the female STARS agent a chance to answer, having seen officer Chambers exiting the helicopter last and realizing to his horror that the rest of the vehicle was empty.

That was when the barrage of expletives started.

Catching everyone by surprise, agent Redfield passionately turned around on the spot where he stood as the rotor blades above him were stopping completely, and angrily pointed his right index finger at Donnelly's chest.

"I'll tell you where that motherfucking corporate WHORE of a captain is!", the marksman almost screamed out, though he didn't appear to be angry at any of the people there, "He sold us out! He got Joey killed and damn near everyone ELSE who isn't here! That fucker wanted to kill every last one of us because Umbrella Inc was pulling his strings! Any other questions?".

"What! But where's _Shak_!", Chisholm's blurted out, the bad news he was receiving only making him feel worse.

He had actually believed captain Wesker when the older superior had claimed to be looking for Shakahnna, enough so that he was willing to sit at the Police headquarters rather than attacking the city's mayor like he wanted. So the news delivered by the irate young man from STARS was totally unexpected.

"Who's this Shak person?", Redfield turned his attention back to Chisholm, the marksman somewhat calmer, especially since he realized that the patrolman who asked that question looked to be in even worse shape than everyone who survived the mansion.

"She's been... been missing", Chisholm uttered, the dread obvious on his face, "Wesker said that he'd... like... bring her back if he found her. If she's not with you".

"Oh, I mean", Redfield was suddenly at a loss for words since he had no idea what the younger man was talking about, but it must've been about someone important that Wesker most likely lied about after the corrupt captain probably murdered himself, "There was no one left. Anyone who wasn't turned into a zombie must've been zombie _food_, and then the whole place blew up, and then...".

It was the last thing the Alpha team marksman got to utter before officer Chisholm's eyes rolled into the back of his head and the patrolman fainted in front of him.

"Holy shit!", agents Donnelly and Redfield exclaimed simultaneously as they rushed to examine Chisholm's figure, but were quickly dispersed by one of the three paramedics who placed a middle and index finger on the young man's throat to check for a pulse.

------------------

Unknown to everyone on the helipad, agent Burton had left his colleagues on the rooftop as soon as officer Aitken was being tended to by the paramedics. The STARS weapons expert quickly made his way to the offices downstairs, and eagerly grabbed a hold of the first telephone he spotted on officer Branagh's desk while the patrolman was organizing paperwork. Burton dialled the number for his home without addressing his curious RPD colleague.

After four rings, the voice that he recognized to be his wife's answered, causing him to exhale in relief.

"Honey! It's me!", Burton tried to keep the panic out of his voice, "Are you three alright?".

He waited a few seconds while his wife answered.

"OK, OK, good, good!", the older man responded in quick succession, "Listen, I want you to grab Moira and Polly and keep them in the same room with you. And you know the Colt that's behind the couch?".

Another pause as his wife replied.

"Yes, _that_ one! It's already loaded!", Burton then continued, "Get it and _don't_ answer the door unless it's me".

Officer Branagh could guess that Burton's wife was most likely asking him to clarify the reason behind these drastic instructions, but the weapons expert was not in the mood to talk at length, so he clearly interrupted her.

"I _don't_ have time to explain!", he added into the receiver, "You three are probably being watched as we speak. Just sit tight and be careful. I'm on my way now!".

Without saying goodbye, the STARS agent hung up and frantically searched around for someone or something else. It was after several seconds that he made eye contact with Branagh, finally noticing the patrolman sitting behind the desk who had been there the whole time.

"I need a car!", Burton stated in a tone of voice that indicated he was not asking a question but expected to borrow whichever vehicle was available now, "Preferably one with sirens so I can go through red lights!".

Sensing the urgency in his colleague's voice, and planning to ask questions to make sure that no details were skipped in the paperwork that was sure to follow an unauthorized use of a police cruiser, officer Branagh reached into his uniform pocket and lifted the keys to his own patrol car with his left index finger.

"May I ask _why_ you're looking to drive off?", the seated man asked.

"If you _gotta_ know, it's because my family's in danger", Burton extended his right hand, palm up, expecting the keys to be tossed in his direction, "Just because Wesker's dead _doesn't_ mean he didn't have people watching them, and maybe he was supposed to check in with them by now. So I need to _go_!".

"You're one of those new STARS guys, right?", officer Branagh stood up, leaving the stack of papers on his desk, "How long have you _been_ in Raccoon City? Do you know the quickest way to your home?".

"Of course I know the way! I've been here for a couple of months", an exasperated weapons expert raised his voice, shaking his extended right forearm since his associate wasn't offering the keys, "Now hand them over, dammit!".

"I've lived here all my life", Branagh countered, "So whatever your home address is, chances are I know a quicker way to get there than you do. Come on, I'll drive".

The patrolman proceeded in the direction of the precinct exit and towards the garage where all the vehicles were kept, shadowed by the weapons expert. The latter checked on his ammunition level, and felt glad he had a full Colt Python just in case the pair ran into any trouble at his home.

He just hoped he wasn't too late and the phone conversation with his wife wouldn't be the last one.

-------------------

On the suddenly quiet helipad, all faces were aimed towards the spot where two paramedics and agent Chambers worked furiously to stabilize a conscious officer Aitken, while a third paramedic and officer Donnelly tried to wake up officer Chisholm. Initially, it was only murmurs of RPD staff members who still didn't understand what was happening, and officer Aitken speaking despite being advised to not do so since he instructed Chambers to care for his firearm collection, and was chastised for his actions by a concerned Bravo medic. And in the middle of it all, agent Vickers remained standing close to the medic and her patient, appearing to be uncomfortable around so many strange faces, almost as if he found solace due to being in close proximity to his helicopter.

Amid the tension, officer Valentine sighed as she turned to agent Redfield, glad that the marksman had stayed within an arm's reach of her as they both watched Aitken's progress on the stretcher. She lightly patted the young man on the shoulder to get his attention, which she did when he turned to look at her. Upon eye contact, the young woman motioned for him to follow her by flicking her fingers towards herself.

Understanding the hint, Redfield walked after her while she limped as far away from the crowd as possible, while still remaining on the rooftop helipad.

After approximately a dozen steps, she finally stopped and resumed the conversation with the marksman, a bit happier since she had the relative privacy of not having every word she uttered being heard by their colleagues.

"Chris, Richard's in _really_ good hands. And given that, I'm too tired to deal with this", she sighed loudly on purpose so as to prove what she was saying, before wrapping both her arms around the back of his neck and kissing the young man on the lips.

"So do you wanna go for our date instead?", she asked after they separated from the kiss, though her arms remained around his neck while she felt his own hands behind her lower back.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Valentine told herself that she should use more tact, especially when around so many strangers from the RPD who would think that her actions were unprofessional. But the combination of the physical exhaustion that both she and Redfield currently experienced told her that they didn't have a lot of time left before they were too tired to stay away. That, in addition to the fact that they had used every chance to indicate to each other that they wished to take this relationship further even while their lives were in danger, was enough to prompt her to be more forward than she would've been usually.

"Well, I mean, sure, Jill", Redfield answered with a small stutter, suddenly making Valentine wonder if she had been wrong in assuming that he wanted to be with her now that the danger was over.

After all, he had been such a smooth talker when he was repeatedly making passes at her inside the Umbrella compound, so why was his speech shaky for the first time since then? Was he previously coming on to her only because he was in a dangerous situation and wanted to use the prospect of a romance as a distraction, but didn't really feel that way when he was safe?

The Alpha team machines expert had to know for sure, so her eyes locked with his while she tried to read his facial expression. Was Redfield appearing to be nervous because she had been too blunt with him, even while they were embracing while they talked? Or was it because he was embarrassed at the prospect of other officers seeing him kiss her? Or just that he really didn't like her all that much in the first place? And to make matters worse, her injured shoulder was stinging with a fresh wave of pain, most likely because her adrenaline was expired.

Holding her breath, it was only then that she noticed the young man looking past the group of RPD officials as he was keeping an eye out for officer Chambers. Valentine turned her head and looked towards the medic also, getting ready to extract her arms from around her colleague's neck and apologize for brashness in assuming he felt something that he apparently did not.

"She's a lot younger than us, Jill", Redfield finally spoke while returning his gaze towards Valentine, "Do you think she'll be OK if we leave her here by herself? I _do_ want to leave with you, yeah, more than anything. But Becca's alone here if we go now".

Valentine smiled without answering for a few seconds, swiftly forgetting about all the doubts she had regarding the young man's feelings and intentions. If anything, she found it endearing that he would worry about his friend even when faced with the offer of the two of them being alone. She hoped this would be a reflection of his personality overall, and not just a fluke because he had been scared out of his mind a short time ago.

"I'm pretty sure she _will_ be, Chris", she intentionally tightened the grip on his neck, "I mean, she's out of that damn mansion, back where it's safe, and if she needs any help, she can always ask Barry or Brad, right?".

"I guess so", the young man was still not sure as he looked back at Chamber's position, then returned his stare into Valentine's hopeful eyes, "It's just that... If we wait a _little_ while, we can walk her home or something, and _then_...?".

"But it's just that…I just don't wanna wait", the alluring smile on her face broadened as she brought her head closer to his and embraced him with a stronger grip, "And she's not a child, you know. She'll be _fine_. Trust me".

Valentine continued talking into his ear next.

"Besides, you did such a good job of taking care of her when she was in danger, she owes her being safe now to you", she lowered her tone of voice and now whispered, "So let _me_ take care of you for a change".

The look on Redfield's face when she separated from him entirely and removed her arms from around his neck indicated that she had gotten him to agree to what she wanted. So the smile remained constant on her face when he took a hold of her hand.

"Right, we'll go", was the only statement he uttered as they made their way towards the precinct exit.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The sunlight outside RPD headquarters caused officer Redfield to wince, with the young man realizing that he hadn't seen such a bright sun in the sky for what felt like was forever. But he objectively knew the actual time to be about two days, since the day before the Alpha team helicopter's departure had been cloudy. And approximately 18 hours spent within the Umbrella mansion meant that his eyes were now accustomed to the dark, and not the burning brilliance of the sun above, especially as it must've been almost lunchtime due to the number of people who were gathering around food-carts and fast food restaurants. Finally, while the sun had still been rising in the late morning when their helicopter landed on the precinct rooftop, the time both agents had taken before being able to leave their place of work meant that it was now much brighter, and noisier, on the street outside.

Redfield remembered that he had the keys to his apartment still within his uniform, as he had been used to whenever on the job. But Valentine had made it so that he waited for her to retrieve her few belongings from a locker because the young woman had informed him that she never carried personal items while on active duty. And since the marksman had been unsure of where the couple was supposed to be heading, or even as to the occurrences that he could expect to take place, he had not tried to convince her to simply return to his home, regardless of how physically tired he felt. Besides, Redfield didn't wish to be pushing his weight around, especially not when he and his colleague were on their first date. He had to admit that the amount of energy he currently possessed was lessening quickly as time went on, so he hoped he could be somewhere to rest for awhile.

The male officer from STARS rubbed his eyes with the right fingers, nonverbally telling himself that he shouldn't be getting so distracted at this time, not when his left fingers were interlocked with Valentine's own right ones. So the marksman looked towards his own left, and smiled at the machines expert whose hand he was holding, noticing how natural it felt to be walking down the sidewalk as if he and Valentine were a couple. She smiled back, though the lines on her face indicated that she must've been at least as tired as he was, if not more so due to the fact that she was limping and her shoulder was hastily bandaged in a large white cloth which was stained red in some parts. Both officers must've been receiving strange looks from fellow pedestrians who curiously stared at their dirtied and bloodied clothes, but neither one of them cared at this time because Redfield noticed that Valentine's lips were moving. So he told himself that he should be listening to her rather than simply thinking within his own head.

"Whatcha thinking?", the weary smile on the young woman's face remained as she asked him.

"Oh", Redfield slightly shook his head, recalling what he should've been pondering about and not what was actually going through his mind before this time, "Just wondering if that cop who fainted was OK, that's all. Doesn't feel right leaving him like that".

"Don't worry", she casually waved her free hand in front of his face, "There where, what, a few _dozen_ cops there with him, _and_ paramedics? He'll be fine".

If the movement caused any fresh pain in her injured shoulder, her face didn't show it.

"And what about your shoulder, Jill?", Redfield changed the subject, knowing she was right, and hoping that he wasn't trying to make excuses because he felt nervous now that the danger was over and he and his fellow agent were finally alone, as he had wanted throughout the entire ordeal in the mansion.

No, he shook his head again, but this time only thinking to himself. He wasn't nervous. In fact, this was exactly what he wanted, so there was no room for second guesses now.

"What _about_ it?", she asked back, genuinely curious as to why he had brought that up.

"Are you sure we shouldn't have it looked at?", the marksman locked eyes with her as he answered, realizing he was being honest with his concern and wasn't simply trying to delay their current plans.

"Don't sweat it, Chris", she gave a small laugh as she tightened her grip on his hand, "Shoulder's fine. Just a glorified scratch, really, considering that the thing that gave it to me could've taken my head off easily. It's my ankle that's still giving me grief. Let's just go home instead".

"And where's home?", Redfield followed through with another good question, accepting that Valentine was capable knowing if she had a serious injury, "I mean, I'm guessing you have a place here in Raccoon just like me, right?".

"You're guessing correct", the smiling woman and the more somber-faced man turned their attention in front of them as they passed other people on the sidewalk.

"Sooo, whose place _are_ we going to, by the way?", the marksman continued.

"Oh, haven't really thought of that", a chirpy Valentine temporarily turned her face towards him before looking back ahead of her, "Well, let's see. Do you have anyone that's _waiting_ for you?".

"No. Like who?", he looked back at her and then returned his attention ahead also.

"In that case, I nominate _my_ apartment, Chris", Valentine continued grinning as they proceeded further, "I happen to have a big, fat cat waiting for me, and she really might start eating the neighbour's children if I don't get in to feed her soon".

"Works with me", he agreed, intentionally not asking her how far away her home was, and if they should walk there or just look for a taxi cab to give them a ride.

Redfield nonchalantly used his right hand to burrow through his uniform, wondering if he had any money on him, as the handful of taxi cabs which he could see were proving to be quite tempting to stop and speak to. He felt the paper currency in his front left pocket, but before he could pull it out in an effort to count it, he was pulled aside as agent Valentine had affectionately yanked him to one side. It was only then that the young man saw that his favourite colleague was drawing him into a large pharmacy, as an automatic glass door opened to allow them inside, and the neon-white lights were thankfully easier on his eyes here.

Even as the male officer was about to ask why they were in this place, he found himself being led into a specific aisle of that small supermarket. Wherever it was that Valentine was guiding him towards, she had a specific destination in mind, and the young woman ignored all the other areas that they were passing to get there.

"I wouldn't normally do this. You can count my previous experiences on one hand", the machines expert stated as she finally stopped in the middle of a specific aisle and looked back at him while intentionally letting go of his hand, "This is just an exception. But considering that we promised this in the middle of a deathtrap, and I'm very happy to be alive just now, I need to be sure we're on the same page. Being in that situation, I think, has shown that there's a degree of trust that I can in you. But for the sake of me not being in the dark, let's go down the checklist of things that may cause a problem later on if they're not addressed now".

It was at this point that Redfield realized the aisle that they had stopped in front of, which was one that was filled with contraception of every kind and colour that he could imagine. So the young man's eyes widened momentarily as he thought that, in the past, he always had to follow dating rules that he considered to be ridiculous etiquette, but here was a woman who had so far proven to just enjoy being in his company. After all, despite what the movies told him, being in the Air Force and being one's self didn't equate to having women throwing themselves at him, and all he had to do was lose his temper once or twice and whoever he had been dating at the time would avoid him as if he had leprosy.

But this case was different. Here, he was being himself and never once had he pretended to be anyone else, and Valentine still appeared as interested in him as he was in her.

It was definitely a change that he could get used to.

"So question one, Chris", Valentine brought him out of the rush of thoughts racing through his head by asking him a friendly question, though it appeared that she already knew the answer, "Married?".

"Uh... No!", Redfield countered, surprised that he even needed several seconds before giving a clear answer.

"Significant other?"

"No." the tone this time slightly less taken aback.

"Do you happen to have any of the STD's that I'd rather like to avoid?", Valentine continued, that alluring smile always on her face, "By those, I mean AIDS, or any of its less fatal counterparts".

"Again, no", the marksman felt himself relaxing to the point where he smiled back, coming to terms with the fact that Valentine was a woman who spoke her mind, and all he had to do from now on was continue being himself.

"And this isn't rushing it?", Valentine continued as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, this time wearing a more serious look on her face as she locked eyes with him.

"No, it's not", Redfield shook his head with more energy than he meant, and then stopped, "I'm aware that it's a common thing for a guy's behaviour to change after he got laid. But believe it or not, after going through that fucking mansion, I can assure you that wasn't me putting on the charm. Just because that stereotype says it's so doesn't mean there's no guys out there who are like that, but also doesn't mean that every guy is either".

What he said must've pleased her because the broad smile returned to her face before she turned away from him and began surveying the items on the shelves.

"And protection first, of course", she uttered as she was intently reading the many descriptions there, "And let's avoid anything that looks like it might burst".

"Well, Jill, considering you've _obviously_ been in this store before, I'll let _you_ pick", the jovial smile on Redfield's face earned him a quick kiss on the lips from the fellow STARS agent before Valentine returned to her search for the right product.

"Aha! Bingo", the young woman grabbed a red, square-shaped cardboard container off a shelf with her right hand before extending her left arm towards the marksman.

Accepting her invitation, Redfield gripped the offered palm with his right hand and let her lead him towards the cashier at the front of the pharmacy.

"Oh, Chris, I'm kinda hoping you have money on you because I don't", she uttered while they neared the manned cash register.

"Never let it be said that I'm good for nothing", was all the young man replied before he pulled out a five-dollar bill and slammed the money on the cashier counter below his left palm, not bothering to collect his change as they both quickly exited the store and were welcomed by the bright noon daylight and the louder noise from outside.

"There's probably no need for a cab", Valentine spoke up in a louder fashion so as to be heard over the surrounding sound of cars and pedestrians, slipping the small container of contraception into her trousers pocket as her left arm linked with his right one, "Kouskous is waiting for us just a couple of blocks from here. I got that place on purpose because it was so close to work, and I could roll out of bed and walk to my shift".

"Glad to hear it", Redfield nodded as he was starting to feel as if he was nearing the point of unconsciousness if he didn't get to rest soon, "And _what's_ your cat's name?".

"Kouskous", she repeated with a laugh, "And it fits her perfectly, trust me".

A moment of silence followed as the smile faded from her face again and they were both staring down the sidewalk ahead.

"Aaaand Chris… what does this make us?", she finally asked after turning to face him again.

"Wadda you mean?".

"I mean, are we a committed couple, or just casually dating?", she questioned, "Or friends who just call each other when we're bored or lonely, or what? This is pretty important for me to know before anything else happens".

"We know we get on fine under stressful situations", he began explaining, knowing full well that it wasn't the answer to her inquiry.

"So does that mean you want some form of commitment or not?", she asked the inevitable question next.

"Well, what do _you_ want, Jill?", he disappointed her with the initial answer, "I'm not trying to ask you because I'm looking to agree with whatever you want. But where _do_ you stand? I'm good with commitment. You've seen me screaming and swearing at my worst, and are still around, so not much else I need to know. So I got no problems with any clauses to not date or come on to anyone else".

The smile that he was quickly becoming addicted to returned on her face. It prompted Redfield to believe that he would be doing whatever he needed to get done to see those two rows of teeth beaming on the young woman's face as often as possible in the future.

Without saying anything else, the machines expert turned to point at the ground floor of a short apartment building that they were nearing from across the street.

"Quiz time over, love", Valentine's left arm squeezed harder around his right elbow while she pointed towards her front door with a right index, "Time to make yourself at home".

--------------------

Agent Redfield was standing at his full height in a bathroom that he had never seen before, but one that he felt very comfortable in, as he faced the mirror that hung on the wall in front of him.

Having arrived at officer Valentine's ground-floor apartment a few minutes ago, he had taken his STARS-issue boots off after being greeted by a black, overweight, hissing housecat. The young man had then received a glass of cold water to drink, which he noticed made him feel somewhat better instantly, as he was obviously dehydrated earlier. So he had then used the facilities in the bathroom before washing his face with tap water at the sink, and finally drying it with the nearest towel.

Exiting the bathroom and shutting off the overhead light, the young man noticed that the black cat was seated a short distance in front of the doorway, and she hissed at him once more. He was about to call out to agent Valentine when he heard the young woman's voice first.

"Chris? You done?", Valentine's voice indicated that she was behind the first closed door on his left.

"Uh, yeah", he answered, with his eyes still locked with the angry cat's face as the pet hissed at him for a third time, "But I don't think your furball likes me very much, Jill".

"Oh!", the laughter was evident in her voice even as she replied through the door, "Don't mind her. She's always a bitch. But she's fed, so that's all that matters. I'll be in the bedroom when you're ready".

Holding his breath as he walked past the irate feline, Redfield gripped the knob to the door that was to his left and turned it. A small voice in the back of his head hoped that he wasn't walking into an organized ruse where several people with cameras were about to take pictures of himself. Turning the knob and pushing the door open, he exhaled when he noticed that his paranoid fear wasn't true at all and Jill Valentine was the sole person there. The light was on in the medium-sized bedroom and a curtain was pulled in front of the only window there. But the detail that caught Redfield's attention was that all the clothes that agent Valentine had been wearing were now scattered on different parts of the floor, including the bloodied white lab coat which had been wrapped around her injured shoulder.

Afterwards, the only sight he kept his eyes on as he closed the door behind him was that of his partner while she was partially seated up on her own bed, wearing only a blanket which covered her body from the armpits down to her thighs. The way in which she had the blanket tightly wrapped around her figure and was clutching it with her right hand, in addition to the partially uneasy smile on her face, betrayed her emotions as being that of anticipation mixed with anxiety.

Redfield only stood in place for an instant, recognizing that the young woman appeared nervous while he himself felt that way also, though probably not to the degree that she did.

Of course, there was no reason for either one of them to be nervous, and he kept telling himself that as he kept his eyes locked with hers and approached the bed. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly as he sat down on the edge of the mattress, while his mind was racing in its attempt to come up with something he could do to make her feel more at ease. But he then remembered that he didn't have to come up with an idea or a tactic to extract a reaction out of her. All he really needed to do was be himself when he was with Jill Valentine, which is what made the young woman special, after all.

So no longer thinking about what his reaction should've been, Redfield merely asked himself what he felt like doing.

The answer came to him even as he acted it out, and he took a hold of her free left hand and kissed those fingers, which caused Valentine to exhale the breath she had been holding that entire time. Fortunately, the uncomfortable smile she had on her face also changed to a more serene one as her body relaxed on the surface of the bed.

And that was exactly what he had hoped would happen.


	42. Chapter 33 Bleak Forecast

WAH!

Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I have forums now so anyone who wants to come play with me is more than welcome.

This chapter is brought to you by me eating lots of Darkspades muffins. Raccoon Cities finest!

* * *

The cabin that Shakahnna Warren found herself in was just outside the Raccoon City forest, past the city limits. That, by itself, was strange enough. But what was even more unorthodox was that Captain Wesker had casually used a key out of one of his uniform pockets to unlock the only door, and had then ushered her inside before summarily closing the door behind them both. 

The almost square-shaped, one floor cabin was approximately fifteen yards by each side, and the redhead could see no other entrances or exits, nor any windows. That last fact prompted her to smile as she gave the older man a thumbs-up.

"Yay! No windows!", the young woman beamed in his direction as she gave her seal of approval.

The RPD captain felt slightly better at the prospect of Shakahnna conversing again, and even appearing cheerful just now, which was in sharp contrast to the subdued demeanour that she had displayed throughout the entire trip to arrive here on foot. The officer had wished to question her then, but her withdrawn behaviour had convinced him to leave those questions for later, especially when he had inquiries that were just as pressing to make about himself.

To begin with, the STARS leader vividly recalled being overtaken and then impaled by a nine-foot tall, hulking monster, the likes of which he had no familiarity with. The mere sight of the creature had been enough to send Wesker into a momentary panic, which was a difficult feat for someone who was as experienced as him. In fact, his blood-stained uniform and the Kevlar vest beneath it were torn exactly in the area where he remembered being stabbed. But oddly enough, his torso felt and appeared fine.

While that topic was important, it was not the most prominent issue on his mind, the man in the shades shook his head in an effort to clear it, and then addressed the only person besides himself who had seen this cabin, ever.

"Would you be so kind as to repeat that?", he questioned, remaining still while his companion kept pacing the floor of his second home, constantly looking around herself as she visually scanned the area.

"I don't be likeying windows", the teenager stopped moving around long enough to answer, before resuming her investigation of the place, "I'm glad there aren't any".

"Why? Worried about creatures breaching…", captain Wesker stopped talking when the mental image of a zombie who was attempting to break through an ordinary home's window flashed in his mind.

That set off a chain reaction, flooding his memory with recollections of everything he had seen and survived in the last couple of days, starting with the identification of the human bite marks on the remains of the couple who were murdered in their home. That was followed by Claymont's betrayal. Then by Joseph's death when the young man had been accompanying him while he disobeyed RPD orders. And finally when he came face to face with the living nightmare who was busy dining on officer Sullivan's remains.

"You may have a point there, miss Warren", the police captain continued speaking after having interrupted himself, "I suppose that we _do_ have reasons to be apprehensive about the weakness that windows represent, don't we?".

"No", the cheerful expression on Shakahnna's face melted when the teenager was checking out the furnace in the small kitchen that was available by the side of the cabin, "You've be'd seeing them too, huh? No one can accuse me of being silly again for wanting to be checking underneath my bed".

"Billions of dollars of research and scientific inquiry", the older man instinctively ran his left hand through the hair at the top of his head, "And all Claymont could do with those resources and manpower was to…".

He stopped speaking again, this time having thought of a variable, rather than being overwhelmed by a flood of memories. And this second interruption was long enough for the teenager to notice and come closer to where he was standing in the middle of what passed for a living room.

"What be's the matter?", Shakahnna tilted her head to the side, the RPD official guessing that her facial expression carried a mixture of concern and wariness, though he didn't know why she'd feel the latter.

"Claymont", Wesker finally answered, expecting the single word to explain everything that she needed to know.

"You what?", the blank look in her eyes indicated she had no idea what he was talking about.

"The Umbrella vice president, overseer of the Spencer Enterprise Quality Control", the taller individual went on, "The _brains _behind all this, who had everyone fooled for _decades_, who assured me that a mere _dog _had escaped and was being dealt with, and thus no problem that required attention".

The RPD secretary was surprised that someone that high up in Umbrella would bother to deal with the police force at all, but then again, if her friend had gotten a hint of something suspicious, it was very like him to go straight to the top. It was all too obvious to Wesker that his temper was worsening with every word he pronounced in the summary description of his Umbrella supervisor, so he had to stop and intentionally breathe in and out so as to remain calm. He achieved that goal, and thus continued removing his dirtied and damaged uniform and body armour. Dropping the discarded items on the rug by his feet, he swiftly moved to a corner of the living room, behind the line of worn-out, but sturdy-looking, couches, and began retrieving a new Kevlar vest from a large gym bag that rested there. He withdrew the vest and was about to strap it on to his torso when he realized that Shakahnna may still not have understood the reason behind his urgent hurry.

"He's also the man who fucked up royally by letting the disaster that created these monsters happen", the RPD captain added in a calmer tone, locking eyes with his friend as he did, "As far as I could tell, the Raccoon forest is still infested with those strange creatures, even if the mansion and labs were fully destroyed. And some of the wandering creatures _are_ beginning to make their way into the city. It's been happening for some time now".

"Uh, Weskie. Hmm…", the redhead chose her words carefully, "All this has to be doing with Claymont because…".

She stopped to let him finish.

"Umbrella's scrambling to cover this mess up, and they _will_ do their best to get it done", Wesker sighed at the amount of explanation it took to update an outsider about the business at hand.

Not that he expected any less, seeing as to how he had worked for that agency for more than half his life, while Warren knew about its existence for less than an hour, "Which means that Claymont's on the run. He needs to take off and disappear, and take his assets, his accounts, all his paper trail, with him. He's working against the clock as we speak, and once he disappears, Umbrella will find him another branch to… supervise. Which means that upon disappearance, vice president Claymont will no longer officially exist. _Now_ do you get me?".

"Umm, yeah", the teenager nodded several times, "But it be's involving you how, Weskie? Let the police be's handlingerage him. You need to be sitting down and resting, and we _really_ need to talk".

He kept the frustration off his face, thinking that she shouldn't require socialization when one has urgent business. Wesker rubbed his forehead again, pushing away the first hint of what may have been a headache, as he didn't wish to deal with such an obstacle now. Besides, a kidnapped victim of Umbrella's that he had been fortunate enough to find unhurt was the last person that he wanted to think of as an irritation. So the STARS captain placed the new Kevlar on the surface of the nearest couch first, instead kneeling on the floor and raising a fake floorboard, before withdrawing a metal box full of fresh .50 caliber flathead rounds.

"The legal system is ineffective. Men like that are not bound by the same rules as us", he finally explained as he replaced the floorboard and stood up to his normal height, fully loading the Desert Eagle that seemed to be part of his body, and then keeping two dozen additional rounds for the future, "I know his current location. Claymont's quaint safe house is perhaps not as secure as he believes it to be. Ideally, I would first deposit you back at RPD headquarters, but time is of the essence".

With that, the leader of STARS holstered his weapon and began placing the body armour over himself.

"But you can rest here while I do what needs to be done, and I'll be back before sunset to escort you back to the city. No one possesses knowledge of my hideout's existence, much less its location. You will be safe", he continued, not aware that the young woman had crossed her arms in front of her chest and was giving him a look that indicated she wasn't about to let him follow through with his plan.

"Uh, Weskie, how do I be putting this?", she bent her right elbow while pointing that index finger towards the ceiling, "No!".

"This isn't a debate, miss Warren", he annoyed her by continuing to strap the body armour around his stomach.

"Damn right, doesn't be being no bloody debate!", she shot back, "I'm not waiting here. I _won't_ wait here".

"I may know of his current hideout, but I have it from a reliable source that any connections I had are dried up as of yesterday, so his new hideout will be a mystery to me. Either this man meets his justice at my hand today or he _never_ does".

"So your master plan be's what? To go in there, with your big shiny gun, and your chiselled chest, and you're gonna fall asleep on him and his nice big security men, with _their_ chiselled chests and guns?".

Wesker said nothing at first, only looking back at her, though the redhead could tell that he was wincing behind the shades.

"Miss Warren, I think you are confused", he uttered at last.

"Ex-squeeze me! Which one of us has lived with high-ranking Umbrella personnel? Please raise your hand", she followed through by lifting her right arm vertically into the air, much to the older man's displeasure.

"Is your hand up? No?", Shakahnna grinned for an instant as she lowered her arm, and then her face became serious again.

"Weskie, Elena never has less than ten men around her, and their guns are _this_ big", she spread her arms wide, making the space in between her hands be as wide as possible, "And maybe you could be's overtaking them, _if_ you were alerted, but tell me, Weskie – how tired do you feel? I don't need to be seeing those bags under your eyes to know that you had a hard day".

Wesker almost started with a counter-argument that all the rest he required would come after facing Claymont, and his training would enable him to neutralize the vice president's security staff. And it wasn't that Warren did not speak without wisdom, and was obviously only stating this because she was worried about him. Still, though, a mere glace at her face was enough to convince him that she wouldn't back down from her argument, and he wished he could believe that this woman wouldn't do something akin to literally clinging to his ankle to force him to get some rest before hunting down Umbrella's top brass.

What solutions did that leave?

"OK, we'll do as you wish", he sighed in mock agreement, pretending to go along with her idea as he kept the Desert Eagle in its holstered position and removed the Kevlar vest from his torso, casually tossing it on the couch, "But we rest for _two_ hours, no more".

"That be's acceptable with me", Shakahnna clapped her hands lightly in front of her face as her usually wide grin returned.

"You may rest in the bedroom", the STARS captain also pointed behind him, towards a doorway that led to an adjacent part of the cabin, "The bed is a single, so if you will take that, I will stay here on the sofa. There is an alarm clock as powered by the generator, and that will accurately give us the allotted time slot. However after two hours have expired, I leave and there will be no hindrances.".

"And here I be'd thinking that you were gonna measure out the two hours yourself manually using your super anally retentative powers. Hey… You sure about you're not gonna be hurting me in my sleep?", she refused to move towards the waiting bedroom.

"Of course not, miss Warren", even Wesker was perplexed by her question, wishing that she would lie down on his bed and fall asleep, which would allow him to go hunting solo for Claymont as he planned.

"Uh, no reason. But it's about, I mean, stuff that I can be's telling you about after we wake up, K?", she nodded in a chirpy manner.

"That is acceptable", the RPD captain gave a relaxed, 2-fingered salute as he first set the alarm clock in the living room for two hours later, and then proceeded towards the largest couch there, under the pretence of sleeping atop it.

"And do you be's having a phone here where I can call Chino? Just before I go power napping?", the teenager asked as she was heading towards that doorway, in an ever-slower pace, which the older man successfully gave the appearance that it was not an event he was impatient to occur.

"No, I'm afraid not", he laid horizontally on the couch, the back of his head resting on one armrest while his feet dangled off the opposite end, "A phone line would be traceable. However, we can procure one once we depart for our business."

"Oh, okay", she answered as her pace towards the bedroom quickened and she waved him a short goodbye, "And you be's sure you're OK on the couch. It _does_ be your bed, after all. Don't feel right just having you sleep on some old couch there".

"Shakahnna, our time is limited." the RPD official raised his head off the armrest as he looked at her retreating figure, a hint of his impatience showing as she was almost through to the bedroom now, "This is perfectly adequate".

He reflexively checked that his Desert Eagle was still strapped to his waistline, a pleasant anticipation building up at the thought of using it on Claymont's escorts before executing the vice president himself. Sensing that the weapon was still there, as expected, he breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Shakahnna finally going to lie down in his own bed in the nearby room.

Once she was out of view, Wesker rested the back of his head against the couch again and began counting slowly to himself, wondering how many minutes he'd have to wait before ensuring that the teenager was properly asleep and he could thus leave her in his cabin where she'd be unharmed. He told himself that there was a chance the redhead may snore, which would easily indicate that it was safe for him to leave. But even while he was pondering the issue, Shakahnna's head popped back out of the doorway to his bedroom and the girl addressed him yet again.

"You know, Weskie, if I happen to wake up and you're not here, then I'll just have to be going out looking for you", she stated in a loud enough voice for him to hear, "All by my lonesome too. And there be's all those monsters in those woods, and it'd be such a shame if they be tearing me apart. I bet it would really hurt".

Wesker locked eyes with his younger companion from across the living room, the expression on her face indicating that she knew all along that he planned to sneak out as soon as she was asleep, and the older man felt his frustration worsening at the futility of resistance against whatever the teenager wanted.

"Wouldn't you hate to have that on your conscience?", she ended her statement before retreating back into his bedroom.

That left the RPD captain feeling as if the next two hours would feel like an eternity, so he may as well try to get some rest since he was clearly stuck in this unwelcome situation.

"Miss Warren, I had already conceded to your plan and I had no intention other than sticking to it", he lied, not acknowledging that she had discovered his ruse and called his bluff, "This paranoia can only hinder you".

This time, all he was greeted with was the sound of her snoring. He could feel a vague exasperation at her blackmailing him into staying at his hideout for an additional two hours, especially when he knew that Claymont was moving to be transferred to a new facility. But without his consent, he was already asleep. His body needed the rest a lot more than he had realized, whether he acknowledged it or not.

-------------------------

It was about three hours after having set the alarm that captain Wesker and Shakahnna Warren finally proceeded far enough from his cabin on foot that they found the first signs of civilization. The additional hour had been necessary for the head of STARS team to wake up, stretch, find a change of clothes, check that his Desert Eagle was still loaded, and then wake up his fellow traveller, despite the restless sleep she seemed to be having. Once she was awake, finding her clothes in a size that fit from his wardrobe proved to be more complicated than he expected. Eventually, she squeezed herself into one of his shirts, which was too big, and a pair of his trousers, that were too small. She had wished to take a shower afterwards, but Wesker had vehemently insisted that enough time had been spent giving Claymont his head start.

While leaving behind the rugged vegetation of the Raccoon City forest, and his hideout along with it, the pair came upon the edge of the industrial section of the city, seeing a shopping mall that Shakahnna remembered to be the one called The Exit. Past that were residential homes in the distance. Along the way to the dirt path they were walking on, which eventually led to more modern, asphalt roads, they also made their way past the first parked vehicles.

It was then that the older man got his companion's attention, snapping Shakahnna's mind out of the reverie she was in, as she had still been working to find the right way to inform him of her experiences in the last two weeks. But at last, she understood that she had spent the majority of the journey on foot trying to come up with the best method of telling Wesker that he was only sharing the body he had with another, much more sinister personality. And now that the RPD captain was speaking to her, the young woman still didn't know how to best phrase her statement. In addition, there weren't really any words she could find which would encompass the range of emotions that had been felt, and when it came down to it, she wasn't even sure she'd be able to talk about the experience. She had been so concentrated on having to tell him that she hadn't even thought about that last, nagging question.

"Is there any particular vehicle you prefer?", the man in the shades casually asked, pointing to the multitude of automobiles which were parked on both sides of the asphalt street they stepped on, the bottom of his shoes feeling the harder ground for the first time since they had left the natural environment around his cabin.

"Uh, what?", the redhead initially stuttered, surprised at how coarse her voice sounded after just half a hour of misuse, "Well, I mean, they all be's _looking_ pretty, especially that green one right there. Why?".

"An SUV, Miss Warren? It figures", the leader of STARS nonchalantly crossed the street so that he was right next to the vehicle that the teenager had mentioned.

Once there, he turned his right hand into a fist and punched the front driver's side window, shattering the glass as bits of it exploded inside the car, though no glass fragments dug into his skin due to fingerless gloves that were wrapped around both his hands. He heard Shakahnna yelping at the sight of him punching in the window, and noted in the back of his mind that even with the events which had transpired, it did not explain why she was so jumpy. He was aware that the answer would come in due time as he reached into the SUV through the hole in the window and unlocked the door. He was also grateful that the vehicle wasn't alarmed, and lastly, pleasantly surprised that there was no pain whatsoever in his fist. The two-hour long rest he had obtained on his couch must've rejuvenated him more than he expected, though he would not have Shakahnna be privy to that information, lest she thinks that her idea had been a good one.

Opening the front driver's side door, the man in the shades carefully brushed all the glass off the driver's and front passenger's side seats, ignoring the splinters that were on the floor. He then partly turned around, locking eyes with the redhead who remained several feet behind him through his sunglasses, almost feeling surprised that she wasn't climbing into the SUV, so he gestured with his left hand.

"Ladies first", he commented in as charming a voice as he could manage.

Oddly enough, the redhead wasn't proceeding forth as he had expected.

"Cops don't be supposed to be doing this kinda stuff. Is illegal and, well, that makes it wrong. Doesn't be setting a very good example, does it?", she anxiously asked instead, a far cry from the excited demeanour he thought she'd have.

"I'll return it once we are done paying my friend a visit. I give you my word", Wesker countered, intentionally leaving out the part about how his colleagues from STARS would've informed the brass at the RPD about his involvement at Umbrella by now, and it meant that he was now officially out of work from both employers.

He thought his reply would've convinced her, but all she did was wince her eyes in suspicion.

"Shak, we cannot afford the time for this", the officer countered, this time turning around to fully face his partner, "I'll leave enough money on the dashboard to fix the window, OK? All that matters right now is that Claymont gets justice before disappearing".

"Alright, Weskie, but no funny stuff, OK?", she finally agreed, walking up and climbing through the open driver's side door and then dragging herself to the front passenger's seat, the entire time hoping that the shaded man's illegal activities wasn't a sign that his ulterior personality was beginning to surface.

Not that he seemed to have any of these concerns on his mind as he followed her example and settled down behind the steering wheel, before closing the door.

"Can I be driving?", she asked with a smile as he was strapping himself via the seat belt.

"No. The fact that you don't know our location isn't the only reason, either.", he replied as he began tinkering with the vehicle's mechanism in an effort to get the engine to start without the ignition key.

His answer widened the grin on her face, making her feel slightly better since it was the type of statement that her friend would've made, as opposed to the nutcase who she had been a guest of, for what felt like forever. And before she even understood what he was doing, the engine roared to life and Wesker checked the area behind his shoulder before accelerating down the street.

"Miss Warren, did I not know you as well as I do, I would let you know that this is your last chance to avoid our trip together", the older man commented while keeping his attention ahead of him, "So I'll request only that you not repeat what you're about to see here to anyone else, instead".

"Oh, OK, Weskie, I can be doing that", she nodded, more to herself than to him, the whole time wondering what he expected to find upon reaching his destination.

"And last rule. Please stay behind me at all times", captain Wesker added, "I require that you not sustain any injury".

----------------

The ride lasted for approximately fifteen minutes, the man behind the wheeldriving through Stop signs and red lights throughout the entire trip, though Shakahnna noticed that he still kept his gaze around him to ensure that he didn't strike any other vehicles or pedestrians. Still, she had to wonder why he was in such a hurry, even if he was arguably the best driver the teenager had ever seen.

Surprisingly, the stolen SUV they were in had been found on the outskirts of the city, just before the beginning of the city's massive forest, and upon reaching the area that Wesker intended, Shakahnna saw that the general surroundings did not change much. Instead, the address that the leader of STARS had driven to was still close to the end of Raccoon City, but it merely happened to be several miles away. Here, she noticed that they arrived at his desired goal because Wesker finally slowed the car down to about 10 miles an hour, which was much slower than the speed he had been doing for the last fifteen minutes, which was easily over the speed limit.

About a hundred yards ahead, the young woman took notice of the lone, two-floor house that was on the edge of the otherwise empty highway that led out of the city. That, by itself, was strange, as the structure seemed to have been built as the first of what was planned to be a large construction project, but was then left after the project was abandoned. So the sight of no other buildings around it was weird from the beginning. Or was she merely thinking it was unusual because she understood that it was where they were currently headed?

Shakahnna didn't know, instead she intentionally removed her gaze from the view ahead and turned to look at the driver, aware that Wesker was parking the vehicle by the side of the road, and then the man in the shades reached by his side to withdraw his Desert Eagle. Any doubts that they had arrived where Wesker wanted to go disappeared at this point. But the surprise wasn't finished for her yet because her eyes widened when she also witnessed him fitting a cylinder-shaped silencer over the tip of the weapon.

"Didn't think you be's getting silencers for Desert Eagles, Weskie", she commented out loud, more to get his attention and hopefully have him speak than because she was truly curious about the state of his firearm.

There was a knot of nerves that was slowly tying itself in the pit of her stomach and she hoped that, perhaps if he spoke with her, it might go some way to elevating it.

"As far as I am aware, you do not", the RPD captain explained in such a calm fashion that she could've mistaken his tone to be speaking during a typical lunch at work, "However, Kendo has a specialist from Oklahoma who takes care of all my weaponry. Damen's one of the best in the business".

"Oh", was the only syllable she uttered, surprised that he didn't notice the jittery state she was in, but seemed to think he had genuinely answered her question, "So, is that where you be's getting your flatheads from?".

"That would be correct", the older man placed the weapon on the dashboard ahead of him as he then stepped on the accelerator, though in a more gentle fashion this time.

The SUV drove towards the house at about 20 miles per hour. It was only then that Shakahnna spotted one more item that was ahead of them, and it was a red sedan that was parked about a dozen yards in front of the house and by her side of the road. As far as she could tell, there were two individuals who were seated inside that second car, but she wasn't able to see any further details from this distance.

Wesker steered the larger, green vehicle towards the parked, red one, and once the SUV had almost overtaken the sedan, Shakahnna noticed that the two men were seated in the front of the second car, and both were dressed in a khaki uniform. Those two individuals had clearly seen the approaching SUV, and had managed to turn around to take a better look at it by the time the larger car overtook their parked position. It was at this point that Shakahnna looked out her open window and momentarily locked eyes with the young, male driver in the immobile vehicle. It was the last sight she got to see before Wesker kept one hand on the steering while extending his other arm past Shakahnna's face. In his second hand was the Desert Eagle with the silencer attached to it, and he quickly fired two shots.

Both the driver and passenger of the red sedan received a bullet in the head, and both men's faces exploded in a gush of blood as their bodies slumped like rag dolls on the seats. Even while that occurred, the SUV kept driving past the sedan, with Shakahnna's bulging eyes having returned to the windshield in front of her, her mouth wide open in reaction to the horror she just witnessed. Even though she hadn't been struck by any of the men's blood that had spilled on the inside of the sedan's windshield, she had momentarily thought she felt the red substance splat on her face. In contrast, Wesker simply returned the weapon to the dashboard and calmly parked the car, either oblivious to his passenger's shocked state, or simply ignoring it. The young woman's face having drained of all colour while her legs felt as sturdy as gelatine, panting as the breath constricted in her chest, she was still unable to accept what happened right before her eyes.

Once the SUV was fully rested by the side of the road, Wesker undid his safety belt, working hard to control his excitement and impatience as he grabbed the Desert Eagle off the dashboard and then opened the driver's side door, before climbing out of the car. He summarily placed two fresh bullets into the silent weapon and quickly closed the door behind him, throwing a glance in the teenager's direction when she hadn't climbed out as swiftly as him.

Debating the idea of staying in the vehicle, or following her friend where she could try to protect him, even while watching him commit acts that she hadn't thought he was capable of before, Shakahnna knew she had to think fast, and ultimately decided on the latter. So she then rushed to exit the SUV also, which Wesker took as the appropriate sign for himself to march towards the front door of the house that was nearby.

"I go in first, miss Warren", the older man flatly stated, his voice as relaxed as ever now, showing no sign that he had taken two lives just moments ago, "Please remember that".

She nodded dumbly several times in fast succession, unable to form any coherent words, the redhead's mind still blankly trying to process what happened a minute ago.

It was the only assurance he needed before he walked up to the front door and stood next to the door frame, nonverbally indicating for her to do the same. Wesker then rang the doorbell with his left hand, his right fingers clenching the firearm with so much effort that his knuckles were losing some colour. It didn't take long for a third man who was dressed in the same fashion as the two individuals who had been assassinated in the sedan to open the front door, and who ended up looking down the barrel of the Desert Eagle as a result.

Shakahnna gasped due to her stressful expectation that she was about to witness another person's unnatural demise. Sure enough, this third young man instinctively reached for a holstered sidearm, even though there was no way he could do withdraw it before Wesker pulled the trigger on his own weapon. Except this time, the STARS captain gripped the less experienced man's wrist with his free hand, and accentuated his point by pressing the barrel of the Desert Eagle against his adversary's heart. As a result, this opponent stopped trying to grasp his holstered firearm and ceased fighting against Wesker's pull on his hand. So with the Desert Eagle still pointed at the man's chest, Wesker retained the grip on the younger man's wrist and used it to pull him out of the house.

Once outside, the man in the shades let go of the uniformed guard's wrist and placed his free index finger on the young man's mouth, indicating that he demanded total silence from his quarry, and again followed the stipulation with another push of the Desert Eagle into the sentry's chest. Getting the point, the person in the khakis quickly nodded his head, though his wide eyes revealed how scared he currently felt, not daring to break the locked gaze he shared with Wesker, though that meant he had to pay no attention to the redhead who was nearby.

"I'll only say this _once_", Wesker pronounced every syllable with enough clarity to ensure there'd be no need to repeat himself, "The man you're guarding is a high-ranking member of Umbrella, and he is responsible for crimes the like of which you just cannot imagine. You have a choice. You can either turn around and absolve yourself from his sins or you can share in his punishment. Sacrifice yourself to protect a mass murderer, or leave. Make your decision".

The guard nodded quickly again, not daring to open his mouth, until Wesker removed the index finger from the surface of his lips.

"Yeah! Yeah! Fine! Whatever!", the young man gasped, "I got a family, and they aren't paying me enough to not see my son growing up!"

"The nearest service station is located three miles in that direction", the leader of STARS commented as he withdrew the Umbrella employee's holstered pistol and casually tucked it into his own belt, "Go, now. And I should warn you that if you make attempts to alert your colleagues, you _will_ be picked off from a distance".

Needing no further encouragement, the sentry first walked backwards for about a dozen yards, before turning around and breaking into a run towards the red sedan that contained his two dead colleagues. He didn't stop next to the car, instead continuing his dash past it and down the highway, and opted to not look back.


	43. Chapter 33B Early Morning Massacre

WAH! Happy New Years everyone! Gotted a long chapter for you all, has been since forages since have shoved up like twenty pages at once but don't think this scene could wait. So I hope you all had a grate festive season, I did and quite a few of you hear made Christmas and Birthdayness be the swell. Gush Gush bubble bubble, hope you enjoy and that there might be some reviews for a green and fluffy short fat redhead.

* * *

Wesker and Shakahnna watched the ousted Umbrella guard run for several seconds before the man in the shades decided it was safe to let him go and the risk of him turning around to yell a warning to everyone else in the safehouse was low. The redhead was visibly relieved, her shaking quietening down somewhat. So very glad that she didn't witness another execution in such a short time, and somewhere in the back of her head, wishing that she would never see one for as long as she was alive. Catching sight of animals dying was depressing enough, but the impact was made much worse when she knew that people who had long backgrounds were having their entire existence stopped abruptly, or being spared, on the spur of a moment, depending on her partner's discretion.

That very partner, the man in the sunglasses wasted no more time after watching the third guard flee before entering the house himself. The first sight that greeted his gaze was a hallway which continued for about ten yards, with cream-coloured walls that made up the entire structure of the bare house, noticeably devoid of all furniture. The second scene Wesker spotted was that of a fourth uniformed sentry who was at the end of the corridor, and the RPD captain's eyes saw the man moving in slow motion as that adversary proceeded to reach for his holstered pistol while also opening his mouth, supposedly to scream a warning. Wesker didn't give him the chance because his right arm extended in front of his face and he pulled the trigger once, sending a bullet that made its way through the man's face and dropped his corpse on the floor with a dull sound. Even before the body had lifelessly settled on the carpet, the man in the shades moved further into the home, inspecting the closed door on his right, the ascending staircase on his left and the two closed doors that were further away from the stairs themselves.

The rogue Umbrella agent turned the first doorknob on his right, doing so as quickly and quietly as possible, knowing that the noise of the last kill coming to rest on the floor would most likely attract the attention of others here. As he did, Shakahnna followed him inside, further disgust emanating from her mind at the sight of the latest death, and unlike this morning, making her feel glad that she had nothing to eat for breakfast, since she'd most likely throw up if she had. By now, her stomach twisted up with enough ferocity that it became harder to keep even her eyes open.

Paying no heed to her just now, Wesker set his attention on the two additional sentries who were making their way towards the now-open doorway from inside the living room, probably curious as to what the flat thud in the hallway was. Behind the fifth and sixth men, he spotted and then ignored the television set and simple wooden table that had a handful of foldable metal chairs around it and cards and glasses on its surface. As expected, the two men who had been on break moved in unison while reaching for their sidearm, while both approaching the intruder, standing a dozen feet apart from each other with their target between them. Wesker launched towards the prey on his own right as he swung the bottom of the handle of his Desert Eagle into the side of the man's head, just next to the eye, causing that person to crumble in an unconscious heap on the floor. In an elegant turning motion away from the fifth antagonist, Wesker then switched control of his weapon from one hand to the other, and spun in a counter-clockwise motion. While the sixth enemy had a pistol in his own hand, the former RPD captain managed to slam the top surface of the Desert Eagle into that opponent, also knocking that person out cold. He thought it was a testament to Umbrella's poor training that he was able to incapacitate them both with only one strike. But Wesker also figured he should not look a gift horse in the mouth, even while he heard Shakahnna as the young woman was currently squatted in front of the body of the fourth guard that he had killed earlier.

He made sure to remove the handguns off these last two men, just in case they had woken up before his task was finished, and nonchalantly dropped the weapons behind the television screen, as he caught sight of the redhead finally following him into the living room.

"Do they be's dead or just indulging in unconsciousness?", Shakahnna questioned as she seemed to be worried about proceeding further than the doorway.

"The latter", Wesker informed her, and only then saw the young woman moving into the living room to be closer to him, but making sure to walk by pressing her body against the walls, so as to be as far away from the two downed sentries as possible.

The RPD official had noticed several very unorthodox behaviours since they had been reunited. The captain made a mental note to ask her the reasons behind this act and the various peculiarities later on, but for now, he had to make haste to his quarry. So he returned back to the hallway, crossed it, and then made his way through the first door that was after the staircase. This area on the other side of the unlocked door was a dining room, but remained as sparsely furnished as the other parts of the house, with bland walls adorned with nothing. The only items within were a simple wooden table in one corner that had some glasses and what appeared to be take-out food on it, along with several metal chairs that surrounded the table, one of which carried a holstered pistol around its back rest. A lone, seventh guard was here, except that the man's firearm wasn't on his person, while he was seated and having lunch on the side of the table which was opposite that of the chair where he had laid his weapon down. So the uniformed man first gasped in surprise, and then dashed off the chair that he used to be seated on, before taking a hold of that piece of furniture and trying to swing it towards the intruder who was several feet away. But a gaze from Wesker's Desert Eagle informed him that his opponent could pull the trigger much faster than he could strike with the metal frame, so the sentry froze in place, and then obeyed the nonverbal command by the RPD captain to place the impromptu weapon on the floor.

Once he did, Wesker pushed the man's back against the wall and pressed the firearm into the guard's chest, threatening him even as he quickly checked that his adversary wasn't wearing any body armour like he had been.

"I have two dilemmas that you will solve for me", the STARS leader whispered at him, making sure he understood every word uttered, "One, the number of guards situated here?".

"Uh, uh…", the younger man stammered, partly because of the sudden fear of having his life be in someone else's hands, and also because he was rushing to remember how many individuals he knew to be in this house, "Uh… yeah, uh… Thirteen! NO! No…Fourteen! There's fourteen of us, _after_ me!".

He nodded his head several times as he confirmed the number in his own mind, to which Wesker followed through with the second inquiry.

"The man you're assigned to protect. His location?", he didn't move his eyes off the man's face, even while his ears were carefully paying attention to any sound that may occur elsewhere behind him, even if Shakahnna had been there to watch out for new dangers.

"In the basement! That's where he is, I swear! I _swear!_", the sentry partly raised his arms by his side as he raised his voice, "He's been there for hours, on the phone and using his damn shredder. Please!".

"Miss, if you'd be so kind so as to escort him outside", Wesker ignored the man's pleas and partly turned towards where Shakahnna remained still, "And make _sure_ he leaves".

"Well yeah, OK, I… I guess", the redhead responded, stepping closer, "Does that mean that he's not gonna be deaded?".

"No, not if he behaves with the conduct of a gentleman, and take this in case he forgets to mind his manners around a lady", the older man replied while withdrawing the pistol he had procured from the first guard who had been allowed to leave unharmed and offered it to her.

"I think I can be handling that no problem", the young woman gripped the weapon's handle, though she did not undo its safety mechanism, instead opting to indicate that the seventh sentry should just march ahead of her until they reached the door that led outside of the house.

The unarmed man was clearly happy to be let go from beneath Wesker's threat when he staggered towards where Shakahnna waited, and then followed her direction to head towards the only exit that the teenager knew. Along the way, he almost went to speak to the redheaded captor who seemed gentler than the man in the sunglasses, but a look at his dead colleague in the corridor convinced him to keep his mouth shut. He quickly moved through the open doorway and then simply began running away from the house once he was outdoors. He looked back once, and upon not seeing her follow him from the entrance, and more importantly, not seeing her take aim at him with the pistol, he felt a sense of relief and slowed down his retreat, though he continued jogging away at a reduced speed.

Shakahnna watched him retreat for about a full minute, until he was almost invisible on the horizon, and it was then that she returned back inside the house where she still didn't understand all that was occurring. The first place she visited was the dining room that she had last seen Wesker, and spotted the kitchen that was attached to that area. Seeing no signs of the RPD officer there, the teenager carefully proceeded back into the hallway, noticing that there was a second, smaller staircase that led down from this side of the corridor. She was debating the idea of whether she should proceed downstairs or upstairs in her search for him, and decided to finally undo the safety mechanism on her weapon, when she heard another dull thud sounding from the floor above her.

Having her question regarding Wesker's whereabouts answered, the young woman kept the weapon pointed towards the floor as she moved towards the larger set of stairs and began climbing them towards the second floor. She was halfway towards the upstairs floor when an eighth uniformed guard appeared at the top of the staircase and bolted towards her. Against her better judgement, Shakahnna was about to point her weapon at him and order him to stop, but the older man paid no attention to her, instead dashing past her position and running out the door at full speed. She looked towards him, and then at the open doorway that he had disappeared out of, before continuing her trek upstairs, and once there, she saw the reason for the guard's panic.

Standing inside one of the two bedrooms upstairs, Albert Wesker was casually collecting five sets of pistols while four guards remained unconscious on the floor. Seeing her, the older man nodded in acknowledgement of her presence while he tucked one of the pistols in his belt and stuffed the other four firearms underneath the mattress of the only bed there.

"My first massacre. Wonderful", she commented, a remark which received a glare from the older man that nonverbally told her that she had no one but herself to blame for having been privy to this situation.

"That is not for discussion now, Miss Warren", he finally uttered as he moved past her while proceeding back to the staircase that led down, "You will have to excuse me. I have an appointment to keep in the basement".

Silently continuing to the ground floor below, and then more carefully using the narrow, curving staircase that led to the basement, with the Desert Eagle at the ready, Wesker reached that bottom step and crouched before he spun around to face the beginning of the lowest level of the house. It was only now he understood that the majority of the events in this house actually took place in the basement, while the two upstairs floors were kept with a minimum amount of furniture and importance. Here, on the other hand, Wesker spotted a hallway that was decorated with wallpaper as well as two closed doors, one to his right and the second directly ahead.

The three sentries who were standing outside the second doorway were armed with assault rifles instead of the standard-issue handgun, which indicated to him that the information he had been given was correct. All three guards reacted in different amounts of speed, levelling their rifle in response to spotting him, and every one of them was struck in the torso with a flathead round before being able to take a good aim. The three individuals were thrown back as a spreading puddle of red appeared on their uniform, two of them having been hit in the heart while the third was struck through the left lung. So with two fatalities who were possibly dead even before they came to rest on the floor, Wesker marched towards the third foot soldier. That man was still gasping for air and failing in his efforts to breathe, even though he still attempted to lift his assault rifle in a last-ditch attempt to defend whoever was behind the door he guarded. The last sight he saw was that of the man in the shades standing over him and pointing the barrel of the Desert Eagle down at his face, before Wesker pulled the trigger once and the guard's head exploded after the silenced firearm politely coughed.

Unknown to the STARS leader, Shakahnna had placed her eyes behind her palm to keep from having to witness the last execution, repeatedly mumbling that she didn't like any of what she was seeing. But Wesker didn't hear her comment as he eagerly kicked through the door on his own right, waving the Desert Eagle inside, and finding an empty chamber there, though one that was much fancier than the bedroom upstairs, with a more lavish bed, a wide screen television set and a personal computer that waited on a small cupboard.

Quickly exiting this room, the older man then kicked through the second closed door that the three guards had died protecting, swiftly moving to the side of the entryway in case whoever was on its other side opened fire. Upon hearing no attacks, Wesker re-positioned his body at the exactly middle of the open doorway, visually inspecting the work station that was there, between the fax machine, phone, shredder, television set with attached VCR and DVD player, and several files and dossiers. But what truly caught the Police captain's attention and brought a smile to his face for the first time in several days was the image of a cowering vice president Claymont who was trying to hide behind the only chair in the room. That sight alone was enough to partly help the man in the shades become more physically relaxed.

"Claymont…", Wesker sarcastically threw his arms wide at an angle over his shoulders, pointing the Desert Eagle towards the ceiling as a result.

A smirk which could only be described as wicked, slowly infecting his face, widened as he entered the room, and the older man gasped in more fear.

"So, my old friend", the man in the shades continued in a rare, jovial manner, "How have matters been progressing? Suitable, I hope, since you're about to forfeit your life for your misdealings with me".

Without thinking about his actions, but only by reacting via instinct, the older vice president bolted out from behind the chair and made a desperate bid to dash out of the room's only exit, which mandated that he runs past Wesker's position. In response to the attempted escape, the STARS agent used a free hand to grip the lower half of Claymont's face, grabbing him on both sides of the mouth, and roughly threw the older man down and backwards. The result was that Claymont's upper body swung violently towards the floor, and the rest of his figure soon followed suit, and the vice president felt the back of his head connecting with the unforgiving floor before his entire body came to rest in a horizontal position.

As he screamed out in pain, Shakahnna entered the room, warily walking past the dead guards outside, and witnessed Wesker then bending down and gripping Claymont by the throat and single-handedly yanking the petrified man back to his feet. The man in the shades then dragged his target across the room before forcefully placing him into a seated position in the only chair there. Then, Wesker removed the silencer from the tip of the Desert Eagle, placed the additional mechanism into one of his pockets, and finally pressed the barrel of the firearm past Claymont's lips until he shoved several inches of metal into the older man's mouth.

"Now, in case you're ignorant, there's some information you want to relay to me", the STARS leader informed his captive audience while Claymont only moaned in response and kept his eyes wide open in fear, though not daring to lift his hands to ease the pain at the back of his skull.

"You may enter", Wesker addressed Shakahnna from several feet away, careful to avoid using her name even now, "Understand, executives have little tolerance to being manhandled, so dear Claymont requires some time to recover from this treatment".

"Executives?", the redhead repeated to herself as she moved further into the cluttered and busy chamber, only then her countenance transforming into one of sheer outrage towards the vice president, "YOU ordered those horrible cleaners to be'd having me killed, didn't you!".

As a result of the teenager's unexpected outburst, Wesker withdrew the barrel of the weapon out of his target's mouth, and partly turned to look in the redhead's direction, wondering what the female was talking about. In an even bigger surprise, a somewhat calmer Claymont addressed the teenager in his own turn, probably finding it easier to be his usual self when speaking to anyone other than the irate blonde-haired man in front of him.

"Shakahnna Warren…", the vice president sighed along with a small cough as he then returned his gaze towards the large man standing over him, not wanting to be struck for not paying attention.

Wesker, on the other hand, felt a cacophony of confusion as to what the two individuals were talking about, especially since Claymont addressed her with such familiarity.

"How could you know about that?", the older captive continued addressing the young woman while remaining seated.

"I know plenty", Shakahnna countered, remembering how brutal those cleaners were to fight against, and how efficiently all evidence of their existence was literally melted away afterwards, "Where the _fuck's_ my family be?".

"I have no idea", Claymont calmly informed them both, "We never figured out where _you_ came from, never mind anyone that you were associated with".

"So what _do_ you know?", Wesker interjected while pressing the muzzle of his weapon against the older man's heart, "As quaint as it is that you two have already been formally introduced, I would beg your pardon, Shakahnna, because there are pressing issues which simply cannot wait".

He looked down at the balding man, his face contorting with a mixture of anger and disgust, and he continued his verbal indictment of the supervisor's many crimes.

"After working for Umbrella for the better part of two decades, and you specifically for the last three years, one would expect…", Wesker began the lecture that he had practiced and imagined in his mind for dozens of times in the last few hours.

"Ex-squeeze me!", there was an indignant voice in the room that did not belong to him, which prompted both himself and Claymont to temporarily look towards Shakahnna as the surprise registered on her face.

Turning back to Claymont, Wesker continued talking as if he hadn't even been interrupted.

"I would expect a certain degree of reliance upon this partnership." the RPD agent continued talking even while the teenager marched towards his position, "But when I break into _your _labs, I witness the aftermath from years of human experiments, deceit over outbreaks that threatened the city, and _still_ threaten the…".

It was the last thing he got to say before the redhead gripped his upper arm and twisted him so he was facing her. That, in turn, prompted the older man to switch the hand that was carrying the Desert Eagle, so the weapon could remain pointed down at his captive even though he wasn't looking at Claymont any more.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaah!", she yelled out loud enough while locking eyes with him to finally get his interest, since being aghast at the news that he had been part of Umbrella obviously had not been worthy of acquiring his attention.

"Yeah, there IS being supposed to be some kind of trust, be's doesn't there?", she stuttered in sheer agitation, "_You _be's in on it too? I mean, him I would expected, but _you_!".

The scowl that followed on her face should've been an indication that he couldn't procrastinate this conversation. But that's exactly what Wesker did when he simply replied "Be quiet", and then twisted his arm out of her grip and returned his attention to their prisoner.

"As I was saying, _boss_, I'd love to hear the defence which you think will clear your name", the man in the shades continued ignoring the increasingly hostile look from the redhead, and appearing to be enjoying the stress he placed on Claymont a little too much, as the older man winced every few seconds, "As far as I'm concerned, you and your kin are responsible for _every_ deceased STARS member and Raccoon citizen who fell prey to your carelessness. When this young lady became suspicious of your activities and began investigating the Warrens' mansion, she was kidnapped by your hired guns and held against her will for _more_ than two weeks. But considering she's alive and well right now, thanks not to yourself but to the many members of STARS who risked or lost their lives to uncover your web, her ordeal is not the worst of your crimes, considering how many lives were forfeit".

The vice-president's facial reaction to the last bit of his speech may have been smug if the middle-aged man had been anywhere else but here, but he at least thought he had an advantage when Wesker clearly didn't have the full picture. So Claymont bent his head at the neck to get a better view of the teenager who stood by his tormentor, locking eyes with Shakahnna's now guilty face until she looked back down at him.

"You didn't tell him… Did you?", a small hint of a smile appeared on his face, as he believed that Wesker's other personality would surely resurface once the RPD captain was told of who had actually kidnapped the redhead.

Appearing even guiltier, Shakahnna stayed silent and looked partly down at her feet, no longer wishing to maintain eye contact with him.

"Oh, you haven't? Tsk, tsk", the arrogant captive countered.

"Would you care to elaborate as to what is so amusing!", Wesker shot back, suppressing his desire to punch the frail man, but only because he wanted to save the personal violence for when he was pressuring his former superior for information, "Listen, _vermin_, I have questions, you have answers. You will give me them, or I will cut your fingers off one at a time".

He noticed the scared expression on Shakahnna's face as the teenager backed away from him, but he didn't understand her fear, thinking to himself that her behaviour was most contrary.

"First, how long has Umbrella been conducting these experiments?", Wesker kept his eyes locked on Claymont's face as he barked the questions, "Second, which of the _many _labs Umbrella owns worldwide participate in those? And third, there's a name from two years ago, Richard Rodriguez, who was _supposed_ to receive a heart transplant at Raccoon Hospital after having been shot by an armed robber. What have you parasites done to him?".

Claymont stammered for a few instants, suddenly surprised that Wesker's current personality was still in charge, but also because he had no idea who the name that the captain had mentioned belonged to. Seeing his perceived lack of cooperation, Wesker swiftly withdrew a pair of handcuffs from his uniform and restrained Claymont's right wrist to the chair itself, and then grinned while he withdrew a 10-inch long, STARS-issue hunting knife.

"Shall we start at the bottom and work our way up?", the man in the shades asked while holstering his Desert Eagle and placing a firm grip on the currently-panicking older man's wrist against the flat side of the chair with his free hand, while his other grip brought the sharp end of the blade against Claymont's pinkie finger.

"You're asking the wrong questions, youngster! You're asking the WRONG QUESTIONS!", the vice president's voice began betraying how fearful he felt, even as Shakahnna was now coming back towards the two men.

"Your double-talk and riddles will do you no good here, old man", Wesker angrily articulated as he was ready to push down with the blade and sever his wheezing enemy's smallest finger.

Except that another hand gripped his own and pulled the knife upwards and away from the prisoner's finger. Looking up towards the source of the interference, Wesker spotted a clearly distressed Shakahnna as the young woman shook her head several times.

"Nu uh", she shook her head further, "No! Just… No, Weskie, _don't_".

An angrier than normal Wesker pulled his arm free from her grip.

"Shakahnna! A chance like this will never present itself again!", he barked back loud enough to have her shrink back from him, the fact that she silently began sobbing to herself not calming him in the least as he returned to addressing the restrained man, "I will leave it to your discretion. A quick death or a slow and painful one. It will depend entirely on just how co-operative you are feeling _right now_".

The leader of STARS gripped Claymont's handcuffed hand and pressed it against a flat section of the chair again, prompting his enemy to gasp louder.

"I need to go outside for a minute", the young woman's eyes were streaming and her chest heaved as she continued backing out of the room, knowing that she couldn't keep quiet much longer, "I can't have a part in this, whatever you _say_ you have to do".

So Shakahnna turned in place, wrapped her arms around herself and walked out of the room, proceeding towards the staircase that led upstairs, but also knowing that she wouldn't be able to remain outside of that basement as soon as the screams inevitably started, regardless of who the captive was.

From Wesker's point of view, he said nothing as she left the room, temporarily feeling glad that she was leaving, and allowing him to work without any more interference. Perhaps an apology would be required at a later date for his behaviour, but an act of contrition was much better than knowing that he didn't extract all possible useful data out of Claymont, or worse yet, having let the vice president go unharmed.

"Anything you would care to share?", the RPD captain demanded again, paying no attention to the hysterical man's desperate shaking of his head, as the knife was brought against Claymont's pinkie finger and he began cutting the digit, causing the captive to begin screaming.

Except that a second, female howl then joined Claymont's yell, making Wesker stop the torture he was inflicting so as to figure out where the new cry was coming from. The realization that the voice belonged to Shakahnna Warren caused him to quickly turn his attention away from the steel that the captive was restrained to and walked a few steps towards the door that led out of this room. It was only then that he noticed that the teenager's yells weren't emanating from the end of the basement hallway, where she had gone, but from deeper within the same room where he currently stood.

Confused, the Umbrella mole turned back around, his eyes revealing the bewilderment he felt as Shakahnna's distressed voice kept being heard from a spot that was several feel behind where Claymont was seated. Despite the fact that the hunting knife was still in his right hand, he felt the urge to reach for his Desert Eagle, though he suppressed that instinct since he told himself he had nothing to fear.

Wesker's mind trailed off when he realized that Shakahnna's screams were being heard from a television set that was partly faced away from where he currently stood, and that the set had been playing the entire time he was in the room, except it hadn't been audible until this point. His throat tightened when a sense of anxiety overtook him at the sight of the back of that television set that was resting on a wheeled stand. That inanimate object was somehow ominous now, despite the fact that he had been relatively calm even while taking on an Umbrella hideout full of fifteen armed guards just a few minutes ago. So why should a piece of electronic equipment affect him so?

Giving in to his impulse, the man in the shades holstered the hunting knife and withdrew the Desert Eagle in its place, though he kept the weapon aimed towards the floor via his right hand. Using his left fingers, he took a hold of the top of the television set and slowly spun it around, until the colour screen was easily seen by both himself and his prisoner. The cassette within the VCR that was located underneath the set was clearly playing on the screen, and the scene it showed was an image of Wesker himself, but dressed in a bloodied white lab coat, and with Shakahnna Warren strapped on her back to a gurney in the background. The teenager's head was drooped against her right shoulder, one of her hands neatly missing a finger, and the wound was bleeding profusely on top of the steel table itself before leaking blood onto the floor below. In addition, her face was sporting a black and swollen left eye and a brutally deep knife cut that started at the right side of her cheek and trailed down to her solar plexus. In addition, the skin on her legs had been burned off, most likely due to having come into contact with some sort of chemical exposure, and a patch of skin was missing from her stomach, which altogether turned her once-white clothes into red.

Captain Wesker watched himself on the television screen as the doppelganger was washing his bloodied hands as he carried a look of malicious delight on his face. The man in the screen then dried his hands and finally turned his attention to the camera.

"Praytell, Elena, how is your eldest?", the Wesker on camera spoke with perfect eloquence, "Such a fine young woman. I _do_ hope she enjoyed the present that I have so carefully prepared for her. As for your younger child, she was _most_ ungrateful for my hospitality. But bad manners will always be punished".

A wicked leer spoke louder than his words.

"It's a pity that we now must part ways, and it will be interesting to see how you fare as a rival when you do not have the protection of White Umbrella, so I bid you adieu. As for my respected superior, I'm sure our paths will cross again one day in the future, and should that be the case, perhaps you'll be lucky enough to enjoy the same kind of generosity that miss Warren has experienced".

With that, the Wesker on tape gave a sarcastic, two-fingered salute, and captain Wesker couldn't bare to watch any more, so he gave the television set an angry kick. That sent the box, the VCR and the wheeled stand flying into the wall behind it, before both pieces of electronic equipment shattered into several pieces.

At the commotion, the red-headed teenager thundered back into the basement room, making her way past the broken doorway, and visually examined Claymont first and Wesker second before keeping her gaze on the STARS captain. Even before she got a chance to ask what was the cause of the noise, the restrained prisoner spoke up, the old man's familiar grin back on his face, as he suddenly felt better now that his tormentor had been dealt a bad hand. He thought that surely, this information would be enough to throw Wesker's plan off-course. It had to be.

"What, you don't enjoy mementos of your leisure activities, youngster?", he smirked further as he looked at the blonde man, then towards Shakahnna, "We were just watching some home videos. Did you enjoy starring in them? Albert here was just telling me that _he_ certainly did".

"HE'S LYING!", Wesker ignored his prisoner as he turned towards his companion and yelled the response in his defence, the idea that she must've known everything that happened on the tape not occurring in his state of mind.

"It's OK, I know, sweetheart", the young woman gently placed her hand on his elbow in an effort to calm him down, suddenly wishing that she had taken him aside and spoken to him at length about what she wished to mention, as opposed to having him find out from the despicable person who was tied to the chair and enjoying the spectacle, even now.

No wonder that little bitch Claymont got so high up in the Umbrella corporate ladder so well, she told herself, before turning towards the middle-aged man and delivering a weak right hook punch to his jaw, snapping his face to the side and splitting his lip in the process.

"That doesn't be's nice", she informed the injured vice-president much like a disappointed parent speaking to their child.

"Shak, what's going on?", Wesker ignored the moan of pain that his captive emitted, staring down at the younger teenager as a tightness formed around his chest that he wasn't familiar with, and disliked very much, "What I saw in there wasn't possible. And granted I've seen _many_ impossible things in the last two days, between you as a ghost and dreams of my own murder at the hands of monsters that can't _exist_. But none of those were caught on camera".

Shakahnna could only stammer as she repeatedly tried to come up with an answer and failed, at which time Wesker unknowingly holstered his weapon and took her hand within his left palm before covering it with his right hand.

"That couldn't _possibly_ have been you, correct?", the man's voice shook for the first time since the younger woman had known him, and she could only imagine what his eyes looked like behind the shades when she was staring up into the glasses, "It also could not have been me. It could _not_ have been. They made some kind of realistic wax figure and coupled it with a computer generated image created in my likeness. Yes. That makes more sense than... Than...".

For the first time in his life, Wesker couldn't continue talking when he had things he wished to say. He wanted to continue denying that what he had just witnessed was real, and he had more possibilities to explain how and why such a hoax could be perpetrated. So why weren't any of those methods and reasons being mentioned any more? Why was he keeping quiet? And why had he been so afraid to look into the television screen in the first place when it was just a fake film strip of something that never happened because he couldn't possibly do such a thing? His mind tripped him up with incessant questioning.

Shakahnna felt herself getting more and more emotional as the seconds ticked by and the uncomfortable silence continued, the huge amount of tension on Wesker's face and body constantly there as the RPD agent kept waiting for her to agree with him, and not getting what he wanted. Her grief reached the point where she felt tears coming down her eyes and she started sobbing, so she instinctively withdrew her hand out of his, without realizing that it was the one act she could've done to make Wesker feel worse, as she only did so in order to cover her mouth with her palm without thinking about it.

It was several moments later, after more crying and drying her eyes that she finally managed to utter anything.

"I'm sorry, Weskie", she began saying through her lessening sobs, "I'm _so_, so, so, so sorry. I _wanted_ to tell you. I _should've_ told you before this. I just didn't, didn't be's knowing, knowing how to... how to tell you that when I was... when...".

"Tell me what?", the shaded man's voice had relaxed somewhat, though the motion of his chest indicated that he was breathing in and out much deeper than before, "That tape is clearly a forgery, Shak. That little fuck there is lying to us, trying to divide and conquer so as to distract us from killing him like he knows we will. That he knows he deserves. And it's working, isn't it!".

Wesker turned his irate attention back to Claymont as he finished talking.

"But it won't work, old man", he hissed through clenched teeth, wishing he felt as confident in his stance as he sounded, and not even knowing how sure he appeared to his audience, "I told you before - no twist of fate will save you now. You _will_ receive the punishment you deserve, Did you really believe some mind games would keep me from you? After watching one of only two friends being ripped apart by Cerberus that _you_ helped loosen, and you took the other one away from me. You should know, old man, that the only way to avoid my wrath would be a cyanide pill".

"What? Weskie, what be's you meaning?", Shakahnna followed through, not understanding what the STARS agent mentioned.

"That was not real, was it, Shak?", Wesker switched his gaze back towards her, "It couldn't have been. Firstly, I didn't do _any_ of that. Secondly, that figure on the tape was missing a finger. Look at your hands, Shak. Your hands are fine".

He smoothly withdrew his Desert Eagle again, turning the attention back towards his most hated enemy, and pressing the barrel against Claymont's forehead.

"So, before we were interrupted, I _do_ believe you were going to provide me with some enjoyment", he continued, eager to have the teenager stay quiet, so he would be correct in his assertion that she wasn't the person on the tape, as long as she didn't refute what he had just said.

The fact that the young woman started crying when he asked her the question was irrelevant. She had suffered a trauma and was still physically exhausted, but all she had to do was stay silent and say nothing, and Wesker could continue in his righteous indictment of Claymont's crimes and even release some of the pent-up aggression that had been building up inside him since the Alpha helicopter landed in the forest on that fateful night.

He just had to keep himself from looking straight at her, and then she'd prove him correct.

She had to.

"It wasn't you, Weskie", he heard her whisper from behind him, and while the words sounded positive enough, the tone she used indicated that she had more to say, and he wouldn't like the rest of her statement, "It just be'd someone else who lives in your body".

Wesker's heart raced, and he froze in place as he started counting the beats he could hear in his own chest. He had counted up to thirty beats without saying anything, when Shakahnna interrupted the silence by calling out his name again. He tried to think of some form of appropriate response to her summons, but after several more dozen heartbeats, all he could manage to do was keep staring at Claymont's ugly face and being unable to return to looking at the young woman.

"Yes?", he finally asked without changing his gaze towards her.

"What did you be's meaning about your friend who gotted rippted up?", she quietly questioned while looking at his back, suspecting that she wasn't going to like his answer any more than he was enjoying the replies she provided for him.

At least then, captain Wesker managed to turn around and folded his arms across his chest while the handgun remained in his right grip.

"Joseph was the first to die when STARS Alpha team's helicopter landed outside the Umbrella labs", he flatly announced, keeping the number of words used in his statement to a minimum, omitting the details of agent Frost's death as well as the fact that one of the many reasons they had flown to that forest was because of their effort to search for her.

Not surprisingly, the film of tears that was covering both her eyes and were being barely kept at bay flooded forth again, the teenager crying for a second time in the last few minutes. So Shakahnna pressed both palms against her face and sobbed while her body curled in the corner of the room that was closest to where she was standing.

Part of Wesker's mind prodded at him to try to comfort her, as unfamiliar as that emotion was, while another part of his mind overruled that initial instinct and told him that he'd have plenty of time to console Shakahnna later, after Claymont was dealt with. So the RPD captain left her where she was, for now, and breathed in and out heavily as he slowly turned back to deal with the restrained vice president, knowing that what the teenager had said about her ordeal was true, though he still didn't understand the full meaning of her words. But he expected to take his time and allow her to inform him of all the details soon in the future, no matter how uncomfortable he found the subject.

As long as he got the answers he wanted from Claymont first.

"Question number one to save yourself a lot of screaming, old man", he announced to anyone who was interested in listening, not even bothering to threaten the vice president with bodily harm any more, as he assumed the implication was there, "And please try to remember what I ask, as I _so_ tire of having to repeat myself. How long have you been conducting these types of experiments behind the government's back?".

"_Behind_...?", Claymont chuckled, though in a more nervous fashion than before, his nemesis wasn't so distraught that he forgot about the interrogation, "_Behind_ the government's back? Kid, the federal government knew what Umbrella was all about since the beginning. In fact, why do you think we got our funding?".

"Did I mention that there'd be a penalty for lying?", Wesker stated as he holstered the firearm and withdrew the hunting knife, "Seems as though I need to emphasize that point. Now, one more time, and should you attempt to thwart me with any more untruths again, I am sure you are aware that there are _many_ body parts that can be removed slowly and without killing you".

"Wake up, youngster!", the vice-president countered, frustrated that even the truth was bringing him closer to the threatened torture, "Do you really think we have a trillion dollar budget because Uncle Sam cares that much about antibiotics and for research to protect its cannon fodder from germ warfare? Our federal contract was to provide the government with viruses to be used as weapons and infected monsters that don't infect others upon contact, but are just violent instead. That way, these biological weapons can be used to wipe out every soldier in the battlefield and also be used as distractions whenever the sheep within the public begins to catch up on to the government's corruption. Every time a high ranking government officer's caught with his pants down and controversy's created, a hunter or a mere Cerberus would be unleashed. At least that was the plan. That allows the monster to make news with its carnage, and then the government would kill it, thus making people be afraid and forget the corruption scandal. If a problem doesn't exist, then the government just creates it if needed. What do you think the biggest reason is for wars being started? _That's_ our specialty, youngster. You yourself were in a position of relative authority. How could you not see that? If you wish to blame anybody, then blame yourself for your naivety".

"Do you really think it is appropriate for someone in your position to make accusations, _boss_?", Wesker countered, having no problem speaking over the young woman's soft cries in the distance, "And of course I know the answer to your question - greed over labour and natural resources".

"Believe what you like", the older man followed through, "Just like you can feel free to feed yourself the bullshit where you're better than me, or even better than that psychotic loose cannon who takes over whenever you can't handle the truth. But deep down, we both know the reality of it, don't we, youngster? And that reality is that you're _not_ better than anyone here. You're about to kill me just like you killed everyone else in this house to _get_ to me, didn't you? Simply because you wanted to get your hands on me. We both kill others to get what we want. There was definitely a reason why you fit in Umbrella's rank so well".

Claymont followed through with laughter, which he thought was the perfect suffix to end such a great comeback with. He was still chuckling to himself when Wesker bent down, forced the older man's hand against the flat side of the chair, and then used the knife to slice Claymont's pinkie finger off with one shove against the blade. The result was that the severed digit fell off the prisoner's hand and landed on the floor amid a small pool of blood as more crimson poured out of the wound, and Claymont's laughter turned to painful howling instantly.

From her end, Shakahnna screamed once in reaction to the wound that had been inflicted on the middle-aged executive, and while Wesker turned around to inspect her state, he then paid full attention towards the man who was confined to the chair instead. After all, the teenager could be helped indefinitely once he got all the information that he wanted. As it was, Wesker had already learned one very crucial fact about his former employer's benefactor, as he found it easy to believe what Claymont had said about the government's role in Umbrella's criminal activities.

"I would thank you for the valuable lore", the RPD captain continued talking in a calm manner, completely detached from the violence he had just committed, even as Claymont desperately tried to ease his wheezing due to not having another severed finger if he didn't pay close attention to what was being said, "So you may take my second question to be an indication that I'm satisfied with your performance. That's how it will be. You give me what I want, I ask you something else. You refuse me, you _lose_ something else. I hope this isn't too complicated for you to follow. Is it?".

No answer from the injured vice-president, only more gasping for air, and moaning in pain, as he looked up towards his tormentor. In response to which, Wesker bent down closer to the chair and placed the sharp end of the knife against the thumb of the same hand who had already lost a digit.

"_Is_ it?", the STARS leader pressed on.

"Yes! YEEES!", Claymont finally shrieked back.

"So, second question", the interrogator let go of the thumb, stood back up to his full height and relaxed, "Richard Rodriguez. What do you know about him?".

"I don't...", the older man caught his breath and attempted to speak again through the agony in his hand, "I don't know who that is".

"No", Wesker crossed his arms in front of his chest, casually inspecting the ceiling as the bloody hunting knife protruded underneath his left armpit, "I suppose you wouldn't be personally acquainted with anyone who ended up in that folder. I am sure you are familiar to which list of names I refer though. Containing a couple of thousand names, the 'Fodder' folder draws attention to itself by its numbers alone. However, I digress. I had interrupted an armed robbery where Mr Rodriguez was shot, about three years ago now. I personally guaranteed that he'd get a heart transplant. Sound familiar?".

"Oh... Of course", Claymont remembered, "You were quite pissed when _that_ happened. Or should I say, your _brother_ was".

At the mention of the word to describe the one person whose identity he was dreading, captain Wesker considered the idea of cutting off another finger, but ultimately decided against it since the older captive had begun talking. And Wesker was more interested in what Claymont had to say than hearing the vice-president scream further. At least for now.

"We had been told that... that _friend_ that you made overnight at the hospital was scheduled to die quite soon", the chained man recalled, angrily pronouncing every word, "So Umbrella had no interest in him. Instead, our plan was to have the person who shot him be brought to the labs and be experimented on. The shooter was planned to officially die from an infection before he was transferred to us. But you already _knew_ that, didn't you? You must've if you already saw Fodder. Research is what drives this company, and research is meaningless without experiments, youngster. So the shooter was supposed to be in the same boat as all the homeless or runaway volunteers we find that we use to further the research. Except that _you_ had to go and screw things up by executing the shooter so Rodriguez could have his heart transplant. So the shooter was useless as an experiment after you finished him off, thus, your friend, this Rodriguez fellow, had to take his place. It was the only way we could calm your brother down after he found out how you cost him a live person to work on. So after the operation, Rodriguez was brought to us and, yes, experimented on. Like every other volunteer, he was dead a few days later".

A silence followed, with the only noises heard being the gasps for air along with occasional moans of pain from the captive and the constant crying of the girl in the corner. Throughout it all, Wesker didn't say a word, opting to look down at the man who was restrained in the chair, his calm appearance deceiving his antagonist about the torrent of emotions he was experiencing. The STARS captain felt anger at the news that he had been given, then shock at the relevance it had against what he had believed to have happened to the patient he knew three years ago. And then finally sadness that, despite his best efforts to the contrary, all he managed to do in the end was give Richard Rodriguez the worst fate possible. Ironically, if he had left the victim of the armed robbery alone, then Rodriguez would've died in Raccoon City Hospital, most likely having passed away in his sleep and while being made as comfortable as possible by the hospital staff. Instead, Wesker had guaranteed that the last several days of that man's life were hell on earth.

At last, after a break of saying nothing for a few minutes, the man in the shades eventually sighed and then cleared his throat, thinking to himself that there was no point in blaming his well-meaning but very misguided actions just yet. He'd have plenty of time to do that after this interrogation was over. So he set his sights on his seated enemy again.

"You'll be relieved to learn that this is the last question", he informed the detainee, "It will determine _how_ you expire. So for your sake, I can only advise that you comply to the best of your ability. The names and addresses of all the Umbrella labs who have any part in the process we've been discussing so far. In no particular order, as long as it's labs that you have knowledge of their practices, old man. It will put my photographic memory to good use. So let's begin, shall we?".

Having stopped crying, Shakahnna had dried her eyes and looked over to where the conversation was taking place in the middle of the cluttered chamber. She noticed that Claymont's facial expression changed when Wesker made his last demand, as the older captive stopped appearing scared and actually cracked into indignance, having had enough of feeling scared.

"Youngster, you can _go to hell_!", the prisoner barked back, veins protruding from the side of his neck as he angrily pronounced every word, "You think that you, a little grunt, can come in here and expect me to betray my company for the sake of living ten minutes longer? Your generation sickens me! No resolve, no morals, no loyalty, and you'd sell out your _own kind_ for the right amount of money! Well, I got news for you _children_. I will not betray Lord Spencer's memory no matter what, ESPECIALLY not to a snivelling little psychotic who masquerades as a cop while at night moonlighting as the most vicious and sadistic little _fuck_ I've ever met! That's you! THAT'S YOU!".

Shakahnna flinched for a moment in her corner of the room as the prisoner yelled out at the top of his lungs at that point, but she then began inching her way towards Wesker since she could imagine what came next, and she wished to stop it, for the sake of her friend more so than anyone else.

"Me, I just take part in these activities because that's what Umbrella requires me to do, for the advancement of the company", Claymont continued ranting, either ignoring or oblivious to the fact that Wesker calmly holstered his Desert Eagle and withdrew the short-barrelled revolver that had been strapped to his ankle and was used as a secondary weapon ever since he lost his Glock.

The STARS captain emptied the live rounds out of the smaller handgun on the floor, and then replaced one usable bullet into the firearm.

"But YOU!", the captive continued ranting, "You went OUT of your way to enjoy cutting those subjects open while they were screaming! And you have the balls to come and speak to your betters like that! I was doing this long before you were born, you ill-mannered brat! And no matter WHAT you two think you're going to do to me, I'll go to my grave KNOWING that Umbrella will not rest until it hunts you down and makes you pay TEN times over for what you're doing to me!".

The vice-president began panting after his long, irate speech was over, as it had been the most impassioned he had been during the whole second half of his life. He was still catching his breath when he noticed Wesker spinning the small revolver's cylinder before slamming it inside the firearm.

"Old man, as much as I would love to see you get the justice you deserve, I'm afraid I simply don't have the time to stay here and dish out punishment that's appropriate for you", the man in the shades explained as he undid the safety mechanism of the revolver, "I must vacate the premises and go begin work on exterminating your kind and cleansing the mess you made. Care for roulette?".

Wesker extended his arm and shoved the barrel of the small revolver against Claymont's forehead and pulled the trigger once, causing a small click to be heard as the cylinder was blank at that point. In reaction to the deadly game of chance that he was being made to endure, the vice-president harshly winced as he closed his eyes. Sensing that the first pull of the trigger hadn't fired the bullet, the RPD agent then moved the revolver so the barrel was pointing to the captive's stomach.

It was at this point that Shakahnna yelped and took a hold of the arm that Wesker was using to control the weapon, and pulled that arm by his side before curling herself around it while the revolver pointed to the floor between them.

"Nuhuh! NU-huh!", the redhead vigorously shook her head to indicate that she didn't want her friend to go through with this execution.

"That's enough, miss Warren!", Wesker pushed her away, using as much self-restraint as he could muster to keep his reaction to her polite, considering she was interfering with something that he had thought about doing almost constantly in the last two days. Despite what he considered to be gentle, still resulting in his last friend being sent staggering backwards.

Having removed her from hanging onto his arm and then ushering her to a part of the room where she hopefully wouldn't interfere any more, the older man then pointed the handgun at Claymont's stomach via his extended arm and pulled the trigger a second time. The prisoner gasped as another click sounded out of the weapon.

"I really don't like this, Weskie!", Shakahnna exclaimed from her side of the room as she continued watching the tormenting game that Wesker played with his enemy, but she remained where she was standing rather than try to physically interfere a second time.

"We've already established that fact, miss Warren", the STARS agent countered without looking in her direction as he moved the handgun so it was pointed towards Claymont's groin, who managed to scream as Wesker pulled the trigger again, and only heard a third click as the cylinder continued being blank.

"Must be your lucky day, old man", the person in the shades commented as he then lifted the revolver so it was back to pointing at Claymont's stomach, and ignored the middle-aged man's hysterics as he pulled the trigger a fourth time.

Unlike before, a bullet fired out of the muzzle and struck the vice-president in the middle of his waistline this time, causing both the prisoner and the young woman to scream out simultaneously. A red mark appeared on Claymont's stomach and quickly spread to a circular, crimson stain underneath the expensive shirt, as the detainee first howled in pain and then had liquid gore violently spilling out of his mouth as he choked on his own blood. His body shook from repeated, uncontrollably spasms as he fell out of the seat, but remained restrained to the middle of the piece of furniture due to the handcuffs that still attached his right wrist to the chair.

Most of Claymont's figure collapsed on the floor, except for his right arm which remained raised at a perpendicular angle, and coughed blood again before finally stopping all movement and remained still in the middle of a pool of his own bodily fluid. Having witnessed the gory scene, Wesker grinned to himself while placing the small revolver back into its ankle holster, and then withdrew his trusty Desert Eagle for the purpose of keeping the weapon by his side when examining every document within this safehouse. He then casually stepped over his former superior's remains and began reviewing the many pieces of paper that were on the table and shelves that lined the rest of this room. He didn't notice Shakahnna while the teenager hurriedly approached Claymont's corpse until she knelt down next to the body. Reaching for the middle-aged man's torso, the redhead touched it an instant before she started convulsing herself. That grabbed Wesker's attention as the man in the shades spun around to see what was the matter.

The RPD captain dropped the paperwork he was reviewing on the table and holstered his weapon, thinking that the young woman was either in distress or having a medical emergency. But before he could even ask what was wrong, he spotted a green mist that came out of her mouth and gently breezed over the corpse before being absorbed into it. Wesker narrowed his eyes in suspicion as Shakahnna stopped trembling, and it was only a few seconds later that Claymont actually came back to life by gasping for air and trying to sit up. The STARS agent's eyes widened as a flood of memories invaded his consciousness, with him suddenly realizing that whatever extraordinary event he just witnessed had also happened to him a relatively short time ago. Contrary to his previous assertion, the nightmare about coming across a nine-foot tall monster who had invoked his fear before impaling him wasn't a dream at all, but a recollection of how he had actually been attacked. Wesker also remembered being lifted up into the air via the claws that the monster's hand carried, after having failed to reach for his Desert Eagle, and squirming in pain for several seconds before the nails were retracted from his abdomen.

He instinctively passed his right palm over his own stomach, noticing that his wound was gone, and then understood that it was Shakahnna's involvement that had made it possible for him to be alive now when he should've died after being knifed by that unnatural beast. Wesker leaned against the wall by his side, placing his left palm in front of his mouth, appearing as if he was in deep thought over the situation as the redhead rose to her feet and Claymont groaned in pain. But in actuality, the man in the shades was simply using that guise to cover up the fact that he was in shock after having realized the relevance of what he had just seen.

So Shakahnna Warren held the ability to bring back the dead, and Wesker sarcastically pointed out that her power to do so made perfect sense. How could he not have drawn this conclusion sooner?

Seriously, though, he quickly guessed that the redhead's capability to resurrect people was involved with her being physically near them when they died, as well as the death having been a recent event. He knew that those two factors were present when both he and Claymont had met their end. But he would have to observe or speak to the young woman about this mystery if he were to find out any sure facts about it, such as the possibility of her doing the same for individuals who had died a long time ago.

For now, though, Wesker recovered from the shock of learning about this latest development. If anything, he was grateful that his friend had such supernatural potential, as he comprehended quite well that he'd currently have been bled to death and then buried under tons of rubble if it hadn't been for her interference back at the mansion.

A dark thought crossed Wesker's mind as that idea made itself known.

Where had miss Warren been that she was able to reach him and then revive him?

He couldn't recall, and he didn't know why. All he really remembered was her crawling towards him and himself reaching out to her after the monster had eviscerated him and then vanished off to parts unknown.

Wesker effectively brushed the topic aside for now, though, as he had more pressing issues to deal with. That mainly consisted of the fact that Shakahnna's special gift, which made it possible for him to continue living and crusading against Umbrella, had also now revived the person he hated enough to kill a few minutes ago. So what to do about it now?

"Miss Warren, are you alright?", he ultimately approached her slowly so she'd notice him nearing her position.

The last thing he wished to do was to startle her. The teenager groggily climbed back to a standing position, ignoring Claymont's continuing laboured breathing as the middle-aged man had finally succeeded in sitting up on the floor. She insisted on looking downward and not meeting Wesker's gaze, almost as if she had done something punishable, so the RPD captain placed his left hand on her shoulder and kept it there until she decided to look up in his eyes.

"Miss Warren, what was that?", he then asked, realizing that the process hadn't injured her, at least not as far as he could see.

"Magic?", she responded, hopeful that the one word she answered with would explain everything to him.

"Have you done this before?", the taller man questioned next, "More specifically, had my own body been privy to this kind of event back in the mansion?".

Shakahnna returned to looking at her shoes again, which indicated to him that her answer was an affirmative one. He would have to ask her later why she felt that her power was something to be ashamed of.

"Can we go now?", Shakahnna asked after a pause of several moments where the only sound heard was Claymont's non-stop coughing and groaning in pain.

"Not just yet, miss Warren", Wesker withdrew his Desert Eagle and pointed it downward at the older man yet again, who didn't even seem to notice where he was, much less the threat he was in.

"But we be's having doned this before!", the teenager insisted.

"I suppose we have, yes", the RPD captain agreed, "And seeing as to how I do not wish to waste all of my ammunition while you mimic acts from biblical fables, please answer me a question, miss Warren. Does your power work when you are not in close proximity to the person who dies?".

"I don't be knowing", Shakahnna admitted, "The only one who .. well, seems to know stuffs is your other persona… NO! NO! I .. That prick who steals your body, I meaned! And something made out of shadows, and that don't be making sense. Does it? But that's _all_ I know. I promise".

"Then consider this to be an experiment, miss Warren", the man in the sunglasses added, "Please get out. I have more work to do, and we'll see what happens afterwards".

"But… But, Weskie…", the teenager protested, "I don't think he deserves to live. But I also don't think I have the right to make that decision".

"You aren't", Wesker corrected, "Exactly why the one who's making it is _me_".

"But that be's a technicality, Weskie!", the young lady proved to be persistent, looking at him, then back at Claymont's figure as the vice-president began opening his eyes and surveying the area around him, and then back to Wesker again, "I could be stopping you if I wanted, you know".

"You will not, though, will you?", the STARS captain answered on her behalf, feeling more certain about his point of view than she thought he should've, "What other options do you have, miss Warren? You wish to have me arrest him and brought to trial instead? You know as well as I that fiends like him are beyond the scope of any judicial system. So he is executed or he walks free. There are no other options. Would you rest easy at night, knowing that he was still working for Umbrella? You chose to come along when I advised you to stay at my cabin, _precisely_ because I knew I would have to do this if I found him here".

"Then I guess my only option is to accept my share of his blood on my hands", the young lady sighed as her head drooped and she walked towards the door that led out of the basement chamber, obviously very miserable at her lack of options.

Shakahnna's eyes flirting between the floor and her hands, still trembling slightly at the incarnadine her imagination caused her to see.

"I bet to differ, miss Warren", the older man advised as he pointed the powerful Desert Eagle towards Claymont's head, who finally gasped at the recognition of the barrel of the firearm, "This is _my_ kill and mine alone. You have no part in it, and thus no burden to bear".

"Withdrawing your hand from someone who's dangling off the edge of a cliff makes them be just as dead as if you stood on their fingers", the younger woman only replied as she walked out of the room, "But I _know_ unless we get to the root of this evil, then we don't do anything. You pull off one leaf and two more grow in its place and Claymont's….well, he's part of the core."

Insisting that he'd discuss their philosophical differences at one point in the future, Wesker sighed at having to undergo this task twice. Holstering his Desert Eagle so as to conserve its ammunition, the man in the shades reached for his former supervisor's head and grasped Claymont's skull with both hands. The older man didn't have the time to scream in pain or protest before Wesker twisted his head sharply. A snapping crack was heard as Claymont's neck broke, but before the RPD agent was even able to let go of the corpse, the vice-president's head came off from the rest of his body.

The Umbrella executive's decapitated corpse fell on the floor as his severed skull remained in Wesker's hands, who simply stared at it for a few seconds, wondering how it had been detached so easily. He soon guessed that maybe Shakahnna's resurrection had caused Claymont's figure to be more fragile than normal. But for now, he didn't care as he lazily tossed the head aside.

He had more important concerns to deal with, starting with watching the after-effects of his kill to see if any more green mist travelled from the redhead towards the corpse and re-animated it. If not, Wesker then planned to canvass this safehouse for as much information about Umbrella as possible, all the while watching his time to make sure that he worked as swiftly as possible.  
Now that his task of eliminating Claymont was complete, he had no desires to confront any more Umbrella security personnel. In fact, he felt exhausted for the very first time since before officer Chisholm had brought him a box with a severed finger in it.

And to his delight, Claymont's carcass wasn't being re-animated.

The thought of a warm bed, or even a couch, to sleep on for the next half a day sounded very tempting indeed.

Wesker sighed to himself as he turned his back to the body in the basement and began heading upstairs to where Shakahnna awaited. The chance to catch up on some essential rest would have to wait, as more chores needed to get done first.

Some things never change.


	44. Chapter 34 Sanctioned

Okay am gonna try not to get all … well girlie or anything on you here but well be'd one thousand reviews… that's cum in pants material right there and I don't know how to say thank you because I honestly don't think I could have a better bunch of people supporting me than you guys. I now am lucky enough to have some fantastic people be's (my spell-check doesn't tell me be's is wrong no more, it's king.) in my life and I can't say thank you enough. I can apologize for getting all sentimental and I do because this is something I work hard on and is nice to have people to share something so close to my heart with. Yeah yeah I know I just need a kick in the groin and I'll be back to normal. But to all my reviewers, I've a bunch of Damnation t-shirts and if you guys want one, just let me know. They aren't anything life changing but just something to show my gratitude for you taking the time to be doing it. Also wanted to do one of those thanks xyz hits type banner thankies things but well as am sure most of you are aware, my drawing is absolutely fucking awful but you never know it might appear at some point in a fit of you'll all wish you were dead. Seriously guys to the people I know and the people I don't you've been good to me and I appreciate it.

Once again. Thank you so much.

---

"Huh? Ah… AAAAH!", officer Chisholm opened his eyes and felt a headache screaming in his skull, a pain which was only made worse due to the bright light that shone in his face.

Rubbing his eyes, the young man next noticed officer Donnelly who was looking down at him, his partner's lips were moving, but Chisholm just couldn't understand what his fellow officer tried to say.

"Wh… What?", the rookie repeated as he clasped his own forehead and worked to sit up.

"Easy, dude. Try to relax", Donnelly suggested as he took a hold of the younger man's arm and helped him sit up on the couch that he had been lying on, "You've been out cold for almost an hour now".

"Where am I?", his friend moaned as he insisted on repeating his attempts to get up, until he succeeded, though with great difficulty, and a fresh wave of nausea assaulted his senses when he finished in a seated position, only to then recognize that he was inside one of the RPD lounges.

There were a few officers who were making their way past this area, though none of them were recognized by Chisholm, and none of them stopped to speak to the pair, which suited him fine since he didn't wish to be indulging in pleasantries anyway.

"The sarge said that I was to watch you and decide if you needed an ambulance or not", Donnelly sat down nearby and offered him a paper cup full of water, whose content his friend quickly gulped down, "I knew this happened because you were so tired, plus the shock probably didn't help".

"Oh, god! Where's Shak?", Chisholm crumpled the empty paper cup and let it drop on the floor next to his feet, "What the hell happened!".

"As far as I can tell, dude…", the older man sighed and, for the first time since the rookie could remember, Donnelly appeared to be thinking about the gentlest way he could deliver bad news, which by itself indicated that he was about to hear something truly awful, "Redfield and Valentine both said that basically, we're in a big pile of shit. For starters, Wesker's dead, and, oh yeah, and a fucking ratbag sellout. Joey's dead. The Bravos are all dead, except for the guy who was taken to the hospital and the chick who looked like a boy. There was no mention of Shak. These guys had their hands full just not being wiped out, that they didn't even have time to search for anyone else".

"Oh god!", Chisholm placed his face in his hands and then lowered his head towards his knees as the information registered in his mind.

"And dude, if she was there, we'll never know now", the older cop continued, not wishing to stop the process of giving him the bad news since there couldn't possibly be a less painful way of doing it, so he just wished to have the ordeal over with, "The whole place apparently blew before those few survivors made it out".

"This doesn't make sense! What about what Wesker _said_!", the young man exclaimed as he withdrew his hands from his face, "We were supposed to wait and…".

"Dude, that doesn't matter", Donnelly interrupted him by placing a hand on his upper back and locking eyes with the junior officer, "None of what Wesker said matters. He tried to kill the STARS, and he _did_ kill some of the ones who didn't make it out alive. We've all been shoved in the backburner so as to get us out of the way of whoever's been paying him this entire time".

"Fuck! FUCK!", Chisholm screamed louder as he stood up, checking to feel that his sidearm was still in place before he addressed his companion, who had remained seated, "Dude, this may be the end of my fucking career here, but I honestly don't give a fuck. I wanted to go bitch-slap the Warrens two nights ago when that fucker told me to let him handle it, and now _this_? I'll tell you what I'm gonna do, dude. I'm heading to the Warrens' place and not leaving there till I get some answers. You don't have to come with me if you don't want to. I just want Shak back".

"OK, OK", the older officer stood up in his own turn, his voice intentionally lower so as to avoid any more of the attention they were getting from passer-byes, "First off, I'm not gonna let you go alone. But second, there's no point in going there all gung-ho if we can help it, OK? To enforce anything, we need a warrant. You know that. So we'll get one and then go knock on the mayor's door".

"Dude! Shak's getting her fucking fingers cut off, as of _days_ ago, and we're sitting here jerking off about paperwork!", the less experienced RPD official was becoming more hysterical as he continued talking, "I don't even know if she's fucking alive any more, and you wanna wait more!".

"Dude, dude! Keep your voice down", Donnelly gripped his friend's shoulders with both hands, working hard to avoid a scene, "We need to work smart on this instead of rushing in there, getting nothing productive done, getting kicked out, and then being suspended. If Shak was really kidnapped by this Umbrella corporation for snooping around the Warrens' files like Joey said, then it was this same Umbrella that had Wesker bought this entire time. Wesker was a STARS captain, man, not just a regular captain, and he was theirs. If that's the case, how many others who are here do you think are in the same cosy little business arrangement? So with so many of your fellow cops looking to trip you up on purpose, without you knowing who they are, you wanna go threaten the mayor without a warrant? How is that gonna help your girlfriend, dude?".

"What other options do you have, then?", Chisholm shot back, not having listened to the advice to lower the tone of his voice, "Trying to get a damn warrant from the same corrupt fucks that _you_ just said couldn't be trusted?".

"I don't think judge Jackson's in the same boat, dude", Donnelly calmly informed him, withdrawing his hands from the novice's shoulders as he thought out loud, "We can probably get one from him".

"Jackson! He was whoring himself for the mayor's attention!", the rookie shot back, "You _do_ remember that it was him who sanctioned Shak to be adopted by the Warrens, right?".

"Well, dude, that he didn't get you fired is probably confirmation that he's an OK guy", the more experienced officer countered.

"That, by itself, doesn't prove anything", Chisholm shot back, recalling in detail how his job had been forfeit until Shakahnna spoke to her adoptive mother via phone, "There's nothing I've seen that says he's not just a puppet like every other _fuck_ you've been talking about".

"Well, I've known this guy for longer than I've known _you_, Chino", the older man informed him, "Been in court with him for at _least_ a couple of years before you came to the precinct. It's just a feeling I have with him. Just trust me on this, OK?".

For an instant, it seemed as if agent Chisholm was about to agree to the sensible plan that had been outlined for him. But then, his facial expression turned the most irate yet as he checked the status of his weapon one more time and shook his head before trying to walk away from his partner.

"Dude, dude, dude!", Donnelly gripped his arm and prevented him from leaving, wondering when the tables had turned and thus forced him to be the rational one, "Look, here's an idea. I'll call Jackson's chambers and find out where he is today. We'll go and talk to him. If he gives us the warrant, then great. If he doesn't, then we'll do your plan of charging the mayor's mansion blind and seeing where it goes, OK? At most, you'd have lost an hour. And considering that this shit has been going on for how many weeks now? An hour more isn't gonna make or break anything, right?".

Having his partner's involvement with his strategy seemed to be the idea that finally convinced the young man to accept the compromise, as Donnelly could guess that despite his anger and worry, Chisholm still wished his closest ally to be there when he confronted the mayor. So the newly-recruited officer ultimately nodded his head several times, quietly telling the older man to go ahead.

"Look, I'll go check out Jackson's schedule on the bulletin board, see if he's in court today", Donnelly walked backwards while pointing behind him, "If he's not, I'll call his chambers and tell him we need to find him and it's an emergency".

"Alright, be quick", the younger man nodded again as he started pacing the floor in front of the couch.

"Yeah, definitely", the veteran officer turned around and jogged towards his desk, where the most easily-accessible phone would be.

Donnelly just hoped that Chisholm would still be in the lobby by the time he came back.

-----------------------------

"So which room is it?", officer Chisholm quickly inspected the numbers on each door of the fifth floor of City Hall as soon as the pair of RPD officials stepped out of the elevator.

"529", Donnelly walked after the rookie as the two men proceeded down the busy hallway, passing fellow officers, lawyers, clerks and miscellaneous civilians in the process, "Glad I caught him, too. His staff said that he was getting ready to go to court while I was on the phone. When I passed the message that I needed to talk to him as a matter of life and death, he passed the message and the judge just replied with one saying that we could come right over and talk to him before he leaves".

"There!", the determined trainee pointed towards the right office doorway before eagerly opening the door and heading inside without knocking first.

"Hello? Can I help you?", a male clerk who was sitting behind the desk closest to the door greeted them after the man who was in his early 20's raised his head from the paperwork in front of him.

"Hi, officer Donnelly, this is officer Chisholm", the older agent spoke up first, anxiously addressing the person in his partner's place since he did not wish to be forcibly removed due to the rookie's attitude, "We called a little while ago and were told to come by to speak to judge Jackson".

"Ah, yes, you did", the secretary went on, "I was the one you spoke you. I _did_ tell you gentlemen to be here in five minutes. That was…".

The young man behind the desk looked at his wristwatch.

"…twelve minutes ago", he returned to addressing the two officers with a quick grin which then vanished off his face, "I _told_ you the judge was in a hurry, guys. If you had showed up a few minutes ago, you would've been able to catch a quick audience with him, but now, it's too late, I'm afraid. The court officer already called, and His Honour is scheduled to take up the bench right now. We have a packed room waiting for him, and His Honour is putting his robe on as we speak".

The heavy sigh from Donnelly and the irate stare from Chisholm did nothing to inform the clerk that his demeanour was making him unpopular.

"So when do you wish to come back?", the seated individual continued, "I can schedule you in after the judge's lunch break".

"Look, dude, we have some very urgent business with the judge that he wants to hear about. Now", the older officer leaned on the typist's desk, "You can give us the five minutes we need or you call security in here and watch us trade blows with them till one side wins. And did I mention that the judge _wants_ to see us?".

It was the clerk's turn to sigh, as he looked up into Donnelly's eyes, and then moved on to Chisholm's facial expression. He suddenly felt more uncomfortable since the younger man looked like he hadn't slept for a week, with heavy bags under his eyes, hair that was a mess, and was leaning to one side without even realizing it, the rookie's hands having been clenched into fists as he visually threw murderous daggers towards the seated man.

Not being in the mood to risk a standoff that would've delayed the judge's progress further, the law clerk picked up the phone to Jackson's adjacent room instead.

"I'll call him, but that's it", he sighed as he dialled several numbers, waiting for the judge to pick up from the other end, "If His Honor says 'no', then you're _both_ shit out of luck".

"Thank you", the older cop stood back to his full height, no longer leaning forward.

"Hello, sir?", the clerk began talking into the receiver, intentionally looking down at his desk so as to no longer have to stare up into the hostile glares he was receiving, "The two officers that I had called you in regards to earlier are here. Now, I _told_ them that they were late, but they insist that whatever they have to tell you just can't…".

A pause as the judge must've interrupted him.

"No problem, sir", the secretary agreed, "Coming right up".

The young man behind the desk hung up the phone and raised his head, deliberately locking eyes with Donnelly only.

"You guys are in luck", was the only thing he had time to say before the door to the judge's room opened and Jackson held the knob as he addressed the two officers who were waiting for him.

"Gentlemen, you wished to speak with me?", the middle-aged man who, true to what the clerk had informed them, was already dressed in the black adjudicator's robe, pulled the door open with one hand while ushering them into his office with the other arm.

"Yes, sir. Thank you", Donnelly nodded as he quickly proceeded into the second chamber, followed closely by his partner.

"Have a seat", Jackson casually pointed to the four chairs that were located on one side of his large, wooden desk, while his armchair was the sole one to be found on the other side, causing the two sides to be facing each other.

"Thanks again", the older cop uttered as all three individuals sat down in the appropriate place, any hope that Donnelly had that the judge wouldn't recognize Chisholm dissolving when the older man looked at the rookie's face and smirked in response.

Fortunately, it seemed that judge Jackson was going to say nothing in regards to his memories of the youngest man there, as he addressed Donnelly first while the grin disappeared.

"I'm not sure if my clerk had mentioned this to you gentlemen", the older man spoke first, speaking in such a way that the older cop wasn't sure if his previous smirk had vanished at all, "But court was supposed to be in session several minutes ago, and I happen to be hearing the case that's supervised by everyone's favourite probation officer. I'm sure you've seen him before – highly strung, short Armenian guy who constantly busts my chops for calling him into court and then not hearing his case right away because of all the work that he keeps insisting he's missing out on".

Jackson then knowingly turned his gaze towards Chisholm, pointing at the rookie cop with his right index finger.

"He reminds me of yourself sometimes, actually", he gave a broad smile as he finished speaking, which Chisholm didn't return, so Jackson cleared his throat and nonverbally invited either one of his guests to talk.

Chisholm opened his mouth to speak, but Donnelly cut him off by a tap on the arm, and the older man uttered what he had wished to say first.

"OK, Your Honour, here's the story", the more experienced RPD agent worked hard to not leave any details out as he pointed towards his partner, "About two weeks ago, one of officer Chisholm's here acquaintances disappeared. Now, seeing as to how this young lady was only staying with Stephen temporarily, no one thought much of it since it was assumed she simply decided to live elsewhere, particularly in the mayor's house. But recently, problems have occurred, which is why we're here".

The young man noticed a sharp change in the judge's facial expression when describing the details so far.

"Wait a minute", the older man pointed his right palm in front of his lower face and towards the pair, "Am I to understand it that this is the same young woman that the officer here had so passionately defended back in court?".

"Uh, yeah", Donnelly nodded his head, realizing that there was no point in hiding that fact from the magistrate, "Yes, it is. And she's been missing this entire time, as I said. Now, two days ago, Chisholm here received one of her index fingers in a box that was mailed to him".

"What!", the judge's reaction indicated this was not what he had expected to hear.

"Yes, sir. Exactly", the cop continued, carefully retelling the story while omitting some bits that would've only caused a complication if Jackson was informed of them, "Now, captain Wesker had received a tip regarding the girl's whereabouts yesterday, and he was the one who insisted on investigating further before we came to you, because he believed there was a link between her disappearance and the rash of strange murders that have been plaguing this city for the last several days now. Only that the captain's squad has returned, and we've been told that both himself and several officers in his unit have been killed in the investigation".

More shock registered on Jackson's face as he was being told all this for the first time, but he quickly put his feelings aside so as to continue hearing what needed to be said.

"I realize this must be quite a surprise to you, sir", Donnelly went on, thinking to himself that the meeting was going better than he had hoped, as the judge was taking them very seriously, "I'm not even sure how many officers were killed overnight myself. I think you'll be finding out the exact number along with all of us later on today".

"Oh, Jesus", the adjudicator sighed as he rubbed his eyes with both hands, "Go on".

"After the captain rushed off to investigate his information about these cannibalistic murders, sir, we _did_ compare the fingerprint from the severed finger to the one from the young woman who had been arrested about two years back", Donnelly continued, "And they matched, so we're definitely dealing with the same person. But we're here to ask you if you'll provide us with a search warrant to look through the mayor's mansion and see what the Warrens know about this kidnapping, sir".

"Really?", the older man asked while locking eyes with Donnelly first, and then Chisholm second, and then returning to the older officer.

"Yes, sir", the more experienced RPD official nodded twice while holding his breath, knowing that this was the crucial part of the conversation, "Now, I realize this is a big request to make, and considering who it's being aimed for, anyone can appreciate the seriousness of…".

"You got one", Jackson interrupted him, "I'll have Dominic type you the warrant and I'll sign it before I leave for court. But tell me just one thing, officer".

"Uh…", Donnelly exhaled as he could barely believe the ease with which his appeal had been granted, "Yes, of course, sir".

"What made this captain, Wesker, is it?", the magistrate inquired, "What made him think that this kidnapping had anything to do with the epidemic of people who are being butchered in this city?".

"We don't know, sir", the officer shook his head as he found himself telling the whole truth for a change, "But he was adamant that there was a connection. He was so sure that he walked right into a death-trap, from what I hear".

Donnelly held his breath again, hoping that the omissions he was so freely giving didn't get him or his partner into trouble later. But he felt that those details had to be skipped if the man across from the desk was to agree to give them the warrant they desired on the spot. Regardless, it seemed enough to convince the judicial member to pick up the phone and ask his clerk to report to his office, which the younger secretary did after a few seconds.

"Dominic, I'm not sure myself, but do you know what the mayor's home address is?", Jackson asked the young man from the seated position once the clerk was in the room.

Officer Donnelly opened his mouth, almost speaking out that he knew the address in question himself, since he had driven there more often than he could recall. But he then stayed quiet, wishing to let the high-ranking member of the judiciary do things his way, and remained ready to supply that information in case the law clerk did not know the answer.

"Uh, yes, Your Honour, I do", the young man informed the entire room, "Why do you ask?".

"I need you to write up a search warrant for me, and do it before any of the other tasks that are due for court, Dominic", Jackson went on, "The address is the mayor's residence, and I want these men here to be able to look through every square inch of that house, as well as every extension and vehicle that may be available in the surrounding property".

"Right away", the secretary returned to his own desk before closing the door behind him, almost exiting the office before the judge thanked him for the prompt response.

"Gentlemen, I'm not sure if you two know of my relationship with Mrs Warren, the mayor's wife", Jackson continued talking as he interlocked his fingers and rested his elbows against the desk while the trio waited for the typist to return, "She and I have worked together _many_ times in regards to functions – charities, fundraising, social awareness. Why, only last month she hosted a seminar geared to kids and adults about the important of open communication in families. I didn't think people came much nicer than Elena Warren. So I think you can appreciate the gravity of what you're alleging here. Mainly, I'm going to feel _extremely_ disappointed if Mrs. Warren knew anything about brutal murders that are occurring all over this city and hadn't come forward with the information".

As he finished talking, the door to his office opened again and his clerk brought in a standard search warrant sheet that had its gaps filled. From experience, both officers knew that the gaps were in regards to the address that was to be investigated, the names of the people who were living in it, and finally, the name of the judge who authorized the search.

"Here you go, Your Honour", the young man placed the sheet of paper on the desk surface, in front of Jackson, and the older judge quickly read through it before withdrawing a fountain pen from his pocket and signing it.

"Thanks, Dominic. Please call the courtroom and apologize for the delay and tell them I'll be there in five", the magistrate finished before the secretary nodded and vacated the premises again.

"Here you go, gentlemen", Jackson stood up and handed the relevant paperwork to Donnelly, who gladly accepted the offering, "And please _do_ keep me informed".

"Will do, sir", the older cop shook his hand after folding the piece of paper, "And thank you".

"Good luck", the judge replied while he then gripped Chisholm's right hand, "Although, young man, from your appearance, I would suggest you sit this search out and allow some of your colleagues to take your place. You look _much_ too tired to still be on duty. Get some rest first, OK?".

"I will, sir, no problem", the younger cop agreed before the two partners left the judge's chamber and then walked past the secretary's desk before exiting room 529 and heading back to the elevator.

"Stay away, like hell", Chisholm thought out loud while they were walking past dozens of other people on their way to city hall's main entrance, "Last guy who said that screwed us over and killed several cops afterwards. It's time to trust no one but ourselves".

Donnelly looked over to him, about to mention that the fact that they had just been able to depend on Jackson's help was lost to the young man, but ultimately decided against saying anything. From Chisholm's point of view, as he spoke, he checked for the presence of his sidearm yet again, wondering if this was the day when he'd have to use the weapon in the line of duty. If it was, then he was ready to do so.

Unfortunately, both cops then saw that there was a huge crowd gathered in front of the closed elevator doors, which wasn't an unusual occurrence during the morning or evening rush hours. So sighing at the delay, the officers opted to turn away from the elevator waiting area and headed towards the stairs.

Not like another few minutes' hindrance was going to make a difference now anyway.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Miss Warren, we're done here", captain Wesker mentioned as he had ultimately returned to the living room of Umbrella's safehouse, carrying the Desert Eagle in his right grip while several loose pieces of paper were in his left hand, "This place has relinquished all the information that I believe it's going to, so it's time for us to vacate".

"Uh, is he, I mean, does he be…", Shakahnna remained standing in place while she appeared to be tracing the origin of a black cord which she held in both her hands, the side of her head motioning towards the direction that the older man had emerged from.

"If you mean the old man, then yes, he's permanently dead this time", he confirmed, "The physical proximity of yourself to the dying person must be a factor, at least that is my assumption".

"But we can't be's going now!", the redhead changed the subject rather abruptly.

"And why is that?", he asked, genuinely curious, considering she'd been so desperate to leave this whole time.

Without replying verbally, Shakahnna turned away from her companion and continued working her way towards the source of the back cord that she was holding. After a few seconds, she ultimately found its origin, which was a telephone that had been sitting on the floor and behind an open door. Then, instead of saying anything to him, the young woman sat down on the floor next to the phone unit. She then proceeded to lift the receiver and began dialling numbers, to which Wesker reacted by rushing to the wall socket where the phone was plugged in and pulled the wire out altogether.

"AAAAAAAAAAH!", Shakahnna screamed when the receiver went dead while it was attached to her ear, and then indignantly turned her attention back on him, "What be's you doing!".

"It's funny you should ask, miss Warren, because I was wondering exactly the same thing myself", the STARS captain replied while he was folding the pieces of paper and placing them within one of his pockets.

"CHINO!", she countered back, as if that one word would explain everything.

"I beg your pardon?", the RPD agent went on, "You will have to elucidate further, as I'm currently unaware as to what you're trying to convey".

"I be's needing to be calling Chino! Now!", she explained further

"Miss Warren, I do not know who you mean", Wesker replied as he folded his arms in front of his chest, "But whoever it is, rest assured that you will _not_ be calling them from this phone. Not unless you wish to bring the wrath of Umbrella onto their head by making them the responsible party in this massacre".

"What be's you why for that?", the teenager stood back up, the sheer problems with her grammar causing the older man to wince for an instant before he understood what her question meant.

"Because, miss Warren, this place is an Umbrella safehouse, as I had believed you understood", the man in the shades explained, "We either displaced, incapacitated or killed all of its defenders, and then I executed the person who it was supposed to be _keeping_ safe. Now, you can be sure that when Umbrella notices that Claymont back there isn't answering his summons, more agents will be sent to investigate the mystery, and if any phone calls are made by the intruders, then you can be sure that those calls will be traced".

"But he must be so worried about me!", the young woman pouted as her lower lip unintentionally extended past the upper one, "And I already be's making him wait forever!".

"Then before we return the vehicle we used to drive here, miss Warren, we'll stop by a phone booth and you can call your friend from there", Wesker offered, "But not before. Agreed?".

"Okies, I guess I can be waiting a few more minutes", she nodded, giving up on her idea of trying to use the house phone behind his back, "But promise?".

"I do. Shall we leave?", the older man pointed towards the front door with his empty hand, the Desert Eagle always at the ready in case any unexpected visitors appeared.

The officer walked outside first, followed by the teenager, and upon them seeing nothing that moved, they quickly marched towards the waiting SUV, Shakahnna working hard to ignore the other vehicle in this area that contained the two corpses on the front seats.

"Weskie, you remember what he be'd saying earlier, about Umbrella being a trillion dollar industry?", she mentioned as she was climbing into the front passenger seat and then placing the seat belt on, more so to have something to distract her mind with than for any other reason.

"I recall that, yes", the older man was busy strapping himself to the driver's seat before he turned the engine on, "Why do you ask?".

"That be's a lot of money, right?", the teenager commented as the vehicle sped off down the street and away from the crime scene, "It's not just me. That be's frightening".

"More than just a lot", Wesker corrected as he kept his eyes on the road, "It's actually much bigger than I realized. With that amount, Umbrella could probably lose everything it possesses in Raccoon City and _still_ only view the loss as an inconvenience".

The STARS captain suspected he knew why the redhead had mentioned the topic, as he believed she was only gearing up to question him over his role in Umbrella. Those questions would probably consist of the amount of time he worked within that pharmaceutical company, and as importantly, the reason why he had never mentioned his involvement to her. However, not that he disagreed with the notion that she had the right to receive answers from him, but Wesker had an ample number of questions himself.

Fortunately, now that Claymont was finally dead, the RPD captain could relax a tiny bit and afford to be thinking about those other topics.


	45. Chapter 35 HunterKiller

All of you, right now go see the Silent Hill movie. An amazing video game movie… there's really nothing not to like. And if you have the time reviews are always nice too. But mainly go see the Silent Hill movie.

-

"Perhaps this would be an opportune moment for you to begin filling in the proverbial blanks", captain Wesker commented as he was driving towards the cabin, having noticed that his passenger was back to the reserved persona she had undertaken ever since her rescue from the woods.

That was unusual, considering how he remembered her to be before her kidnapping. Forcing his own speech to be calm, he was aware that this situation was far from gratifying. Curious to find out what experiences turned the young woman from the usually outspoken, and loud, personality that she used to have, the RPD official wished to know what those occurrences were, particularly the information which pertained to him.

"Uh… I found a file when I was being held at Umbrella, Weskie", she finally spoke up in a lower-than-normal voice after a wait of several moments, "And I know that you like everything nice and orderly, or what that's thing where it be's in correct succession, or whatever. But this lacks in being easy. So I guess you'll just have to accept things as they come".

"I would hope that, given our past experiences, you shouldn't feel reserved or anxious about telling me anything that's on your mind, miss Warren", he continued to drive, looking straight ahead of him as he did, even while Shakahnna was doing the same, "You always _could_ tell me everything you were thinking before. There's no reason to stop now".

Why was the redhead constantly staring into the windshield? What information could she have that's so bad? And why was he feeling as if he was about to receive extremely bad news when she talked? It's not as if that tape he had seen in Claymont's basement was real. It couldn't have been, not when the teenager's fingers were all present and correct. And just to confirm that they were, Wesker threw a quick glance in the direction of her hands, and exhaled slowly to himself when, much like he had expected, all of the young woman's fingers were in place and none of them were missing.

"The file I found, it had said when you were chibi Weskie, you'd seen bad stuff", she sighed as she kept trying to find the best way to tell him what was on her mind, the act of having to find the right words never having been one of her requirements in the past, not even when she was in Court, "You'd seen what Umbrella was doing to people, and well understandably, you wanted to get away, and you developed dissathth… diassotheathothathive… disassociative, yeah, that's the word, identity disorder. And the other you who's not you. Well, obviously he isn't you, but he _is_ you, well, he was around ruthless people when he had your cleverness, but a distinct lack of a good moral upbringing, so he be's a nutjob".

"Would that be what all this fuss is about?", Wesker smiled, appearing relieved, at least to her, while he answered and quickly looked at her before turning his attention back on the road ahead, "I suspect it may be a falsity, miss Warren. Who knows what kind of mind games Umbrella's been playing with its employees? What the document relates to cannot _possibly_ be true. If it were, something would've given it away, especially in the last few days, because Umbrella's web was unravelling. And I suspect that, due to the lies they've been feeding me, they created that file to try to discredit me in case I ever learned the truth and tried to expose them".

In response to his statement, Shakahnna slowly and hesitantly reached for the man's upper arm with her hand, ultimately touching his elbow with the edge of her fingers, until she got his attention.

"They didn't make it up, Weskie", she whispered to him in an even lower tone of voice as she looked up into his face.

"Miss Warren, to a pharmaceutical company, medical records forgery is hardly a taxing operation", the STARS captain carried on driving the SUV, constantly keeping his shaded eyes away from looking back at her, "I must insist you don't cause yourself any stress over this issue. I can assure you that my only interaction Umbrella will be to assume the role of thorn in their side until such a time when the company is disbanded and all its members are imprisoned or dead".

A moment of silence.

"Preferably the latter", the officer added with a grin, "One vice-president down, many more to go".

"I know the file's right, because you putted me in an arm lock, chloroformed me and took me to that horrible place", the teenager whispered next, her eyes lowered again as if she'd done something wrong.

A flash of several memories assaulted Wesker's mind in reply to her last announcement, some recollections being more recent than others. There was the remembrance of himself as he woke up in his RPD squad car, the day before he was promoted to the rank of captain, and Claymont himself had been calling him, but Wesker hadn't been able to remember how he got there. There was also the dream where a mysterious man who was made out of shadows tormented his visions while the humanoid was in front of formerly human zombies. There was his yearly salary, which he had found in Umbrella's computer mainframe, which said that his income was actually 250 times larger than the money he was supposed to be bringing home every year as one of the heads of Umbrella Security. And last, but not least, there was the memory of Michael Warren and Brian Irons, when both men indignantly informed him that he was in no position to question them about Shakahnna's disappearance and the Bravo team's fate, respectively, since he was much worse than they were.

Wesker's mind stumbled in its efforts to come up with a response to the redhead's latest accusation, though granted that her claim was made in the friendliest tone possible, given its content. But finding no sensible counterclaim, all the STARS captain could manage was to park the SUV by the side of the street before removing his seat belt and then turning his full attention towards the teenager nearby.

"But your finger's fine!", he finally stammered, very much disliking how lost and unsure he felt at this moment.

"So be'd Claymont", Shakahnna pointed out what should've been obvious, "At least for a while. I cured him when he died and I be'd nearby, just like I cured you. If can bring people back from their deadness, well, I can heal quick. Not so quick for that but still it camed back. It's why that fuck who isn't you was so interested in having me there. I can be having things that others don't, and even I don't know how that be's the case. I thought Michael and Elena had took me in just as a publicity stunt. Turns out it wasn't anything that innocent since they don't know where I come from either and they wanted to know. So when the bastard cutted my finger off, it just, I mean, well eventually…grewed back. Of course".

Her last words were dripping with sarcasm because of just how ridiculous she felt having to utter them aloud.

"But this isn't possible!", Wesker breathed heavily as he couldn't get rid of the feeling that she was telling him the whole truth, and to make things infinitely worse, all that she said made perfect sense when it comes to solving mysteries that plagued him for ages, "I can't have a card-carrying member of the research division of Umbrella inside me! Imagine the damage if he merely _pretends_ to be a member of STARS! All the harm he could cause to…".

Another pause as the older man weighed the gravity of what he was learning.

"He had you held in the labs under the mansion?", he finally asked her, to which Shakahnna only nodded her head, appearing as if telling him all this was hurting her as much as it did him.

"Then he may have interacted with the Alpha team? Does this guy _know_ of me!", Wesker's tone grew in intensity as he asked his last question, subconsciously holding his breath as he waited to find out if his alter ego had enjoyed an advantage over him during the entire ordeal.

"Uh…", the teenager's face appeared as if she just swallowed something that tasted awful, "I well I mean I guess he might have.. I only ever see'd you while I was tubed but well having be'd around him.. I can't see him not having did something like that. Even if just to be a bastard. Cause he definitely mentioned you more than once. And I don't really think he likes you very much either".

The look on his face upon receiving her reply was enough for her to apologize for being the one to answer him.

"I'm sorry…", she finally whispered, confirming what he suspected she felt.

Contrary to how she expected him to react, Wesker exited from the front driver's side door before he ordered her to do the same through the broken window.

"You, out!", he commanded again when the redhead didn't initially move, while he paced back and forth next to the street, near a large oak tree..

"Things are going a distinct shade of I do not like where this is going", the young woman uttered to herself alone, feeling her stomach cramping from the events of today, as she decided to do as he wished.

Relatively sure that the man she was dealing with was still the hero from the RPD and not his counterpart, it was only because the latter never became this emotional.

"This isn't funny!", the STARS captain exclaimed after she closed the front passenger door.

"_Really_?" the first hint of anger laced her words before she ignored it as best she could. "I know this doesn't be what you wanted to hear, but if you don't know, it just gives him more advantages", Shakahnna explained, keeping her voice as steady as she could manage, "Be's a choice.. Can either be fighting with this, or just go back to hating Umbrella and not know why they keep playing cat and mouse with you, Weskie".

Sighing, the older man took a step towards her, reaching for her with his right hand, in an eerie imitation of when he had done so after she broke out of her cryogenic tube and crawled towards him. Except this time, the redhead instinctively stepped back, pressing her back against the large car behind her. Obvious fear still written over her features.

"This…", the teenager stumbled when she was choosing the right words, especially since she felt even worse at having reacted as she just did, before indignation took over her mind, "Hey! You never told me you be'd with Umbrella! You've been with them all this time? So did STARS know when they followed you to destroy Umbrella's magic kingdom?".

"Don't be ludicrous, miss Warren", Wesker shot back, seemingly unaffected by the anxiety she displayed around him, at least on the surface, "No one from the RPD would've followed me to search and destroy Umbrella's labs if they realized how I knew of the labs' existence in the first place".

"Even Joey?", Shakahnna inquired, though she suspected she already knew the answer to her question, "Did he know what was gonna happen?".

"No one means NO ONE!", the RPD agent punched a spot on the oak tree that was in front of his shoulder in a rare display of anger, "Frost didn't know anything, with the exception that we were trying to rescue Bravo Team, and perhaps find clues to your disappearance. Just like every other person in that helicopter".

"…", the younger woman looked horrified that the part of the officers' mission that had led them to their fate was the search for her, "Me? ..I… I don't wanna talk any more. Not about this! Can we go? I want to go!".

"Of course", he breathed in and out twice before he regained his composure, "I _did_ promise that we'd find you a phone booth, didn't I?".

Without saying anything else, the RPD captain climbed back into the driver's seat, starting the engine even as Shakahnna was re-entering the vehicle from the opposite side to him. Neither person bothered buckling their seat belt, as she was experiencing further distress at having to give him bad news, considering that she was probably his only living friend right now. And from his point of view, the man in the shades felt a lump growing in his throat. He knew that, as complicated as his life had been so far due to his work for Umbrella and the RPD, and later when he was betrayed by his first employer, his existence from this moment on was going to be many times worse.

In fact, Wesker didn't think life would ever be simple again. Not if the girl in the seat next to his was telling the truth. And he very much believed that she was.

Unknown to both of them, the tree that he had punched a short time ago began swaying in the wind more so than usual behind the SUV as the vehicle was driving away. After a few seconds, the root couldn't hold the weight of the trunk, and soon the tree crashed by its side, though the sound it made from the impact was drowned out by the roar of the car's engine. And the two occupants in the front of the SUV were too distracted with their own thoughts to see what happened in the rear-view mirrors.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"First off, rookie, I expect to be told of these kind of activities _before_ you decide on carrying them out", commissioner Irons berated officer Chisholm as the young man was signing out on the RPD bulletin board, intentionally leaving the timeslot when he expected to return as a blank, "I didn't authorize any of this! You people have _no_ business going to the Warrens'!".

"Sir, if you have any objections, please contact judge Jackson", the novice countered, keeping his voice even so he didn't call his superior any derogatory names that he'd regret later on in his career, "His Honour _did_ agree to the search, as it says on the warrant. We're only acting on his behalf, so any problems should be addressed to him".

In another time, the young man would've been made upset due to having the head of the station, or any other members of the department, speak to him in such a way. But after the hellish experience of the last few weeks, being on someone's bad side just didn't seem all that scary, even if the irate person happened to be the Police chief.

"Don't think I won't, rookie!", the older man huffed, mumbling several more things under his breath as he marched off in the direction of his office, leaving Chisholm alone with the officer's partner while Donnelly appeared to be in the mood to high-five his colleague.

"What's it got to do with him?", the younger man finally turned and asked his more experienced friend once the two of them were left at their desk.

"Come on, dude, can't you tell?", Donnelly grinned, still keeping his eye on where Irons disappeared around the corner, "The Police commissioner, the mayor, all these fatcats are in the same political bed together, sucking up to the same sources for their election funding and so on, so of course the commish doesn't like it when one of his fellow corporate bitches is being harassed".

"You really think he'll warn Warren?", Chisholm followed through.

"Bet you a year's salary that's what he's doing right _now_", the older man stated, imitating an invisible phone to be next to his right ear, "Hello, Michael? This is Brian! Some no-good hicks from the RPD are on their way to look through your place and I wasn't able to stop'em. So make sure to burn those copies of bondage and animal porn, OK?".

"Yeah, right, you know?", the rookie nodded as he checked his weapon and then felt for the folded warrant within his uniform, "Won't do him any good, though, because we'll be there in ten".

"Damn right", Donnelly slapped him on the upper back before pointing away from their current area, "I'm gonna go check on Yuen, Brenner and that dude who I swear looks like my damn twin. Just make sure you're ready to go in two minutes, got it?".

"Will do, dude", Chisholm gave a thumbs up as the phone on his desk rang, "Time to do something about this shit ourselves. No more waiting for others to clean up this mess or hoping that the phone's gonna go and Shak's gonna be on the other end".

"If she's alive, we'll find her, dude", his partner called as he quickly walked away, leaving the novice officer as the young man considered not picking up the phone and letting the caller go directly to voicemail.

But after half a dozen rings, he moaned at the work ethic that prevented him from doing just that, and thus picked up the receiver.

"Chisholm", he quickly gave his name as he spoke into the phone.

From the other end of the call, Shakahnna's eyes widened at how gruff he sounded, but the teenager smiled nonetheless.

"Be's you busy?", she asked him from the phone booth that she was using at the time, while watching Wesker as the captain paced impatiently outside.

She only heard a gasp for air from his end, as it was obvious he immediately recognized her voice.

"What? What! Shak…? Uh…", Chisholm stammered before roughly placing himself in a seated position as he pressed the receiver harder against his ear, "Is this…? How! Are you OK? Where _are_ you?".

"I missed you so much!", the redhead began talking excitedly, but then remembered that the car they borrowed only had a few coins within the dashboard, while Wesker himself had paper money only, "But sweetheart, I'm at a payphone and I can't tell you where I be's just yet. But I swear to you that I'm OK. There's just something I need to do first that be's very important, and once that's done, I swear I'll come home".

"What? What're you talking about?", the rookie sat up, still having a problem believing that he was talking to his missing person, "Why can't you come home _now_?".

"I'll explain everything when I see you, Chino, honey", she was suddenly finding this to be even more difficult than she had expected, and asked that maybe Wesker was correct in insisting that she not talk to Chisholm until she was ready to see him in person, "I'll be home in 24 hours from now exactly. Just be sure you're home then, OK?".

"But, you're not telling me…", the young man continued, feeling more confused as time went on, "I didn't think you were even _alive_ any more. I mean, Wesker said he'd look for you, but then his STARS came back and said that Wesker's dead and a traitor, and all this time went on without me hearing from you. And the finger! _Your_ finger!".

"He is? STARS said what?", she momentarily felt surprised at what she was being told, especially about Wesker's death.

Considering she was staring at the man in the shades, who had stopped marching back and forth and was now standing still and staring at her with his arms folded in front of his chest, she casually waved at him. She was very glad that he wasn't hearing all this just now, particularly about the part where his team thought badly of him.

"I'm so sorry, so so sorry you've been worried about me, Chino, hunny. Really didn't want none of that", she momentarily considered not going through with the plan that Wesker had detailed before they found the phone booth, but then bit her tongue when she repeated to herself that the captain's idea was a sound one, and worth the terrible inconvenience it was placing on her loved one.

"Shak?", he called for her attention when she had been silent for a moment.

"I know this isn't perfect", she rubbed her eyes with a free hand to dry the tears that were gathering there, "But 24 hours from now, I'll explain everything to you at home, I swear. But I'm OK and I can't wait to see you agai…".

It was the last thing she could say before time had run out on her end of the conversation and her phone went dead. Shakahnna angrily placed the receiver back, and quickly considered finding a store and having Wesker get change via the paper notes that he possessed. But she sighed to herself as she locked eyes with the older man, who was clearly not going to easily agree with that idea. And the teenager had to admit to herself that she had informed Chisholm of her strategy to see him at their home in a day's time, after she helped Wesker destroy all the creatures within Raccoon City forest.

After all, Shakahnna knew that she couldn't be killed regardless of how ferocious the monsters were, and Wesker had good knowledge of their creation, plus the officer was very apt in the use of combat and firearms. That was why the clean-up of the forest had to be done by the two of them alone, as Chisholm had a higher chance of getting hurt, plus Wesker was adamant that his current existence be kept a secret. And lastly, the young woman knew that getting more coins to call Chisholm again didn't make sense, as she had already told him everything she wished to, and being on the phone again would only make it more difficult to hang up.

So the redhead exited the phone-booth, smiling at the older man before they both began walking back towards the waiting SUV.

"Doing the right thing sucks!", she uttered between clenched teeth.

"Often it does", the man in the shades confirmed as he withdrew the car keys.

"Oh, by the way, you be dead", she let him know, passing what little information Chisholm had told her.

Wesker's only reaction was to look at her face, his expression unreadable.

"And a bastard", she also confirmed his earlier dread that he hadn't been solely in charge when STARS alpha team was in the mansion, and also guessing that the new information would keep him from asking about her own escapades.

"Miss Warren, I recall you expressing a desire to bring into play the flathead bullet", the older man stated as he opened the front door, "You may have the chance if you wish while we cleanse the forest".

"Fuck yeah!", she replied as she climbed within the passenger seat.

"I hope you realize that once we have more leisure time, I expect to have the gaps in your story filled in", he added as he started the engine.

"Yes, bollocks", she whispered under her breath, thinking he hadn't heard her, even though he had.

As the SUV drove towards his cabin, her last thought was that this task better be finished by the time 24 hours pass, as she didn't plan on standing Chisholm up.

------------------------------------

Officer Chisholm heard the phone go dead, which prompted him to call out the teenager's name a few times, before he finally realized that no one was on the other end. Exhaling at last, the young officer noticed that he had been holding his breath the entire time, and his heart was racing in his chest, and he still had more questions than answers.

But ultimately, he knew for sure that it had been Shakahnna on the phone, and that's what really mattered. There still remained the issue of why the redhead would be asking to meet him in a day's time and not right away, as well as where she was currently. But from the sound of her voice, she was as eager as he was, and unhurt, as Chisholm didn't believe that she was being coerced into saying all those things.

So where did that leave the planned search that he, his partner and three fellow cops who had volunteered for the assignment were planning to carry out in a few minutes? The rookie thought fast as he spotted Donnelly returning to the desk, the older man most likely wondering why the novice was seated when he should've been on the move.

"Just a bit tired, dude", the younger man said out loud in anticipation of the question that was about to be asked, and he then climbed back up to his feet.

"So you ready?", Donnelly asked back, placing on the heavier of the two styles of Kevlar vest the department carried, "Yuen, Brenner, and that Kevin dude are good to go".

"Absolutely", Chisholm followed through, having quickly made up his mind to go ahead with the controversial search of the mayor's mansion after all.

If nothing else, Shakahnna hadn't said that it wasn't the mayor who caused all this. So he guessed that there'd be nothing to lose by going ahead with his original plan.

"I _do_ hope we don't get that blonde kid into trouble, considering she's the one who gave us the finger", Donnelly mentioned as his partner donned the same body armour, "Us going in there may tell her parents that she talked to us behind their backs".

"Yeah, actually, hadn't even thought about that, dude", Chisholm admitted as he felt for the location of the Glock and the search warrant, respectively, for the tenth time.

"Well, it can't be helped", the older man continued, "We're weighing up one kid being kidnapped versus another kid getting into trouble with her parents. See, ordinarily, it wouldn't matter since Wesker was supposed to go talk to the mayor before us, and I thought he did. But that was before it turned out he's a traitoring fuck who most likely told the mayor that we're on to him instead".

"So if anything, Wesker already did the damage", the novice reasoned as they went for the building's main exit.

"Mmhmm", Donnelly nodded as they greeted the daylight outside, "Then don't sweat it. Hell, if she gets into trouble with her folks, then she can just move in with me".

"Good plan, dude", the rookie mentioned, "But what about your girlfriend?".

"Apparently she got headhunted by a big pharmaceutical, so the bitch is heading off", the more experienced cop snorted, "And I know it's a good plan for young Joanne. And hey, if she's underage, then I'll just let _you_ have her till she ripens, OK?".

Donnelly smiled at his own comment while he patted his friend on the back.

Anything to ease the tension before the big confrontation would be worth the effort, and both men knew it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elena Warren sighed in annoyance as she placed the phone down, having just finished a conversation with Police chief Irons, disliking the fact that her daily routine was being inconvenienced by a bunch of ignorant yokels from the RPD. And what was worse, Irons was totally incapable of stopping the five men who were apparently driving towards her home in two Police cars, claiming that they had attained permission by a judge who wasn't on Umbrella's payroll.

In another time and place, Elena may have been outraged enough to ask her superiors at White Umbrella if all five officers and the judge responsible could meet with an unfortunate accident. But in light of the recent disaster at the Spencer Estate, she seriously doubted that her bosses would've approved such an act that would draw public attention when they were scrambling to relocate the highest-ranking executives and to create evidence to counter claims made by the STARS survivors. So at this time, she knew she'd have to take advantage of Irons' warning and wipe out the information on her computer's hard drive, as a back-up for all that data existed in her personal office at Umbrella anyway. And the five buffoons who were rushing here would've had to be even more stupid than she initially expected if they thought that she kept any evidence of her activities on the easily-removable personal computer memory.

Really, though, Irons wasn't able to stop these five, mostly-inexperienced, officers from being such an annoyance. And all the chief could do was give her a prior warning of the raid on her home, something that a much lower-ranked Umbrella spy could've achieved without Irons' relatively-high salary. So what was the point of having the Police commissioner on Umbrella's payroll?

Elena would have to mention the issue at her next meeting, but for now, she put the idea aside as she hurried to type away on her computer keyboard, even while she could hear the faint sirens getting steadily louder outside.

"All this because that jackass had to kidnap her", she kept typing quickly, "Why did that imbecile have to waste my time with that tape and finger?", the mayor's wife sniffed haughtily. "If he thought I'd be affected by that childish display, he's even more immature than before. A break from the commotion around the house was hardly a negative".

She finished her task and received a confirmation on the screen that the memory was empty, and not a moment too soon, as two cars came to a screeching halt outside the entrance to her mansion. Elena got up from her work station and moved towards that doorway with poise, working hard to suppress the amount of anger she currently felt at having her morning plans disrupted. She was seriously missing the efficiency that Penny used to bring to her proposals, and as much as she liked her job, Elena also enjoyed Penny's company and work ethic.

But again, that was an issue for another day as a loud knock on her door followed, which Mr. Bustleton summarily answered, even as Elena saw her only biological daughter walking downstairs from the teenager's bedroom.

"Mom, what's going on?", Joanne asked in a mixture of curiosity and nervousness as the butler at the door had a standard-size piece of paper shoved in his face instead of a greeting.

"That's very tactful", the mother thought out loud as the young man who had placed the warrant a mere two inches from Bustleton's face eagerly marched into the lobby, without even identifying himself, though the RPD uniform and body armour he wore left no doubt regarding who he worked for.

"Oh, it's _you_", Elena continued as the rookie officer quickly did a visual survey of the area and everyone there, taking into account herself, her daughter, the middle-aged man who answered the door, and two more maids who arrived from the kitchen due to the minor commotion.

"RPD, ladies and gents", a somewhat older officer behind that irritating rookie who had tried to hassle them about the redhead's disappearance walked through the open doorway second, "My name's officer Donnelly, and we have a search warrant here to examine your premises. I need to ask every person in this house, and that includes you guys, to stop what you're doing and not touch anything".

He pointed towards the three employees who were full-time workers within the mansion as he finished talking. Clearly the one in charge, Donnelly then pointed towards his right, and two of his men quickly walked in that direction. Afterwards, he locked eyes with another officer who looked like him, except had longer hair, and that individual stood next to the open entryway, keeping his back pressed against the wall next to the door and his arms crossed in front of his chest. The message there was clear – no one was getting out of the mansion while the search was being conducted without his permission.

Lastly, the agent who called himself Donnelly tapped the rookie on the arm and pointed up the stairs, and both men began walking towards the second-floor rooms, leaving the surprised or irate members of the household behind in the lobby. It seemed that most of those people got the message and decided to simply ride this search out by interacting as little as possible with the interlopers. Except for one person who lived in this house and adamantly followed the two men who were going upstairs, that is.

"You better stay out of my underwear drawer!", Joanne furiously trailed the pair of agents, continuously shaking her right index finger at their back, even while the younger cop ignored her and Donnelly turned his head to look back at his pursuer, appearing as if he wondered what was wrong with her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Did you have to be parking so far away from here, Weskie?", Shakahnna complained while the two of them were combing through the STARS captain's cabin hideout.

"It was only a mile away, miss Warren", the man in the shades explained as he was loading a clip into his M16 rifle, having already strapped a backpack full of dozens of other clips over his shoulders, "What would you have me do? Park a stolen vehicle outside our den?".

"I thought we were taking the car back once we were done with it", the redhead went on, momentarily distracted from her task of placing as many .50-caliber flathead rounds into the oversized jacket that she had on.

"We _are_, but only _after_ the forest is clean", Wesker explained as he then kept the rifle in his right grip and used his left hand to holster a .45-caliber Raging Bull revolver near the left edge of his torso.

"And we pay for the broken window, right?", the teenager inquired next.

"Of course", the older man added, not being able to discern whether her behaviour was endearing or annoying, "But we have bigger issues to address just now".

"Nu uh", the young woman shook her head, "Don't wanna be addressing".

"Miss Warren, why do you think you're stockpiling your beloved flatheads?", the RPD agent countered, counting the number of .45-caliber rounds by the tens before placing them in different compartments of his clothing.

"I dunno. They're pretty?", Shakahnna smirked.

"Miss Warren, I expect us to be using _every_ one of the rounds we're carrying here", the older man sighed, wishing she wouldn't make light of this situation, though he wasn't surprised at her demeanour, "And I'm bringing more than a thousand bullets for my rifle alone. That does not include those for my revolver. That should give you some inkling as to the quantity of infected creatures that are waiting for us in these woods. Now, if you cannot take this matter with the severity that it warrants, then you should simply stay here and…".

"Don't be silly", Shakahnna shook her head as she snuggled the Desert Eagle handgun against her chest, "Someone needs to make sure you don't be getting hurted this time".

It was difficult to remain irritated at the young woman, who clearly didn't wish to go stalking and eradicating, and would rather be meeting up with her boyfriend. But she wished to let him go in his solo chase of monsters even less, so she was insisting on accompanying him since it was the lesser of two evils.

"I imagine we'll find Cerberus and zombies most of all, but we should also be prepared for hunters, and this latter creature is much harder to incapacitate", Wesker spoke up as he undid the safety on his M16 rifle and headed towards the cabin's only door, "Only rules are for you never to advance me, always point your weapon towards the ground, and lastly to fire against your target _more_ often then necessary rather than being unsure if it's dead".

"I won't let Weskie down", Shakahnna nodded as she followed him outside.

With those words, the pair hoped to use superior firepower to destroy a much fiercer enemy without becoming casualties themselves. If it was the last thing Wesker did, he was adamant in seeing that officer Frost was these creatures' final victim of all time.

He just hoped he could succeed in his mission of cleansing the forest. And after he was done here, Umbrella was next.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The pair of marauders were on their way to returning towards captain Wesker's hideout, having spent approximately six hours so far killing any unnatural beasts who lurked within Raccoon City forest. So after several hundreds rounds were used for the M-16 rifle and the two revolvers, their search had been fruitful as they came across what was undoubtedly a Cerberus nest. The creatures fiercely defended their territory, but were overwhelmed by the attack of such destructive firepower. Normally creatures of the night, most of them had been resting, and the end result was an untold number of dead Cerberus dogs and several stray zombies who had been put down. By that time, the RPD agent had surmised that the number of dead monsters was large enough to make their overall mission of clearing the forest a success, and had thus made up the new plan of heading back to his cabin, and, of course, killing any beasts along the way, if they should run into some. So far, though, the entire trip back towards the wooden cottage was uneventful, allowing them to guess that the majority of the threat to the city was taken care of, as had been their priority.

Wesker was used to events of this nature and, as such, wasn't surprised that he hadn't needed, nor insisted on, a break to get some rest, the two hours of sleep he had gotten before confronting and finishing off Claymont easily rejuvenating him. But what definitely astounded the man in the shades was that his companion never asked for respite either, the redhead not uttering a single complaint as they shot their way through groups of hounds. Her aim was abysmally dire, as expected, but he had watched her kick several animals to death, making her a fairly valuable asset by his side.

Maybe the stamina she was exhibiting was part of the reason she had been held against her will and subjected to several vicious tests while in Umbrella's labs, which, of course, led Wesker to think about the factor of a second personality that was living in his own head. Despite repeating to himself that distractions were dangerous in a combat situation, the STARS leader found himself reflecting on what the teenager had told him earlier today, and what he saw on Claymont's television screen. And unfortunately for him, now that the hunt for the forest monsters was coming to a close, he had nothing that urgent keeping him from having to come face to face with those most unpleasant facts.

But a scream snapped him out of his reverie, causing the officer to spin around, just in time to see five vicious hounds attacking the redhead who had been a few steps behind him. In slow motion, he saw Shakahnna firing her Desert Eagle, to no avail as one of the monsters had its jaw clamped around her right wrist, its sharp teeth gnawed easily through soft skin and cartilage. Amid the howls of pain and the young woman's warm blood that was splashing onto the vegetation around her, Wesker took aim with his rifle and managed to fire twice, each bullet penetrating a dog's skull and killing it on the spot. However, that was all he managed to accomplish before one of the three remaining beasts pulled the teenager down towards the ground, and another animal sank its already bloodied fangs deep into the tender flesh of her throat, turning her screams into wet gurgles.

In a distant part of his mind, a shocked Wesker was reminded that this scene resembled the one from his recent past when he failed to kill the dogs that attacked officer Frost. He couldn't accept that this was happening. That was even if these Cerberus hounds surprised him with their omnipotence, as the group of five dogs had literally laid in wait for them, attacking in unison and without giving a single hint of their ambush, having reverted perfectly to their primeval instincts.

So much for their mission being supposedly finished, he deemed, angrily pointing the rifle and executing the other dogs with three more pulls of the trigger.

As the last animal there yelped and collapsed on the grass, the RPD agent wearily dropped his right arm by his side, lowering the rifle which was in that grip until the weapon pointed towards the ground. His face reflected the shock he currently felt at having failed to protect his companion, even though they had survived the majority of the mission unscathed. So this meant he was now completely alone, and the only person who could've shed some more light on the mystery of his other personality was dead in front of him.

Having instinctively approached the bloody scene where the young woman was lying on her side, with her face lowered towards the grass, almost disguising the fact that she had no throat left. The man in the sunglasses got the urge to scream in sadness and frustration. With her dead, he didn't have a leg to stand on, so Wesker angrily kicked at the torso of the nearest dead dog, ignoring the crack which told him that its ribcage broke from the impact, and was about to yell out when something else grabbed his attention.

Bright, white light enveloped Shakahnna's body, causing it to horizontally float about three feet off the ground. With Wesker watching, his mouth open for the first time in a long while, he saw that the many wounds on her figure healed within a few seconds, leaving only the dried blood on her skin and clothing. As that occurred, wings that were about a yard long each sprouted out of her upper back, extending to their full length as the young woman then was gently returned to the ground below.

Once she was lying on the bloody grass, Wesker squatted next to her figure, having just remembered what Shakahnna had told him about her finger being removed and the injury being healed afterwards. Obviously, this was something even more extreme than the natural impossibility that she had described to him earlier, but the RPD officer wasn't going to question it, as it meant that his only remaining friend was still alive, which was a miracle by itself.

Upon closer inspection, he could see that she appeared to be gently sleeping, with her hands held underneath the side of her face, palm to palm and their fingers outstretched. That scene reminded him of how young his companion truly was, as Shakahnna was only just past her teenage years, which should've made the reality of Umbrella's actions all the more difficult to grasp. But the older man also remembered that he hadn't been as considerate towards her as he should've been, once the two met up after having escaped the mansion. That couldn't have been helped under the circumstances, of course, or so he told himself. But it didn't change the truth behind the previous statement nonetheless.

So wondering how much he could change his behaviour in the future, and realizing that he had many decades of social isolation working against him, Wesker held his breath as he finally extended his left arm and touched her neck with those index and middle fingers. The result was that Shakahnna opened and closed her mouth several times, as if she was just waking up from a comfortable nap, the imagery being further confirmed as she rubbed her eyes with both hands and turned over on her back.

A yawn followed as she then looked up at him, wondering why he seemed to be so confused.

"Oh, hello, Weskie", the young woman uttered with a smile and began sitting up, "Did I fall asleep or…".

She then saw the gore that surrounded her, among the five dead creatures and the sea of red that was everywhere.

"Eeeeugghh! That be's disgusting!", she claimed when she finally saw what she had been lying in.

Wesker's only reaction was to lean forward in her direction, still visually inspecting her while fresh pain suddenly was felt in the very spot where he had touched her on the neck. That made the young woman screech in response as she hugged herself and curled her head down towards her chest, keeping in that position for the better part of a minute before she looked back up to him. As expected, the pose that he had been in ever since her awakening hadn't changed, as he continued simply looking at her as if she were an oddity.

"Ow! That really hurted, Weskie", Shakahnna commented, carefully placing her own fingers on her neck, "What was that?".

"That's what I'd like to determine", the older man replied as he stood up to his full height and kept looking down at her figure, "And I'll be happy to investigate this phenomenon with you, once we're back in familiar territory, that is".

He looked around him, partly to ensure that no more monsters were about to follow the pack of five dogs, and partly to estimate how much further travelling they'd have to do before reaching his cabin.

"We have another mile to go", he informed her while resuming eye contact, "Can you stand up?".

The frank way in which he asked her that question made him feel as if he had already recanted his previous statement of wishing to be nicer to the teenager, as he guessed it would've been more appropriate to ask if she was hurt or in pain. In another place and time, Wesker would have to work on his communication difficulties, but for now, he merely extended his free hand down towards her instead.

Which she accepted, gripping his hand and using the leverage to bounce herself back to a vertical position, seeming much too gleeful for someone who had just died in a traumatic fashion.

"I _do_ hope you'll have more time to answer my questions once we return to my second home", he continued while she was standing in front of him, eyes locked as always.

"Sure, Weskie, but only if you're good", she offered while winking her right eye, not having realized that the number of inquiries he now planned to make were increased two-fold. For her part, Shakahnna realized her inability to die was perhaps something she should have mentioned earlier.

The man with the shades only narrowed his eyes from behind the dark glasses, causing Shakahnna to resume a more serious stance.

"Better to laugh than to cry", the girl told him, giving a sad smile this time, indicating that even if he wasn't going to ignore what just happened, then she would.

"This way, miss Warren", he indicated with his left, free hand, "The sooner we're there, the sooner we can rest".

He just didn't know if he was saying so because he believed that either one of them truly needed a break, or because what he had just witnessed made him curious enough to solve the mystery that his companion held. Even if it was to the point of finishing the search for the last few remaining virus-infected creatures early.

It was the last thought in his head before further growls were heard nearby, which was their only warning as three further Cerebrus hounds leapt out of the surrounding vegetation, dashing towards the two humans as saliva drooled out of their mouth. Two of them aimed for Wesker while the third changed its trajectory to chase after Shakahnna.

Holding his breath, Wesker kept the rifle pointing towards the ground by his right side as he quickly withdrew the Raging Bull via a left grip, then taking aim and firing two rounds out of the revolver into the lead dog. That animal yelped as pieces of its skull ripped out of its head and it then felt its legs folding underneath its weight. The second monster ran past its dying leader, leaping in the air as its opened jaw aimed for Wesker's throat, only to receive a bullet that landed into its left eye, killing it on the spot as it then flopped on the ground and remained immobile.

From Shakahnna's point of view, she saw the third beast jumping for her, and ducked out of the way just in time, seeing it sail overhead. As the hound gracefully landed on its four legs nearby, it was stunned to see that the female human was now running after it, which Shakahnna did, before tackling the beast from the back, and causing her weight to push it against the grass below. The monster landed stomach-first on the ground, trying hard to turn around on its back so it'd have the chance to bite and claw at its opponent. However, the teenager's vigour and size kept it from doing so, despite its increased strength, especially as the young woman shoved her left fingers into the back of its neck, attempting to grab a hold of it. But because of the rotting condition of the dog's body, Shakahnna's entire hand sank into the fleshy mass, until her fingers gripped the bone underneath the skin.

It was only then that the redhead began punching the beast in the back of its head with her right fist, ignoring the blood and gore that was increasingly covering her own body in the process. She managed to deliver half a dozen such blows, receiving a pained whimper from the animal with each strike, before Wesker's morbid curiosity got the better of him and the older man approached her position to get her attention.

"Miss Warren, what on earth are you doing?", the STARS captain asked while his revolver was trained on the animal that she was busy beating up, convincing him that she wasn't struggling against it, as he had previously thought, but was in fact taking her time to intentionally cause it more personal damage.

The young woman stopped the pounding which was being administered against the now-hapless creature, turned around to look up at the police officer, and gave her best impression of being surprised.

"Nothing", she answered with a sly grin, her body language indicating that her actions were very natural indeed, as far as she was concerned, before she returned to punching the animal who was trapped underneath her.

"Miss Warren, _do_ stop playing around with such a dangerous foe", the older man chastised in a voice that indicated he was more concerned than angry, advising her to kill the monster rather than toy with it, just in case it somehow managed to get the upper hand when being allowed to live.

Taking his advice, Shakahnna delivered one last punch, which was intentionally powerful enough to break the beast's neck, and the hound collapsed lifelessly against the ground.

"So, can we go home now?", she stood back up while slapping her hands together, as if that could somehow disperse the massive gore that was covering her entire upper body.

"Of course", Wesker nodded, "And once we're there, I suspect you may wish to use my facilities to freshen up, miss Warren".

It was hard to believe what had just happened to her, considering the teenager gleefully bounced in the direction of his cabin, actually walking ahead of him, and in such an excited fashion that reminded him of her behaviour in the halls of the RPD. Wesker thought that at least there was one aspect of one person that hadn't been lost during the hellish few weeks that had just occurred. He just hoped it would stay that way as time went on.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shakahnna felt her body tensing once she and captain Wesker had returned to the older man's cabin. Even though the many weapons were casually tossed either on the couch or the floor, and they were in the process of finding new clothing that wasn't drenched in blood and gore, the young woman found it impossible to feel better, like she thought she would have once the objective to cleanse the forest was finished.

Here she was, the mission accomplished, and nothing keeping her from returning to officer Chisholm, but instead of feeling better, she actually felt worse. That's because being back in a confined space with the STARS leader reminded her of the tenuous position she was with him, as she still didn't know how long it may have taken for the monster who wore Wesker's face to return. So even though the shaded man's body language currently indicated that he was the hero from the RPD and not the sadist from the labs, as the latter's conduct was much more relaxed, the teenager still paid more attention to Wesker's whereabouts than she had back when the pair was in the woods.

Granted it didn't do her situation any good now, but the redhead also instinctively tried to remember details of her past encounters with the taller man, wishing to recall which times had been spent with the RPD officer and which were done so with his alter ego. And as odd as it sounded, she deemed herself to be dirty during the times when she had been frolicking with him, and now knew that some of those occasions were done with the personality who had longed to be cutting her up in a torture chamber.

"I would appreciate possessing all the information you have before you depart to Chisholm", the man in the glasses flatly stated, causing her to hold her breath since he asked for a detailed recollection of her experiences, which was the one thing she had not wished to do, no matter how much it was required.

Whether he noticed her more tense status wasn't obvious, but if he did, then he ignored it, since the officer must've known that her time in his cabin was limited, as she was clearly in a hurry to return to her loved ones even now. So maybe he wasn't going to extend her time here by asking her if she was alright, and would instead prefer to keep her for only as long as he needed, before he let her go so she could return home and start making thing fine.

"First thing I be's membering is waking up in the forest", Shakahnna started explaining as she sat down on the first available surface in the cabin's main room, "I was scared, and all that shit, but first time something be'd really off… Well, you see, I dream incorrectly a lot, but, and Chino says it was, but I know it wasn't, but he has convinced me that it was, but I know it didn't wasn't be's. Well… I know now for a fact it wasn't a dream".

If Wesker was confused by her language, his facial expression didn't show it as he sat down nearby. His mind had already made a translator for her words.

"I be'd playing hide and seek with… your other one", the teenager continued, "He didn't like that so much. But when I was on tour, I founded these files, and then I founded that I wasn't dreaming because they were these things called Cleaners, and they had trieded to kill me in jail after I had woken up in the forest. Bastards! They were… fucking knives and… Stupid fucking frogmen fucking… And then they just disappeared, and that made Chino think I was imagining stuff when I wasn't".

"Why would Claymont wish to send these assassins after you?", the older man inquired once she stopped recollecting.

"I would've asked him that if you hadn't so horribly killed him, Weskie", Shakahnna countered, "I had some questions too, you know. And I know they didn't be's as important since it was just me and not information to save the fate of everyone and nothing like that. But still".

"If you had questions, miss Warren, you should've asked them before you left the room", the man in the shades continued with his even voice, apparently not sounding as sarcastic as she thought he meant to, "Why didn't you do so?".

"Gee! I fucking wonder! Doesn't be wanting to see executions!", she shot back emotionally before calming back down and looking away, "And you didn't be listening to me".

"Claymont claimed he didn't know about your fami…", was all Wesker got to say before she interrupted him.

"I'm not a monster!", the young woman cut him off.

"No, of course not, miss Warren", he narrowed his eyes behind the sunglasses as he motioned for her to continue.

"But they say I'm a monster, and I'm not a monster", she continued, making him wonder if she heard him, "And that shadow said I'm a lady, and I don't be one of those either".

"What shadow was this?", his eyebrows lifted in curiosity.

"Be'd his friend", Shakahnna replied in disgust, "Gave your other person those fucking stones that… I nearly gotted away and there were arms everywhere and they be'd dragging me back, and he made all the stuff with the fire and there was ants… Yugh! That doesn't be right. Like, that thing couldn't have been real. He didn't just come out of the shadows. He _was_ the shadows!".

"Unfortunately, there are many a creature that I previously believed to be impossible, which I then saw in person recently", Wesker gently reached forth and placed his right hand on her shoulder, pushing himself into an act of kindness that still felt unnatural.

The teenager angrily slapped his hand away, causing him to growl deep in his throat. Though he was sure that no noise was heard outside his own mind, in response to the indignation that he experienced at being rejected after having pushed himself to do such a thing in the first place.

"You didn't tell me you worked for Umbrella!", she snapped back, suddenly realizing what she did and hoping he wouldn't get angry over it, and being glad that he at least didn't appear to be.

She pulled back from him regardless, remembering that every time she said anything that Wesker's other personality didn't approve of during the last two weeks, she was physically punished for it.

From the STARS captain's point of view, he wondered if she was completely lucid, though she certainly seemed to be so far. But then again, he reasoned that it wasn't really her fault, not when he had been effectively lying to her about his true allegiance ever since they met, and all for the sake of Umbrella, the corporation that created a bad taste in his mouth every time he uttered its name.

"My regrets are known to me, miss Warren", he finally sighed, "Nothing I do now can change what I've done in the past. Which is why I need every bit of information you can provide me to correct everything that's wrong with Umbrella now".

"You expect me to tell you everything after you kept something like that from me?", she asked back.

"Right now, yes, because your cooperation is needed", Wesker flatly responded, "Unless you don't wish for me to have all the information you do when I'm continuing my crusade against Umbrella. Claymont was just the beginning, miss Warren, I can assure you of that. Our fine city's mayor will be on the receiving end of a taxpayer-funded bullet as soon as I find him".

That was enough for Shakahnna to stand up from her seat and point down at him with a right index finger.

"Nu uh!", she shook her head, "Warrens are out of bound!".

"Why is that?", he asked, looking up with genuine curiosity, "He's Umbrella's mayor, the person who's so deep with that company that he couldn't _possibly_ not know what their true intentions are. Not if he was brought in just as Umbrella was revitalizing the town's economy".

"Not Michael you're looking for", she continued shaking her head as she scratched her hair and sat back down, "Michael's _much_ too soft and nice to be into this".

"Then pray tell, why is his name on Umbrella's payroll?", he calmly countered.

"Wrong Warren", she remembered, "It's that truffle-snuffling swamp donkey, Elena, who you be's looking for. It's her. She knows what's going on. I be's sure of it, Weskie".

"I assume I'll take your word for it, considering you've lived with them for quite some time", the officer sighed, "But it just means that I have to kill them both before…".

"NO!", she interrupted him angrily again, "They're both off-limits, Weskie. Not if you want my help in any way. I won't tell you stuff that's gonna put the people who took me in's life in danger. If they have stuff, I'll deal with them".

Wesker bit his tongue, suppressing the urge to mention that it was probably her dealing with the Warrens that made it possible for her to be kidnapped in the first place.

"Have it your way, miss Warren", he finally conceded on that point, "I'm sure a little more investigation will find me many more targets within the city's limits alone".

He intentionally didn't mention his plans to try to assassinate Police chief Irons, then, as he didn't wish for her to blackmail him into promising to stay away from more targets in exchange for her co-operation. And since Wesker remembered Shakahnna defending Irons some time ago before the captain's trip to New York, he kept his mouth shut regarding those other ideas.

"So please, continue", he went on, keeping his new thoughts off his face.

"You promise you won't be hurting them?", Shakahnna asked first, seeming more worried than anything else.

"I do, yes", the older man intended on keeping his promise to the letter only, knowing that doing so would allow him free range to hunt down anyone else within the city.

The last thing he wanted was a short, fat redhead who couldn't be killed on his tail, and he was well aware that she could make a very effective annoyance of herself.

"So how can you heal as you do?", he inquired next, wanting to move on from this particular conversation.

The girl just hunched forward and placed her face in both her hands.

"I dunno", she sighed as she sat back up, though her palms remained pressed against her eyes and nose, "First time was with the cleaners when they be'd attacked. But other weird stuff happened since. When those cops beat me up, I had broken ribs, probably some internal bleeding, all that kind of stuff, and the next day I was fine. Then was when your 'friend' cut my finger off and it grew back, and there was stuff too. Oh yeah, I cut my head off, and it grew back too".

Wesker's eyes momentarily widened at the last statement she made, wondering just what had truly been going on in the Umbrella labs. He had considered himself and Shakahnna to be friends, and all these events had been going on that he knew nothing about even before her kidnapping. But other issues also tugged at the back of his mind.

"So would that be the mysterious connection you had with a certain officer Whey, miss Warren?", he asked next, remembering that she was anxious around that particular man during her days at the RPD.

She only nodded her head several times at first.

"They be'd not particular best pleased at my situation of aliveness", she finally answered, "Oddly enough, it's not something that freaks me out any more. They just gave me a good kick-in".

"And they received much worse in return, miss Warren", Wesker explained, not entirely sure if he should be telling her this just now, but opting to do so nonetheless, "The clique that Whey was a part of was disbanded, and the three other men were transferred to Umbrella's labs for experimentation purposes just as _you_ had".

The young woman's eyes widened at his statement, causing her to cover her mouth with both hands as she gasped, almost as if again she may throw up at finding out the fate that resulted for her attackers.

"Because of _me_!", she finally whispered, "How do you be's knowing this?".

"Not because of you, and I know because I found their remains myself, miss Warren", the older man explained, "And before you begin blaming yourself, I'm sure it wasn't the injury they caused to you, but more so because of the attention they received by not following Umbrella's protocol. I can _assure_ you that Umbrella has _many_ officers on its payroll, and those men were only some of them, possibly without fully knowing the depth of Umbrella's criminal activities. Once they became a vague irritant to their employer, Umbrella dealt with them the only way it does".

"But I drew attention to them!", Shakahnna gasped back as her voice shook, her seated body rocking back and forth, "I shouldn't have reported them to Chino! It took me a day to get over it. A day! It was nothing, and they're dead? But Chino _saw_ them and they punched him and it wouldn't have been a problem if they hadn't. But if it hadn't been a problem, they wouldn't be dead now, but now they're _dead_!".

"Miss Warren, no matter what those men did, I agree with you that almost no one deserves to be punished like that", her companion countered in a much more even voice, "Which is why I need you to tell me everything you can about Umbrella. Every person that they murdered, within or without of the RPD, will be avenged through _me_, for as long as I can manage it. But you need to remember who the true culprits here are, and it certainly isn't you".

"OK, OK, OK", she repeated as she began fanning herself with her right hand, "But you know, you know, that it's not what I wanted to happen, right? Even if it's my fault, I didn't choose it".

"Yes, I do", the RPD captain went on, "And it still wasn't your fault, even when you insist that it was. It was Claymont's, and he paid for it. Everyone else who's as responsible will be meeting their fate like his too".

"Then here be's a question for you, Weskie", Shakahnna rubbed her eyes as she calmed down.

"Of course".

"I still have to see you get scared, or even nervous", the young woman explained, "When I saw you at the RPD, and when I saw you in the hallway twice, and I could tell you could see me, unlike everybody else. How do I make myself be doing that?".

"Being fearless, you mean?", he clarified.

"Uhuh", she nodded her head several times.

"I'm not fearless, miss Warren. I just hide my emotions well", the man in the shades explained, "There were times in that mansion when I felt more scared than I ever had been before, but the key to me is to keep that expression off my face, especially when I'm in the presence of officers who are following me. Soldiers need to believe that their leader is fearless and sure of his objective, even if he doesn't feel so, and that's where I come in. But it doesn't mean I don't feel those particular emotions".

"STARS was lucky to be's having you, then", the redhead commented in a sad fashion.

"'Was' is correct, as in the past tense", her friend continued, "I have no presumptions about my status with the RPD now, miss Warren. Which is also why I need you to keep everything about me to yourself. Considering you saved my life after…after…".

Wesker stopped speaking for a moment, a flashback of the giant with the clawed hand bearing down on him appearing in his mind's eye, before he refocused on the image of the teenager in front of him.

"After I died", he eventually uttered, "If everyone thinks I died in that mansion, I plan to use that to my advantage. The better to have Umbrella executives being stalked by someone who they believe to be dead".

"But how could they be'd gone thinking you were dead, because when I got out, there was no one else there in that lab", Shakahnna recalled, "But you were still moving, and it's you who reached out to me".

Wesker's teeth clenched against each other when he understood that he had been left to die in the Umbrella laboratories after the behemoth impaled him, which was evidence that his other personality caused his fellow officers to believe that they were abandoning a traitor.

"I don't know how that could be, miss Warren", he lied, wanting to move on, "But truth is that Umbrella knows I went out to that mansion and I never returned. They must be counting me as one of the dead by now. Which is why it's important for you to promise me that me being here cannot be discussed with anyone else".

"Not even Chino?", she asked, surprised that he was making such a request.

"Yes, no one", he only nodded once, "Maybe I'll be safe enough to be able to share this secret with people you're close to, one day, but for now, I need no one to know about me. Can you promise me that, miss Warren?".

"Uh huh, I guess I can, Weskie", she told him, working hard to not make the assignment as difficult as she knew it'd be once she was back to speaking to officer Chisholm on a regular basis.

Contrary to her current mood, though, a stifled laugh burst out of her lips, which Shakahnna could barely believe she felt, but which Wesker definitely saw.

"Would you care to explain yourself?", the older man asked, his tone much lighter than she would've thought it'd be.

The teenager initially considered not explaining the memory that just made itself known to her mind, since she definitely believed this wasn't the time or place. But then again, maybe a distraction was exactly what Wesker needed at the moment, as he surely shouldn't be thinking about serious topics all the time.

"Do you member that time, when you be'd at work and were trying to be all serious?", she began explaining, hoping he'd see the lighter side of the statement too, "So I asked at you thirty four times if you would come and be having lunch with us. Until eventually I informed you it would take less time to eat than it would to make me be shutted up. So you caved in?".

"Ah", Wesker remembered the incident also, "One of the numerous times you called to 'invite' me to lunch, yes".

"Then there was the time with the sunglasses. Member that?", she laughed to herself at this particular memory.

"You mean the only time something like that had ever happened to me in my life?", the RPD captain grinned back, "Yes, I believe it rings a bell, miss Warren".

"Joey putted me up to that, you know", she continued, having somewhat calmed down, "Bet with me that there was just no ways I could get the glasses off you. Just like he bet with me that there was no ways I could get you to come to lunch with us".

She sighed to herself as the smile faded from her face.

"Yeah, Joey used to bet with me lots", she went on, remembering the young officer who was no longer around, and that fact returned her mind to the sad state it was in before, the distraction over, "Everyone else always used to be scared of you. But Joey, he always stucked up for you to them".

"I know, miss Warren", Wesker lowered his head as he brushed the hair at the top of his skull, sighing in a mixture of sadness and frustration, "He was one of a kind".

He sat back up straight a few moments later.

"I kept thinking about his loss when I was in the mansion", he recalled, locking eyes with her, "After I saw your apparition, I counted you as one of the dead, so that was Umbrella having gone out of its way to destroy the only two people on this planet that I actually spoke to outside of work-related topics".

"Do you be's upset that I'm the one who's still alive?", sadness engulfed her facial expression when she asked next.

"Not at all, miss Warren. Of course not", Wesker answered, "And I'm surprised you think that I could honestly answer otherwise. I'm presently saddened that you're not _both_ still alive".

Shakahnna didn't answer at first, but the gloomy look in her eyes vanished, replaced by one which indicated that she was pondering about an issue which had just occurred to her.

"Miss Warren?", the man in the shades inquired when she didn't say anything for several more seconds.

Wesker was about to reach forth and try to elicit some kind of response from her by waving an hand in front of her face, when the teenager suddenly stood up from the settled position first.

"Unetchloride!", the redhead exclaimed out loud.

"I beg your pardon? Who or what is that?", the older man remained seated as he looked up at her.

"That's the word! Unetchloride!", she repeated while she looked down in an excited fashion, as if that explained everything.

"Again, I must ask", her companion stood up to his full height also.

"It makes it only be you!", the teenager stammered, "It makes it so the other, the other you, gets broken. I read about it in your file. The other one kept trying to find a drug or pill or whatever to be making you go away permanently, but he always be'd failing, and the only pill he found was the reverse of that, so Umbrella's known about this drug, the Unetchloride, so the other you could experiment on it till he does be's getting his mission accomplished".

"Really?", Wesker thought about the new information as he crossed his right forearm in front of his chest and held his own left elbow, those left fingers crossing his mouth as he spoke, "But I've never heard of that, miss Warren".

"Of course not, silly! Umbrella counted on you not knowing anything for sooo long, no?", she went on, temporarily oblivious that she was repeating something that had plagued him for the last several days, "But Umbrella did keep working on this drug to try to one day get rid of you. Until they did, you'd always come out when the other you was tired, and me's guessing that Umbrella figured they'd just use you for security and stuff when the other you was asleep. Was the only thing they had that made him do as he was told as well".

"Well, it's certainly something to try to find when I'm plundering Umbrella headquarters in the future", the older man thought out loud as he placed his hands within his pockets, "But if there was any of this Unetchloride within the labs, I'm afraid it's no longer there".

"I think… Weskie…", it was her turn to try to delve into the other personality for a short time, since doing this most unpleasant task may have helped her friend rid himself of his other, most hated half, sooner, "If you be'd using this cabin here to hide from Umbrella, it's possible that he did too?".

"I suppose, but you don't really suppose he'd bring it here, do you?", he narrowed his eyes behind the glasses, feeling that the place that he considered to be a better home to him than his apartment in Raccoon City had been violated.

"Why not? If you be'd bringing guns here, why wouldn't he bring some of his favourite toys too?", Shakahnna instinctively turned away from him, visually inspecting the living room, "And while we're at it, maybe he kept those fucking rune stones here too".

"What is that, now?", Wesker asked, having been introduced to a new topic, "And I doubt the pills are hidden, miss Warren. In fact, the only place within this old cabin that is protected enough from the elements all twelve months out of the year would be the bathroom, which is why it has the medicine cabinet there".

"Gee, that couldn't be the most obvious place to be", she intentionally ignored his earlier question as she headed in that direction, being followed from a few steps behind, if for no other reason than for him to humour her.

It took her only a few seconds to reach the bathroom, and switched the single overhead light bulb on before opening the mirrored medicine cabinet over the sink.

"You be's having condoms or something here, that you're so embarrassed for me to look through it?", she smirked towards the taller individual before she turned her attention towards the contents behind the mirror.

"No, and I'm not embarrassed, miss Warren", he crossed his arms in front of his chest from outside the open bathroom door as she was busy rummaging within it, acting more annoyed than he actually felt, "I was performing two full time jobs during a typical week, three if you included our resident psychopath. What made you draw the conclusion that I possessed either the time or the inclination to play a part in the dating scene?".

"Oh, I dunno, Weskie", she countered as her face was still buried within the cupboard itself, "You were in a position of power and Joey told me of lots of stuff that happened under a desk at places like that. And especially if you be'd the one who was choosing the new recruits…".

He could even hear her grinning from behind the open mirror.

"Miss Warren, really", he admonished, "You mistake me for everyone else. I would _like_ to think that the integrity of the precinct was my only concern. I wanted the most competent officers regardless of appearance, politics or other less wholesome attributes. I am curious as to why you ask though. I _do_ hope your overly familiar knowledge of this practice is not from first hand experience. Given your understanding of this method of acquiring gainful employment and the fact that you were hired on the spot.. Perhaps it was how you persuaded our beloved chief Irons to relinquish the position?

"FUCK no, ewww! No!", she countered from her end of the area, "That's the worst thing you've ever said. That _anyone_ has said. Ever. Besides, I couldn't be's tempting Irons anyway, not when his eyes be'd glued on Joanne every time he's near her. Probably has photos he's taken of her when she's out with her snobby friends or at the movies. As unbelievable as it be's, I don't be thinking that short, fat redheads are his thing…".

The teenager pulled her face out of the cabinet and triumphantly slammed the front mirror shut with her right hand, while her left fingers gripped a small, white bottle, which she proudly handed to Wesker.

"Presenting! A bottle of almost having it all Unetchloride", she smiled to him, "So you can be taking them in replacement of your vitamins every few days and can be making more for when these run out. Weskie, I be's very glad I found it, but all this talk is just reminding me how much ick I be's having on", she looked back towards the interior of the bathroom, "So would a shower be out of the question?".

"Help yourself", he motioned behind her without looking in that direction, his gaze fixed down on the bottle he now held in his right hand, "You may help yourself to any items of clothing in the wardrobe also.".

"Thanks, Weskie", she smiled once before she closed the door, hoping that he could truly make something positive come from the container of pills she had discovered.


	46. Chapter 36 Sweet Release

Today is a very special day, one of uptmost importance. Tis one of my best friends birthday and I think he deserves something special so let's all wish him an extremely Happy Birthday and hope that our well wishes bring something amazing around for him. For he really is the cosmic gathering of all swellity. Hope you be having the bestest day ever Simon.

-

"Weskie! Do you be's having any other bigger trousers?", Shakahnna called out, having already raided his wardrobe and finding nothing that she could squeeze into, the largest towel she could find there wrapped above her chest and below the knees, "You forget you have little thin guy hips and I have big fat girl ones".

Having finished a hot shower, she was feeling that her muscles didn't absolutely ache since that horrible night of her kidnapping. So two hours of hot water did make the world seem a more green and fluffy place and it was undeniable that her body felt less like she'd just been in a clown car with a heard of rabid wildebeest. The redhead felt as though she'd smelt the part also.

But why hadn't she heard an answer yet? The redhead walked into the start of the living room, looking through the new area further, before a black blur caught her eyesight from the side. It was all she got to see before Wesker appeared in front of her and pinned her upper back against the wall. Seeing the predatory smirk on the blonde man's face, as well as his more relaxed body language, was enough to make her suspect that she wasn't looking at the RPD captain, but his more menacing, Umbrella counterpart, instead.

"Weskie?", she whispered first, and the fact that his twisted grin widened as his head shook from side to side slowly was enough to prove to her that her suspicions were correct, "Nu uh!".

She considered the possibility of kneeing him in the groin, but felt that his legs were pressed against the area just above her knees, obviously intentionally kept there to keep her from repeating what she had done to him while in the labs.

"I… Um…", she stuttered in mind-numbing fear which she had only just accepted was gone.

"How delightfully ironic, Miss Warren, that it should be _you_ of all people to bring me back here. Had I not been witness to it, I may have had trouble accepting such an occurrence", Wesker interrupted, prompting her to wish that she had insisted that he take one of those pills before she went for her shower.

And in addition, the grip the older man was using to keep her in place was also much stronger than before, as he wasn't even exerting himself to make sure she was restrained and unable to move despite her best efforts.

When had Wesker become so strong? There was a song for just such an occasion called the false song. He could never have won in a match of brute strength against her before. But here, he was lazily forcing her to remain immobile, which she noticed when she visually inspected his two hands which had her by the shoulders. Her eyes constantly asking these questions her mouth was unable too.

"Tut tut. Didn't you listen to anything I had to share?", her antagonist spelled out.

"Funnily enough, drowning someone does not lead to them having the best concentration!", she hissed through clenched teeth, panting, "Thou fucker!".

Shakahnna was surprised that the last statement made it out of her mouth, but regardless, it was proof that there was enough anger left even amid all the fear. But all her reaction brought was a sly smirk to the corner of his mouth, the Umbrella scientist now being able to see that the redhead literally looked different, as she glowed in a way that other creatures did not. And granted he had seen her being brought back from the dead before, which had undoubtedly confirmed his beliefs that the teenager wasn't an ordinary person, but now his improved vision could spot differences between her and other humans.

It was not the only satisfying improvement to his senses, as Wesker could also literally smell the fear off the young woman, widening his grin even further. Not only was it gratifying to be able to almost taste the terror of his defiant quarry, but it indicated his current that hadn't been available to him before, and also weren't accessible to other people. Events had transpired distinctly in his favour, all his plans executed without any serious setbacks.

The reality that Shakahnna had been the one to carry him to his hideout was the only surprise that was evident, as the redhead must've done so while he was unconscious, having fallen asleep from exhaustion.

Wesker resisted the urge to throw back his head and laugh, blissful in the knowledge that everything had gone so well. Now that he was without the painfully vexing presence of his other half, all he had to do was rest a bit longer, regain his strength and energy, and he would have the entire world as his arena.

"Your behaviour is completely undignified, miss Warren", he said instead, avoiding all nonverbal clues to Shakahnna of how much he hated this girl, "But such close proximity to an individual who has caused me such hassle…".

The man in the shades stopped talking, noticing that he had gritted his teeth due to despising the redhead, but also knowing that his time awake was very limited, as he could feel the physical drain that was depleting his body. That, in addition to the expertise where he knew that he couldn't kill Shakahnna on the spot, as she'd inevitably return to life when he was back to being unconscious, forced him to quickly think of other ways to torment the redhead.

The idea of hurting her was something that he had been harbouring an unhealthy obsession over. Even now, she was just standing there and glowering at him, having stopped struggling against the grip that she couldn't get out of anyway, most likely due to following a plan not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how scared she was. And Wesker could undeniably tell that she really was horrified, even if her external composure did not show it, as he could constantly smell it on her body. The scent was intoxicating, seeping from every pore of her body and bringing a thin red mist to cloud his vision.

It was at least a testament to how sharpened his wits had become, as he wouldn't have been able to guess that she was afraid if he were to judge her by her looks alone, but even this early on, his superior olfaction alone told him that the girl was only pretending to be in control of herself. With his limited options, Wesker took the one which would cause the maximum damage with the minimum effort, considering he could feel that he was about to be made unconscious due to fatigue again.

He reached forth and gently bit Shakahnna at the base of her neck, taking the piece of skin between his teeth and grinding them softly. That action finally caused the redhead to gasp and flinch back in response, which was delicious enough, but she also managed to loosen her bent right arm from his grip in the process, and delivered a punch to his stomach.

Of course, the blow didn't hurt him, and was apparent to her also, which made the situation perfect, considering he wasn't able to kill her. He had gotten what he wanted for now, which was the fact that she was obviously scared, not able to hide her reaction any more.

"I expect that the first thing you'll do is try to find some way to restrain me", he mused as he then let her go, readying for his last, dramatic statement before he expected to collapse in place, "And I'll be very interested to see if you can find something to restrain _this_ body".

Her lack of smart comebacks pleased him.

"What's the matter, miss Warren?", he asked next in his usually icy voice, "Cat got your tongue?".

With that, the scientist lowered the sunglasses with his right index finger, exposing eyes that were cold as marble, with a feline's iris, and flicked with golden red.

Shakahnna's only reaction was to push herself back further away from him, pressing her body against the wall behind herself like an animal backed into a corner and ready to try and burrow through to escape. Wesker cackled internally while placing the shades back in front of his eyes.

"Always a pleasure, miss Warren", he chided as he could feel himself falling asleep, "Rest assured, though, that I'll return shortly".

It was the last words he uttered before the Umbrella scientist slipped back into unconsciousness, though his body remained standing at his full height. But by then, instead of him, the RPD captain was looking in Shakahnna's direction, his own figure suddenly appearing much more tense and worried, and simultaneously wondering why the teenager looked so petrified. His last memory had been that of sitting down on the sofa while waiting for her to return from the shower.

"Miss Warren, what's the matter?", the STARS leader asked, suddenly wondering if the look on her face would herald in distress.

"Pills. You. Now. Want you to be taking them _now_. Like right now immediately. Please", the redhead responded once she regained the ability to talk.

Though, as much as she tried, she couldn't bring herself to remove her back from the wall that was as far away from the older man as possible.

------------------------------------

"Miss Warren, I have a surprise for you, which I hope you'll accept", captain Wesker commented as he returned from the task of putting all his weapons and ammunition back in their appropriate area, "I believe it's something similar to an item you've been wishing to own for some time now".

As he talked, the man in the shades reached within a pocket of his dark uniform with his right hand, walking towards the teenager who was still seated on the long couch. It was almost instantly that he noticed Shakahnna's reaction, which resulted in him feeling surprised because she was inching her right hand towards the half-empty glass bottle of orange juice that had been sitting on the floor and next to the sofa.

"Are you thirsty?", the older man stopped moving when he saw her tense body language in addition to the worried look on her face, knowing full well that the answer to his question would be a negative one.

"Oh, I, I mean", the young woman stammered as she looked up at him, then threw a quick glance towards the tall bottle that was still several inches away from the tip of her fingers, and then back to her companion, wishing she could be a better liar at this time.

"Come now, miss Warren, let us not play such ridiculous games", Wesker calmly stated as he could easily tell that something suddenly concerned her, even though she had calmed after the previous surfacing of his ulterior personality.

But the STARS leader had agreed to swallow the required medication that Shakahnna insisted would keep his second side dormant, even without worrying about the possible consequences of using untested drugs. In addition to hoping that Umbrella's pill worked as the teenager had read it does, both individuals had made plans to work on the task of keeping a tab on the amount of time it took his less moralistic side to take over, by monitoring when he would next black out and Shakahnna would hopefully recognize the scientist's presence. That way, they would expectantly calculate how long each pill would keep Wesker's hated second half at bay.

For now, though, those long-term plans were unimportant, as Shakahnna was seated a short distance away from him, and she seemed as nervous as she appeared when Wesker had recovered from his latest blackout. He wished to find an explanation for her current behaviour.

The RPD leader showed off his right hand, withdrawing the object that he had been mentioning to her, and bringing two STARS-issue dog tags that he intended to give her. At the sight of the two pieces of rectangular metal that were attached to each other via a thin chain, the young woman's body relaxed considerably.

"Um... Sorry, Weskie", the teenager exhaled as she chose her words carefully, which was an oddity for her, "Just that... That be's exactly what he said right before... Before he took me there. And it makes me... Nervousness ensues".

"You'll have to excuse me, then", Wesker sighed in exasperation, feeling as if the rules that govern his entire life had suddenly been turned upside-down, and he was still getting used to the changes, "It will take some adjustment to adapt to this".

The older man sat down on the same sofa as her, making sure to be as physically far from her as possible, and casually placed the dog tags closer to where the redhead was. The girl who was dressed in the STARS shirt and trousers took a hold of the necklace, sadly wishing she hadn't been so paranoid as to make her friend feel even worse than he already did, quietly thanking him for the gift as she kept her head down.

It was afterwards that Shakahnna leaned towards Wesker, quickly placing her arms around his neck in an embrace, and then withdrew her arms while quietly apologizing in general.

"Weskie, you know I don't be's wanna be leaving", she started talking once they were physically separated, knowing that she was about to give him bad news, "But Chino's be's worried sick, and I made him wait so long already. I wish could stay here, to be with you, I mean. I really want that".

"Have twenty fours hours elapsed already?", Wesker reflexively reached for her left forearm and squeezed it as he asked, wishing she would stay longer, but also knowing that she most likely could not, since he wasn't the only person to be traumatized by these latest events.

As difficult as finding out about Umbrella and losing officer Frost had been, he could only try to imagine the anguish that Chisholm must've been experiencing at this point. So he looked over into her eyes, and was astonished to find an expression of utter pain as Shakahnna was screaming out a silent cry while staring up at the ceiling.

"What? What is it?", the man with the sunglasses let go of her arm and came closer, curious as to what was causing the discomfort.

Except that Shakahnna now yelled out properly, her shriek echoing throughout the small, closed cabin, as she shirked backwards, holding on to her apparently injured left forearm with her right hand.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!", she collapsed off the couch in her effort to put more distance between herself and him, seeming angry enough to physically strike him at the moment.

"What's happened? Why won't you speak?", the STARS leader stopped coming closer to her, instead standing up while she remained slouched on the floor.

"My arm!", Shakahnna hissed through clenched teeth, looking back and forth between her injured limb and the taller man, no longer as irate, but still in obvious pain, "I think it be's broken! I think you broked it, Weskie! Why? What the fucking hell is wrong with you?".

"Impossible!", he countered, crouching near her, but still wary to not invade her personal space if she didn't invite him to do so, "Miss Warren, I barely grasped your arm. It cannot be bro...".

"It's bursted, Weskie!", she loudly interrupted, "Where you be'd touching! And...".

She stopped speaking for a few seconds, breathing hard as she worked firmly to calm down despite the huge pain in her left limb.

"Thought just be'd my hand you squeezed", she finally recalled, looking back at him and, this time, keeping her eyes locked with his, "But what made that go as bad? How?".

"Amazing...", several thoughts ran through Wesker's head at once as he gazed away, searching elsewhere in his cabin as he suddenly believed her, and then looked back at her, "I believe it _must've_ been me, then, miss Warren. I _do_ apologize. We should place your arm in a sling to help you keep it immobile until it heals itself, even if it is your extremely adaptable anatomy we're dealing with".

"But that be's impossible", Shakahnna answered while still seated on the floor in front of the sofa, "How can you be...".

"So is coming back from the dead, Shakahnna", Wesker interrupted as he stood up from his position and walked towards the bathroom, still speaking as he temporarily disappeared there, "But that's another issue altogether. There is a matter which caught my attention when I was dealing with Claymont and his entourage earlier".

He re-appeared in the living room while carrying several bandages and a large piece of cloth.

"I had knocked more than one guard unconscious with barely any exertion", he explained as he knelt next to the teenager, "And after you had exited the basement, I attempted to break Claymont's neck, but instead managed to literally separate his head from the rest of his body. I hadn't thought about it at length before, but I believe something happened to me in that lab, and my body is reacting with more strength than I had ever dreamt of before".

"Not sure that be's needed, Weskie", she tried to persuade him from applying a sling for her arm, "It'll be healing by itself in couple of days or week won't be long at all. So don't want you to be worrying about it".

"Perhaps", he insisted as he continued working on the make-shift medical attention, "But this will help you heal in half the time".

"It really, really hurts!", she pouted tearfully as he carefully began wrapping the cloth around the forearm, and then connected that to the back of her right shoulder.

"I'll accompany you to the outskirts of the city", Wesker commented as he kept her arm in place, "So we can leave as soon as I'm finished here".

"Thank you, Weskie", Shakahnna sighed, in weariness only this time, "Be's nice of you, to you know.. to be letting me go without any hassle".

"Thanks are unnecessary, miss Warren", the STARS captain dryly replied,

"But before we depart, let us discuss when you plan to return".

At least that comment elicited a smile from her.

"'Course", she went on, "However would you cope without having to sleep on the couch?".

Come to think of it, a long day of snuggling up with Chino, in the young man's own home, was a thought that was more soothing than anything else.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"OK, dude, first off, you're taking this _way_ better than I thought you would", officer Donnelly mentioned as he was putting his jacket back on, even while he stared at his partner as Chisholm remained seated on his own living room sofa, "But that's a good thing, it really is. I honestly thought you were gonna blow your top when the Warrens' search turned up empty".

"I guess I'm learning that you're right, dude", Chino lied while sipping a can of soda, knowing full well that he would've either had a heart attack or had given someone else the same if he had not received a phone call from Shakahnna just before the search party left the RPD.

"What part is that?", the older man inquired, genuinely curious.

"That the best way to help Shak and see us through this is to remain as objective and calm as possible", his friend replied, "And I wouldn't wanna do anything to put Shak in danger".

At least that statement was correct, so he didn't have to bend the truth then.

"Damn right", Donnelly agreed while remaining on his feet, "And we will find her, dude. But I'm glad you were OK with me not confronting that bitch Elena about why she didn't come forward with the finger as soon as she received it. I figured that as long as Joanne is acting as our unofficial snitch, then there was no point in revealing our card to her mother. That way, Joanne stays out of trouble and we can continue bugging her about what her parents know. We really have to make sure we watch it with that kid because one girl disappearing is bad enough, even if I _do_ pity anybody who kidnapped that redhead".

"So where are we now?", Chisholm asked next, knowing he should be more interested in what his companion had to say, but constantly staring at the clock on the wall instead.

"Well, you try to get some rest before you pass out again", the more experienced cop went on, "I'm gonna call Jackson's chambers, and this time I'll even make an appointment to see him. I'll explain that we found nothing, but that we would like permission to search the Warrens' work area, first our retard of a mayor and then his wife. I'm pretty sure he'll be OK with it, though I'd be more comfortable if we still had Shak's finger and we hadn't turned it over to that scoundrel Wesker".

"Jackson's cool", the young man commented absentmindedly, more so to appear as if he was paying attention when he wasn't, "He'll listen to you because you're a uniform".

"Uh, yeah…", Donnelly looked at his friend for several seconds, "Anyway, dude, get some rest now. You're starting to say things that are making me think that another person has taken a hold of your body".

"Don't sweat it, Eric, it's still very much me", Chisholm gave him a broad smile as he finished drinking the liquid in the can, "I'll head to bed as soon as you leave, OK? Just be careful out there".

"Yeah, for both of us", the older man commented, quickly checking his sidearm as he headed closer to the door, "Just remember that we probably made _more_ than a few enemies by getting on the mayor's and the chief's nerves today. And while I'm not expecting anyone to plant a bomb under our car, I'd still not go anywhere without my piece if I were you. Got it?".

"No problem, dude", the rookie gave him a thumbs-up while standing up from the couch, leaving the empty can on the floor as he stretched.

"Give me a call once you're up and I'll give you an update", Donnelly gave a swift nod of the head as he watched his colleague moving towards the bedroom, so he opened the door that would eventually lead him outside.

Having stepped outside of the living room, the older officer closed that initial door behind him and then withdrew his key while crossing the short hallway before reaching the main door that connected him to the sidewalk. He was about to insert his key within that doorway so as to unlock it, when he saw that someone from outside had beaten him to the task. The RPD agent was mildly surprised when he heard the doorknob being turned by an external visitor, who then proceeded to open the door itself, indicating that this person had a key to Chisholm's home.

But wasn't he the only person that the rookie had given a copy of the apartment key to? So who was this new person, and how did he or she have such easy access to Chisholm's residence?

"Hey Donnelly", the rough, but otherwise chirpy voice grabbed his attention before he spotted the person who spoke the words.

The officer stood in place for a few moments, the key he had planned to use still in his right hand, as he found himself staring at Shakahnna Warren, while the redhead casually stepped inside and closed the door behind herself. The older man was still dumbstruck as the teenager then moved to lock the door, and then began walking past him, as if she had seen him just a few hours ago and this was all simply a social call.

"Uh, wait a sec!", the officer turned to face her as she was striding towards the second closed door that led to the living room, "Where are you coming from? And your hands! All your fingers are there! What's up with that?".

"Go away, gonna see Chino!", the girl shooed him away while keeping her attention still on Chisholm's living room door, "Later talk!".

In that fashion, she walked past him and gently knocked on the secondary door, calling out the rookie's nickname, as if waiting for him to invite her in before she proceeded into the living room.

---------------------

From within the living room, Chisholm jumped up in reaction to the knock on the closed living room door, especially when that rap was then accompanied by Shakahnna's voice, asking if she could come in. Rather than verbally inviting her in, the young man bolted towards the door with the intention of opening it himself, but he rushed in such a hurry that he only managed to trip before reaching his destination.

He was lying on the floor, on his stomach, when the redhead opened the door from her end, obviously concerned about the thud she heard from inside the room. So Chisholm scrambled up, climbing back to his feet as she hurried towards him, both smiling as they said nothing. Neither individual noticed that Donnelly had walked in after the teenager, the older man's facial expression still betraying the confusion he felt as he watched the two of them embracing.

Several seconds of hugging later, Donnelly sighed to himself as the couple didn't separate from each other, the more experienced officer struggling with the mixture of emotions he currently experienced. On one hand, he was definitely relieved that the redhead was alright, both for her sake and the well-being of his partner. On the other hand, though, he couldn't avoid feeling agitated at the fact that Chisholm clearly knew that Shakahnna was going to meet him here, but didn't mention it to him before.

He looked at the pair who kept holding each other close, then gazed away towards the wall, slowly counting from one to ten, and then stared back at his friend, only to see that they hadn't separated yet. Shakahnna rubbed the side of her face into Chisholm's chest as she breathed in and out, switching her head so her eyes and nose were pressed against his torso next. From Donnelly's point of view, it seemed that they were so close that they were physically uncomfortable, but neither of the other individuals seemed to be troubled by it.

"So, _this_ is why you weren't really bothered when the search warrant revealed nothing, wasn't it?", the older man commented as he was tired of hearing nothing, "I learned that objectivity is the key my ass".

"Oh, that'd be my fault", Shakahnna replied as her face was still muffled in Chisholm's shirt, "I'm not supposed to be here, and by 'here', I mean alive. So I be'd asking Chino to say nothing".

"Yeah, sorry about that, dude", the younger cop added, constantly careful to not put too much pressure on Shakahnna's frame due to the arm that was wrapped as if broken, "You have no idea how confused I was when I got the phone call. It was just before we set out to deliver the search warrant. You were the only person I wanted to tell this to, man. But I was just told to sit on this info for 24 hours and everything would be explained".

"In the spirit of that, then explain", Donnelly verbally prodded as he came further into living room, "Where do you wanna start?".

"Well, let me be starting by saying that I'm never going to be leaving your side again", the teenager uttered as she addressed the younger man while she finally parted from her consort, "Chino, can I be moving in with you permanently?".

"No!", the older man answered on Chisholm's behalf while sitting down on the couch, not bothered that the other two individuals remained standing.

"Of course you can", the rookie smiled instead, already feeling that things were back to normal between the three of them, which could only be a good aspect.

"How much do you be's wanting to say with…", the teenager pointed towards Donnelly's area with her head, intentionally not being subtle as she did.

Both she and Chisholm looked in the older man's direction, and saw that the more experienced officer only crossed his legs before crossing his arms in front of his chest. It was enough of an indication that the seated man wasn't planning to go anywhere.

"Uh, looks like you have to tell us both, so", Chisholm grinned for what Shakahnna suspected was the first instance in a long time as he took her by the hand and guided her to sit on the couch also.

The major friction was that Donnelly refused to move from the middle of the sofa, insisting that the two of them sit on either side of him. It wasn't until the teenager growled that he sighed and agreed to shift to the edge of the couch. So the young man sat next to him, in the middle of the sofa, and Shakahnna relaxed herself on the other edge.

"OK, where do we be starting?", she breathed in and out, starting to fidget and look at the floor as she knew she wasn't going to enjoy any of the recollections she was about to mention.


	47. Chapter 37 Smoke and Mirrors

AN: It's been ages but I wanted to put a big thanks to a whole host of people who perhaps don't get as much credit as they deserve just for encouraging me to indulge in creative endeavours, they be's kingly. Dusty and Simon of course, Lizzy and her leching (who without I'd have no computer), Deathbyhugs for she doth be swell, Darkspade for his muffiny goodness. Jheti, Nyohah and Ghostwriter my Kitana/Jade and Mileena MK girls(you can fight over who gets the purple), Salem and the admiral, John Damen - Oklahoma's finest, Spock, Johnny of the tiger-esque variety, My Telewest boys and girls and all my other heathen masses who are fantastical. If I knew who you were I would pounce you all but let us share in a moment of green and fluffy and then onto the chapter.

-

"There's a shocker; spending the night with someone doesn't make all your problems disappear", captain Wesker sighed to himself while seated on the floor of his cabin, lodged between the wall of his bedroom and the bed itself, "Must be a secret that Hallmark has killed more people than Umbrella to protect".

The Desert Eagle that was filled with 50-caliber rounds rested on his lap as he remained hunched forward in an uncomfortable position, his mind feeling gradually worse since Shakahnna had left him alone. Thoughts and recollections of Officer Frost, himself, and finally his parents flooded his memories, Wesker finding it impossible to stop blaming himself for the young man's death.

That eventually led to him feeling even worse over the countless number of deaths that Umbrella was responsible for during the company's many decades of existence. Everything that he worked so hard for, all the ideals that he tried to uphold, and his entire effort had been used to help Claymont and his colleagues as they committed numerous crimes against humanity, all for the sake of profit.

Wesker had always believed himself to be quite savvy, but he was now having to acknowledge that he had been played and manipulated by individuals that he previously thought were less intelligent than him. And to make things even worse, how could he begin to comprehend the repercussions of the personality that inhabited within his own body?

Thinking of his particular and extremely complicated situation, the former RPD agent gripped the handle of the Desert Eagle with the right hand while holding the container of drugs that Shakahnna told him would keep his second personality at bay with his left. Even now, within a place that he considered to be his sanctuary, he didn't know what he had done to make the redhead so jumpy.

Thus, Wesker let go of both items, lowering his face into both his hands in a gesture of the hopelessness he felt within, wishing that the circumstances were simpler, but knowing that they wouldn't be once he lifted his head again. He wished he wasn't alone just now, but then again, he was learning to get used to the repetition of not getting his way. So what was there to do? Either feel sorry for himself and try to fall asleep, in which case he'd get some temporary respite by being insensate, or get up and try to do what he did best?

It was a few minutes of moping later that he opted to stand back up, reasoning that sleep could wait, as the situation would only get better if he got involved with this problem. Besides, the worst thing that could've happened was that Umbrella would continue with its omnipotent status, killing more people than even the company knew of. And considering that's where he was now, what did he truly have to lose?

"If you're done feeling sorry for yourself, there's still a job that needs to be done", he thought out loud, knowing that he was more strict on himself than anyone else, "You know, the whole Umbrella affair? But _only_ if you're done wasting time. If not, please continue".

He picked up the handgun and the mostly-full bottle of pills, heading back towards his bathroom, not in the mood to get a change of clothes from the black outfit he wore currently. Once there, he placed the drugs back within their proper cabinet and washed his face with cold water, temporarily relieving some of the tension that was building up on either side of his temples. And considering that his puffy eyes were giving him a sensation that he could never remember feeling before, he was glad to have it be finished.

He headed outside, leaving the Desert Eagle inside the cabin, before closing the door behind him. The cool atmosphere helped the effect of the dried water on his face as he breathed in and out, and led to him turning both his hands into tight fists.

"Let's see what this can do, then", Wesker relaxed his body as he was curious to find out just what physical change was dealt to him, remembering how he had removed Claymont's head, and then broken miss Warren's arm.

He marched towards one of the closest large trees that was within a proximity to his cabin and turned his right hand into a fist again. Instinctively turning into a fighting stance once he stood in front of the tree, he then punched a straight jab into it via his right arm. The result was that his ungloved fist dug a hole in the tree's trunk that was deep enough to reach more than halfway to the other side. Impressed by the result, and suddenly not surprised that his body didn't register any pain or injury as a consequence of the blow, Wesker withdrew his hand from the insides of the tree that he had attacked.

He then gripped the sides of the trunk with both hands, and grunted as he pulled with as much strength as his arms could handle. Within a few seconds, he found himself uprooting the entire tree and raising it over the level of his own head, and it was all done without him even having to push his body to its limit yet. It was then that he grinned for the first time, casually tossing the plant that must've weighed approximately a ton aside with ease.

The uprooted tree had barely rested on top of the crushed vegetation that was under its mass when the STARS leader looked up at the top of another random tree, guessing that the height he was staring at was about thirty yards away. Without hesitating, he leapt in its direction, willing his body to jump further than it should've been possible, but ended up reaching the top of that particular tree anyway.

Surveying the forest beneath, Wesker squatted on the highest branch, keeping one of his hands placed on the trunk for balance. He spotted his cabin below, as well as the fact that no one and nothing was around Raccoon City forest, whether those were people or infected creatures. Truly, he and Miss Warren had done a superb job of cleaning the infestation that plagued this area only a few days ago, and that made him feel somewhat better.

It led him to think it was unfortunate that the clean-up did not happen before Officer Frost's encounter with the beasts, as the younger man would've been alive now if it had. But Wesker soon pushed the thought aside, telling himself that there'd be plenty of time for self-berating later, after he discovered everything he could do, and planning the best way his new abilities could help him destroy Umbrella once and for all. So he jumped back down, his legs barely registering the impact of landing on the ground and feeling as if he had leapt from a position that was only a yard in the air instead.

Satisfied with everything he witnessed so far, and trying not to wonder about the reasons behind these special abilities, the man in the sunglasses eagerly marched towards the largest rock he spotted. Once standing next to the stone that was about as high as his waistline, he delivered a downward-aiming punch upon its exterior, chipping the previously smooth surface. He didn't stop there, as he checked and saw that his fist wasn't injured yet. Thus, Wesker punched the rock again with the same hand, and repeated the process three more times, until he noticed that the skin on the surface of his right fist had finally begun to bleed.

He turned away from the damaged stone, marching back in the general direction of his cottage as he held the fist close to his eyes by bending the right elbow. It had taken him about a minute to reach his destination, and once he was just outside the cabin, he realized that the scraped epidermal layer of his knuckles had already healed.

The former RPD agent exhaled in satisfaction, suddenly not feeling so unable to deal with the problems that had been plaguing him since miss Warren gave him the worst news of his life. Of course, it occurred to him that if he possesses all these powers, then so does his alter ego. But Wesker took some limited solace because he reminded himself that he had two advantages. The first was that the drug which miss Warren had pointed out to him suppressed the other personality without doing the same to him. The second was that his other half was a high-ranking member of Umbrella Inc, and that company was already so powerful and ruthless that the number of crimes it committed could not be increased by the presence of a single supervillain. On the other hand, though, such abilities in the hands of someone who hated Umbrella would surely prove to be a serious threat to that corporation and its many members.

But while he was considering how this discovery changed the overall picture that was his life, Wesker remembered that there remained one more test to subject his body to. So he turned away from his hideout and ran deeper into the woods, dodging trees and vegetation in the process. He dashed faster, pressuring his legs to carry him at a speed that he guessed would be several times faster than he could ever sprint before, and approximated that he had run about two miles in a rough straight line. Turning around, he bolted back towards the cabin, measuring the amount of time it took him to cover the two miles back to his home, and reached his front door two minutes later.

And not surprisingly again, he wasn't even tired by the time he got there.

Wesker finally smiled, though not feeling good, but at least not feeling bad at the same time, which was a huge improvement from earlier today.

"Did they ever fuck with the wrong person!", he cracked his knuckles as he went back into his hut, "Umbrella will be finished, one Claymont at a time".

There was much planning to be done.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Agent Redfield looked down at his own arms and noticed that the STARS uniform he wore was an exact replica of the one he had on throughout the mission in Umbrella's mansion. The only difference, he noted, was that this outfit was in pristine condition, brand new, spotless, ironed, and without the large amount of sweat, blood, dirt and water that had seeped through it in the last thirty-six hours.

In addition to the clothing, the young man also realized that his entire body looked and felt more lean, fit and muscular than before. He turned his hands into fists, momentarily enjoying the sensation in his arms, before he relaxed his fingers again. Seeing a mirror that was sitting on a wall, and was high enough for him to stare into, Redfield also inspected his reflection, admiring the fact that his face was perfectly shaved, and he looked a few years younger than he did yesterday. He could even pass for a teenager, and a handsome one, at that.

The police officer found himself outside the front door of the RPD next, and he eagerly went inside to find out what awaited him within the first-floor lobby. Once there, a score of fellow cops rushed at the chance to gladly shake his hand, shoving past each other for the opportunity to be close to him.

"Chris! Great job you did last night!", officer Donnelly blurted out, shaking Redfield's hand while raising his own voice so as to be heard over the clamour of the other fans around him.

"After this, we'll be wanting you to lead the attack against Umbrella", agent Burton added next, happily shaking his hand second, "I know I'm more experienced when it comes to years, Chris, but there's no doubt who the perfect man for the job is, now that STARS is looking for new leadership".

"Alright, everybody!", chief Irons interrupted the procession, making his way through the crowd until he stopped in front of Redfield in his own turn, "We're all glad that Chris decided to come back here. In fact, some of you have even been here since six this morning for the chance to shake his hand. But you have to remember that we also have a city to run, people".

With that, the older man turned his attention to Redfield himself, ignoring the light-hearted groans from the surrounding officers who were made to return to work, even if it was only until they could come back and be with the STARS marksman during their lunch break.

"Now as for _you_, Chris", the Police chief went on, "I have your promotion contract to be the new head of STARS in my office. If you would only do us the honour, you just need to sign on the dotted line, and the position is yours".

"Well, sir, I don't know what to say", Redfield tried to be modest as he gave a wide grin, enjoying every moment of his deserved adulation, "But only if you think I'm ready to lead the Raccoon City STARS by myself".

"Raccoon City! God, no, son!", the chief countered, appearing surprised, "It's to lead STARS from their national headquarters in New York City!".

"Brian! What are you asking him to do!", a new voice was heard among the less populated lobby now, so Redfield and Irons turned to see mayor Warren approaching the two men.

"Well, Mr Mayor, it's just that…", the Police chief began to respond.

"You can't have him! We want him to be mayor of Raccoon City instead!", Warren angrily interrupted before turning a more jovial gaze towards the marksman, "So what do you say, son? I know the job will probably bore you quite often, but this city _needs_ someone who's _you_, Chris Redfield!".

Still pondering about this latest offer, the officer casually walked away from the scene, leaving the RPD chief and the mayor to continue arguing among themselves. Proceeding away from the lobby and towards his work station, he saw Jill Valentine as the young woman was seated on his own desk, her left leg lowered towards the floor while she was comfortably cradling her raised, bent right knee. The clothing that Valentine had on didn't surprise him, as she was wearing a wedding dress that was both sexy and conservative at the same time.

She looked up at him adoringly as he approached, flashing a perfect smile that only she was capable of giving, and held out her left hand as he came closer. Redfield gladly took her hand in his, and the entire scenario changed as soon as he touched the young woman's fingers. Now, instead of being in the middle of a busy Police station, Redfield found himself standing in front of a tombstone, with Valentine always wrapped around his right arm. Looking closer, he noticed that there was only a single word engraved on the tombstone, and that word was 'Umbrella'.

Jill Valentine leaned towards him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, just before Redfield gazed down at himself and acknowledged that he was wearing a sash that identified him as the president of the United States of America. Just then, the American flag dropped down behind him and the national anthem was heard from everywhere, the music reverberating in his mind as red, white and blue fireworks exploded in the sky above.

Chris Redfield opened his eyes, needing a few seconds to understand that everything he had experienced before now was just a dream, and he was currently lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Feeling surprisingly restricted physically, he looked to his right and realized that the reason he wasn't feeling as free in this bed was because Jill Valentine was hugging his body from that side. Even though her presence severely limited his movement, her being there brought an instant smile to his face.

There was another presence, one that was pushing down on Redfield's stomach. He initially thought that the woman who was sharing the bed with him, and with whom he could easily fall in love, had probably wrapped one of her legs around his waistline. But that was only until the said leg which was on his midsection hissed at him. So naturally curious, Redfield raised his head, and found himself to be staring into the round, green, irate eyes that belonged to a fat, black cat who was looking back at him. Upon noticing that he was awake, the feline opened its mouth and spat angrily.

"I thought you guys were supposed to be friendly and purring when around people", he whispered back, the only response being that the cat whined at him.

"Don't take it personally", Valentine smiled next, prompting his attention now that she was awake due to the noise, "She doesn't like _anyone_. Not even me. And I feed her".

He smiled back and affectionately kissed her on the lips before saying anything.

"Didn't mean to wake you", he replied in his usual tone.

"Oh, it's alright", she embraced him again, "I'm glad to be. So I take it you're having problems being in Kous-kous' good books".

"That furball kept insisting on sitting on top of me no matter how many times I shifted all night long", Redfield mentioned, noting that the cat was balancing itself on his midsection even as he turned to face the young woman, "Why do you even _have_ it?".

"She's a bitch", Valentine yawned as she stretched and sat up on the mattress, nonchalantly coming out from under the blanket, which she then set aside, "She's too fat to survive out in the wild, and too angry to make it in the SPCA. She claws anyone who tries to pet her. So what would be her chances of being adopted? She'd just be gassed if she was in the pound".

Redfield temporarily didn't answer, being too fixated on the sight of her nude body as the young woman stopped stretching and relaxed her arms by her side.

"Uh... In that case, you should maybe put her down yourself, Jill, as a mercy killing", he finally shook his head as he remembered having been silent for too long, "Anyway... Did you sleep OK?".

"Yeah, I did", she lied and smiled back at him, "But looks like we're already late for this morning's shift, Chris. I didn't even _think_ of setting the alarm when we got here last night".

"Don't worry about it", he reassured as she climbed out of bed first, and he soon followed, gladly causing the black cat to hiss due to the inconvenience of jumping off him, "I'm sure they'll understand after last night".

He hugged her again as they were both standing in the bedroom, enjoying the sensation of being on his feet while her warm skin pressed against his cooler one.

"I hope so", she uttered while her arms were around his upper back, "We should've been at work two _hours_ ago".

"So we're _already_ late", Redfield grinned back as they separated, "In that case, I say we take our time and enjoy the morning before we head there and receive our praise. I'm expecting today to be the _best_ day of _both_ our lives, Jill".

"You think?", she casually turned away and opened a drawer that was located at the other end of the room, not caring which T-shirt she removed out of it, before she placed the single item of clothing on, which covered her from the clavicle down to her upper thighs, "I suppose. Guess no one else was responsible for breaking damn Umbrella's back last night".

"Exactly!", he enjoyed the fact that she was seeing things from his point of view, even if he disliked having her wear that light shirt now, "So, what do you say we have breakfast while I clean out my outfit from last night. That was a washer and dryer I saw in the kitchen last night, right? Unless of course you have stuff that I can borrow to work".

"Uh, no, Chris", she gave him another one of her winning smiles as he reached for his boxer shorts, believing that he shouldn't walk around in the nude if she wasn't doing the same, "I don't think anything of mine would fit you. But yeah, it was one. We should put your stuff in there. It'll take about an hour to get cleaned and dried".

The alpha team machinist yawned again, scratching the hair at the top of her head as she patted Redfield on the shoulder and groggily walked towards the bathroom. Once she turned the bathroom light on, she was only there for a few moments before the young man heard her flushing the toilet and coming back out, appearing more alert as she had also washed her face with tapwater. She found him as he was finishing the process of placing his STARS uniform into the washing machine, and she then turned the laundry equipment on herself.

"So what do you feel like for breakfast?", Valentine wrapped herself around his arm while asking, the inconvenience of having them both in light clothing no longer seeming so bad to him as she talked.

"Oh, whatever you got, it doesn't matter", he spoke over the light hum of the washer, "Long as you're there and I get to kill the cat, what else is important?".

"Chriiiis!", she gave a mock expression of being offended as she led him to the kitchen table and once there, had him sit down on one of the four chairs that surrounded it.

"You sure there's nothing for me to do?", he inquired as he visually followed her while she examined the contents of the medium refrigerator, "Don't feel right sitting here and being waited on, especially with your arm being what it is. I didn't even _ask_ how it was feeling, Jill".

"Oh, stop worrying", she kissed him on the forehead before placing two empty bowls with a spoon inside each on the table surface, "Things have been so fast-paced in the last two days that it's only natural we'll need time to adjust. And the wound from that bitch is still stinging bad, but it's definitely better than it was last night".

Valentine next withdrew a carton of cold milk and a jar of strawberry jam. After closing the fridge door, she followed it through by pouring bran cereal mixed with raisins into the two bowls.

"Here you go", she offered while adding milk to his bowl first as she sat down on a second chair, "And if you're still hungry after this, there's some toast there".

The young woman pointed at a loaf of bread that was resting further away in the kitchen as she poured milk into her own bowl.

"That'd be fine", he smiled back as he started eating heartily, remembering that he had been surviving on an empty stomach since before flying towards Raccoon City forest, "But what's more important is, what's our plans for today?".

"Well, first, obviously we need to report to work", she began eating in her own turn, "We destroy Umbrella, and then we have to decide which restaurant you're gonna take me to. Remember, the more expensive, the higher my opinion of _you_ will be. But I don't have any plans for the day besides that".

As she finished talking, the broad grin on her face was enough to make him laugh out loud.

"Burger Kong it is, then", he happily countered as he pushed two consecutive spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth before chewing, "Realistically, though. What if we _don't_ wipe out Umbrella and its scumbags by lunchtime? I mean, I'm pretty sure we will, but what if we have to take a late lunch because of it? Or even if it goes till the end of today?".

"Huh, you really think it will?", she seriously answered his question with one of her own, "Well, in that case, it'll have to be dinner at a restaurant and lunch at our desks. Does that work for you?".

"If we're stuck at work by lunch, that's fine by me", Redfield continued while still eating, "But what are you opinions on getting laid again at the precinct? We _do_ have a unisex bathroom, you know".

The way she froze halfway through chewing the latest bit of food in her mouth and stared back at him indicated that his question caught her by surprise. And from his facial expression, it was obvious that he hadn't been making a joke that time. For one, dreadful moment, the marksman worried that he had said the wrong thing and she was suddenly offended by what she heard.

"I'll think about it. How's that?", she finally smirked back, amazing him at her ability to be seductive even while speaking with her mouth full, "I don't fancy getting caught, though".

"We won't get caught, Jill", he reassured, glad that his plans for lunch were already set in stone in his own mind, "The unisex bathroom is locked from the inside. One of us walks in first when the corridor leading to it is empty, and the other one follows a few seconds later. Then we exit the same fashion".

"You are a piece of work, Mister Redfield. I'll give you that certainly. But actually, I take back what I said before", Valentine recalled as her black cat jumped on top of the table, "I _do_ have something to do. Kouskous needs food. Her cat food will be finished after today. So need to pick some up".

"What is she doing?", the young man suspiciously asked as the feline was slowly reaching for his cereal bowl with its front right paw.

"She likes food", she shrugged, having seen her cat do the act hundreds of times before, "If you have some, then she's your best friend. She only goes back to hating you _after_ she finishes eating what you offered".

The male officer reached for the cat in an effort to pet her, and only received an angry hiss from the animal for his effort.

"Then you're not getting squat, furball", he withdrew his arm as he returned his attention to Valentine, "If that's the case, count me in, Jill. I have no plans after work either. Without Claire being around... Sorry, that's my sister. She's attending college in France right now. But as I said, without Claire being around, the only people I hung out with were Joseph and Forrest. Movies, clubs, one of our apartments. The three of us were always together, or having it be the four of us when Claire was on break".

A look of sadness suddenly appeared on his face as he stopped eating, holding the spoon in his hand and staring off into space at the recollection of his dead friends, and realizing that he'd never see them again. Redfield began breathing hard as he placed the spoon back into the half-empty bowl in front of him, resting his elbows on the table and holding his head with both hands. It wasn't long before he was mentally chastising himself for making plans with officer Valentine when he hadn't even notified Joseph's girlfriend or Forrest's father and sister about the two men's demise yet.

The machine expert stopped eating in her own turn in reaction to his change in behaviour, and reached across the table before gripping his left forearm.

"How about if you go out to the movies with _me_, then?", she offered with a sadder expression on her own face, "Not trying to replace your friends or anything. I didn't know either of those guys as well as you did. And I can't say I'll ever like going clubbing, but I'm open to movies or to spending as much time as possible at your place or mine, Chris. Maybe start fresh together?".

"Yeah, definitely", he squeezed the top of her hand with his right fingers before kissing it, "I just have a few phone calls to make once we get back to headquarters, and then we can break Umbrella's back before we start the 'today is the first day of the rest of our lives' philosophy, OK?".

"Sounds like a plan", she momentarily gripped the back of his skull with her other hand and pressed her forehead against his, "But for now, that's your uniform cleaned up. The laundry stopped. It means the dryer will take about twenty minutes to do its bit and we can get dressed?".

The young woman let go of him, stood up from the table and stretched again.

"Look, I'm going to take a shower. Get this grime off", she uttered as she scratched her hair, "I can still smell that awful place from yesterday on me. Once I'm done, we can start to depart?".

"That's fine", Redfield nodded back, "What do you want me to do while you're there?".

"Nothing", she smiled back, "Just finish your breakfast and try not to kill the cat".

She kissed him on the forehead and proceeded out of the kitchen, leaving him alone with the feline who remained on the table and now inspected the remnants of milk that still rested at the bottom of her empty cereal bowl. Once he was left alone, the marksman took another bite of cereal as he heard his girlfriend entering the bathroom, turning the light on, and then starting the shower.

He took a second bite, and then stopped eating, placing the spoon on the table as the prospect of more breakfast just didn't sound as appealing any more, even though he knew he should still be hungry. The young man rubbed his face again, wishing the tension that was there would leave him by now. He asked why so many hours of sleep hadn't physically relaxed him as much as he expected it to.

Redfield was still wondering about that question when he casually pushed his half-full bowl of milk and cereal in the cat's direction, Valentine's pet eagerly accepted the offering as it began to purr and shoved its head into the food. Sighing to himself, the marksman stood up from the chair and breathed out as he left the kitchen, knowing that there was only one place he would like to be at this moment.

He kept walking until he reached the outside of the closed bathroom door, and pressed his back against the wall that was just next to the doorway, breathing in and out several times as he counted from one to ten. He then repeated the process twice more. By the time he was finished, it was at least two minutes after Valentine had started showering, and it was only then that he acquired the bravery to loudly knock on the bathroom door.

"Yeah? You need something, Chris?", she loudly asked from the other side of the door, speaking over the sound of pouring water.

"Uh, can I come in?", he requested, hoping that she heard him and he wouldn't be required to repeat what he said.

A pause from inside the bathroom. The silence was long enough that it would've been intimidating to any other man. But it was a good thing that he wasn't any other man, Redfield thought to himself.

But the question still remained - why wasn't she responding?

"Sure, Chris", she finally answered while shutting the shower water off.

It was his sign to happily grip the knob and open the bathroom door, before he went inside the smaller area and closed the door behind himself.

------------------

It was thirty minutes later when the couple emerged from the shower, leaving the steam-filled bathroom behind as Valentine had a somewhat moist towel wrapped around her figure and was using a comb to brush her wet hair. The young woman had proceeded towards her bedroom, picking out an RPD standard-issue light blue blouse and navy blue knee-high skirt, along with a black belt and similar-coloured shoes. As she did so, Redfield was busy withdrawing his dried clothes from the washing machine, glad to not be smelling sweat, blood, vomit, or just the overall decaying stench that had accompanied the zombies.

With the STARS uniform and his boots in his hands, the marksman quickly joined her in the bedroom, gladly throwing the items of clothing on her bed, feeling eager to report to the RPD with her by his side.

"Uh, I'm going to change, Chris", Valentine addressed him with look on her face that stated she was curious as to why he followed her here.

"I know. Go right ahead", he uttered back as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You're incorrigible!", she exclaimed as she placed her left hand on the side of her hip, that elbow bent while she leaned her head to the side.

"No point in being shy after last night and this morning, right?", Redfield countered, "After all that, what's the harm in watching now?".

"Fine, whatever", Valentine sighed, conceding that she'd be finished and on her way to report to work sooner by agreeing with him, "But once we're done, I better _not_ be taken to Burger Kong for dinner. A girl's got standards, you know".

"Don't worry, I have a $10 bill in my pocket", he grinned back, "We'll eat like royalty".

This was going to be the best day of his life indeed.

-----------------

It was a fifteen-minute walk to the RPD before agents Redfield and Valentine walked through the front door of their place of work. Oddly enough, the first officer who was exiting the building as they went inside shot an angry look at them both, that older man momentarily stopping his march out of the door, almost as if he was considering the option of confronting them both about something he was offended over. After a few seconds, that unknown RPD official turned away from them and continued his walk outside, starting his foot patrol.

Wondering what was the matter with that man, especially considering that she'd never seen him before, Valentine turned to Redfield as he held the door open for her.

"Do you know what that was about?", the young woman asked before the marksman curiously shook his head, indicating he was as confused as she was.

"Doesn't matter", he indicated as they came into the lobby and headed towards the desk sergeant, "If he's got a problem, he'll let us know. We got that fucking corporation to destroy first. Hope the chief is here today".

Oddly, the few, stray officers who were around stopped whatever conversations they had been having and quietly stared at them also, a few of the cops whispering to each other after the sudden change in the atmosphere was noticed. Valentine was busy looking over all the strange faces, and getting a bad feeling about where this situation was leading, as Redfield ignored the mystery and addressed the sergeant anyway.

"Hello, sergeant... Branaugh", the marksman greeted the older man behind the desk, "Name's Chris Redfield, STARS team alpha. I was wondering if...".

"I know who you are!", Branagh growled back.

"Man, what's your _problem_?", the young man finally shot back, "Are you gonna tell me where the chief is or not? I don't have a beef with you. Just tell chief Irons that I request an audience with him, OK?".

"Chief Irons is expecting you", the sergeant curtly informed him, "And you're late. He'll address you when he has the time".

"Yeah, whatever", the marksman countered, "I'll be at my desk. And whatever issues you've got, just remember that the department offers free counselling in regards to anger".

He scoffed as he turned away from the reception desk and headed towards his work station, casually holding Valentine's hand in the process and only then noticing how much more tense than himself the female officer was.

"What's the deal with these people?", he thought out loud first as they walked further, receiving more of the same kinds of silent, aggressive greetings.

"I don't know", she whispered back, "But I have a really bad feeling about this, Chris. Look, I need to get something out of my locker. I'll meet you at your desk? And we probably shouldn't do this just now, Chris".

She intentionally, though gently, let go of his hand after squeezing it extra hard, indicating that they shouldn't be advertising their status as a couple just yet. To her relief, he didn't protest.

"You want me to go with you?", the young man offered.

"No, no, it's OK", she reassured, "You should be at your desk in case the chief shows up now. He's probably ticked off that we're late, after everything that happened last night. I can imagine the amount of questions he had to answer from the mayor and the media. So probably wasn't a good idea for us to sleep in and then take our time getting here".

"Then I'll apologize for us both", Redfield went on, "But they can't _possibly_ be that pissed off over that, not considering where we were yesterday and where they weren't. And I'm _not_ liking what I'm seeing from them here, Jill".

"I know. Me neither", Valentine agreed, "But my locker's just around the corner from both our desks. Let me go there and I'll be back within a minute?".

"You got it", he instinctively reached forth and kissed her on the cheek before he realized he shouldn't have done that.

The machines expert sighed at his reaction, but then smiled regardless at noticing that he hadn't done so on purpose. She parted ways with him, feeling worried and tense at the same time, and subconsciously moving her right hand over her sidearm, just to confirm that the weapon was still there. She didn't know why she needed to make sure of its presence, especially in the middle of a Police station, but she suddenly didn't feel that she was safe among her colleagues.

That left Redfield alone as he proceeded towards his desk, watching her walk away the entire time, and ignoring the additional hostile faces he passed along the way. The young man reached his work station and casually sat down on the desk surface, no longer wishing to relax on the chair that was provided, feeling on edge as he quietly returned the stares he was receiving from passer-by's.

He counted from one to ten on four subsequent occasions, until he saw Valentine coming back towards him, and he gladly stood back up to his full height so as to greet her.

"You good?", he inquired before she quietly and quickly nodded several times.

It was the only interaction they had time for before chief Irons showed up, causing both agents to turn their attention towards him, even as several other officers stopped moving past Redfield's work area.

"Sir, if you have the time, I'd like to...", the marksman started speaking even as he noted the irate look on Irons' face.

"Save it!", the older chief interrupted, causing Redfield to quiet down as Valentine slowly crept closer to her consort, "You both have a lot of explaining to do. And to make matters worse, you're not even on time!".

"Sir, with all due respect, after what happened yesterday, I think we deserve some time to...", was all Redfield got to say before he was stopped again.

"You don't deserve shit!", the head of the RPD shot back, causing Redfield's facial expression to appear angry for the first time today, "I have _two_ witnesses who've come to me last night, complaining that you _STARS_ guys were flying erratically last night, and almost crashed your helicopter into their car while they were driving down the road. The mayor's been involved with the mess that _you_ created. In addition, you were seen drinking _and_ firing your weapons for no good reason into the air after the helicopter was landed".

"What!", Redfield's surprise was obvious on his face while Valentine only looked from him to the rest of the crowd who was surrounding the couple, the young woman not feeling as shocked as the marksman was.

"Look at you!", Irons angrily continued, "You two are acting more like a couple than a pair of cops on the job! Were you fornicating on the job last night when I _personally_ sent you to search for Bravo team! Getting so drunk that you managed to kill _two_ of your own? Do you even _know_ where captain Wesker's and officer Frost's bodies are?".

"That is absolutely NOT what happened!", the young man insisted while pointing his right index towards the Police chief.

"Save it for your lawyer, Redfield", his superior stated while brushing his denial aside with a wave of his hand, "You're both ordered to report to room 217 immediately to take a saliva test to inspect for the use of a controlled substance. And after you're done _that_, you're to report to my office immediately for further instructions".

With that, the older man turned and walked away from the scene, ordering officers to get out of his way in an annoyed fashion, repeating how much of a disgrace the STARS teams proved to be to his department.

"It's nice to see that getting your hole filled was more important than our friend's lives!", one of the many officers who had been around the work station uttered while addressing agent Valentine.

Despite having already accepted that her fellow officers had been lied to, the young woman was still shocked to hear that accusation, to the point where her eyes and mouth momentarily widened in surprise. However, it was the only reaction she had time for as Redfield screamed back on her behalf.

"Hey! You DON'T talk to her that way!", the marksman barked as he proceeded towards the uniformed man who had made the statement, "You don't _fucking_ talk to her like that! You hear me? Not to her, not to anyone who came out of that copter last night! You fucking grunt! Cop or no, I will PERSONALLY kick your ass from here to next week if you don't back the hell off! If I hear anything else from you...".

His forward march towards the antagonistic cop, as well as the man's many colleagues, was stopped when Valentine gently placed both hands around his upper arm and whispered into his ear that they needed to leave that area. Redfield temporarily protested, wanting to pull away from her and engaging in a confrontation with his adversary, but the young woman pulled at his arm with more effort, which thankfully succeeded this time.

The STARS machine expert anxiously walked away from the hostile group, glad that the marksman was moving alongside her. The last thing she wanted to see was him starting a fight that she knew he wouldn't be able to win on the long run.

-----------------------

"What the hell's WRONG with those guys!", agent Redfield paced the ground outside the RPD building while agent Valentine was seated on a three-foot high flower bed near him.

"It's Umbrella, Chris. Don't you see it?", the female specialist let him know, reacting in a much calmer fashion.

"What? Wadda you mean?", the marksman stopped walking back and forth in an agitated manner.

"When you were arguing with all those guys, it occurred to me that those drug results we took are going to come back positive", the young woman stated, "Maybe for hallucinogens or something. It's Umbrella covering its tracks so it'll survive after yesterday's events. That asshole Wesker was right about one thing - Umbrella's everywhere. Did we _really_ think it was just going to roll over and let us _step_ on it?".

"But we're cops!", Redfield protested, aggravated at the obstacles he was encountering, "How can they not _believe_ us!".

Valentine only smiled at his naivety.

"None of those guys _know_ us, Chris", she explained soon afterwards, "They only knew Wesker and Joseph. Joseph was clean, obviously, but he can't _be_ here to support us. All they have left are dead colleagues and strangers who appear to have been high on drugs, along with fabricated witnesses to our misbehaviour. But getting mad at them won't solve anything. What are you wanting to do? Get into a fistfight with fifty cops?".

"Oh damn!", the marksman's facial expression suddenly changed from one of anger to another that showed panic.

"What is it?", Valentine inquired as she kept her eyes locked on his.

"We were late today!", Redfield pointed out the obvious.

"Yeah, I know, Chris", she gave him a small smile, "What's the problem?".

"I don't think anyone else from our team _was_!", the male officer continued as he fearfully gripped his mouth with his left hand, "Jill! What about Becca! Oh my god! What if she came here at the start of her shift and faced that hell all by herself?".

"Oh, Jesus!", the machine expert lowered her head and grasped her hair with both palms as she remembered the young medic.

"I expected a goddamn _welcoming_ committee waiting for us here, Jill!", Redfield continued, "Not _this_! That's why I was fine with leaving her alone yesterday".

"I know. I know!", Valentine raised her head back to meet his gaze, and then stood up to be on her feet, "Chris, we both screwed up. But no point in crying over spilled milk. All we can do now is find out where this girl lives and go there to make sure she's OK".

"Right, right", he partly relaxed as he agreed, making her feel better that her tactic of making sure he wasn't solely responsible for leaving the teenager alone seemed to work.

"Do you know where she lives?", she asked next.

"No", Redfield thought out loud, "But I know how to find out. There's the RPD database on the mainframe in there".

He pointed past them both, back to the front door of Police headquarters.

"I can find out where every person who was with us yesterday resides", the young man explained, "In fact, we _both_ can".

"In that case, I say we go and find out", Valentine patted him on the shoulder before they began marching back into the hostile environment that they had emerged from a short time ago, "By the way, Chris, Irons _did_ say he wanted to see us after the saliva sample was given. Shouldn't we see him?".

"What the hell for? So he can tell us we're suspended? Fuck him", the marksman commented as he held the front door open for her again, "The sooner we're out of this building, the better for everyone involved".

----------------------------

It took agents Redfield and Valentine less than half an hour to make their way towards the five-bedroom apartment that agent Chambers was sharing with four Raccoon City University students, the young medic having already graduated from there. Upon reaching the front door, the two STARS alpha agents stood on either side of the doorway, the marksman checking the status of the doorknob. They were both surprised when they noticed that the door was unlocked, so carefully pushing the door open, the young man called out the medic's first name.

"I'm here!", the teenager responded from within the large apartment, though her tone of voice was shaky.

The couple quickly came inside, closing the door behind them and proceeding towards the room that Chambers' voice had emanated from. Along the way, they did a quick visual survey of the place, noticing that the other four bedrooms and the kitchen seemed to be unoccupied.

"Becca?", Redfield called out her name again, this time softer, as he and Valentine walked into the girl's bedroom.

Sitting on the floor, with her back to the corner, and facing the doorway that led into her room, the medic was busy blowing her nose into a tissue. She was dressed in jogging bottoms, sneakers and a light, hooded jacket. Having utilized the hanky, she rolled it into a ball and tossed it away, which accounted for the semi-circle of over thirty, similarly-used balls that were around her. In addition to those used tissues, a half-empty box of fresh handkerchiefs rested on the floor next to her left hand, while a Beretta handgun was on the floor, near her right hand.

Seeing him there, Chambers used her hands to dry the rest of the tears off her face as she hurried to stand up. She then dashed across the room and rushed into his arms, embracing the older man who simultaneously hugged her back as she cried on his upper chest.

"I'm _so_ sorry I left you yesterday, sis", he whispered into her ear as Valentine moved away from them and picked the medic's 9mm handgun off the floor.

"Yesterday, I didn't know where you were gone and I looked around", the teenager talked back more quickly than she was used to as she separated from him, "And I got in today, and everyone, they think we killed them, Chris. And they were so mean, Chris, and they ganged up on me".

"I know, I know", he sighed in frustration, "Are you here alone now?".

"Uhuh", the medic nodded her head, "All my roomies are on break. They flew out to Cancun for two weeks just a few days ago".

"Fine, whatever", Redfield added, "Then this place will have to be empty, Becca".

"What? What do you mean?", the younger woman asked as she looked up at him, then turned her attention towards Valentine as the machine expert rejoined the group with an extra pistol in her hand.

"From now on, you stay with either me, or Jill here, or Barry, at all times", the marksman curtly told her, "No being alone for you _ever_. OK?".

"Uhuh, I'd like that", the teenager agreed without any protests, nodding vigorously and prompting him to gently squeeze both her upper arms.

"Did you see anyone else from yesterday in that building?", Valentine asked in her own turn as Redfield partly turned away and began digging into a pocket within his uniform.

"No, I don't know what happened to Barry or Brad or Richard either", the shorter woman explained, "I was the only one there at the time. But I wouldn't be surprised if _all _them decided to leave that awful place after the reception we got".

"In that case, I'm very glad I wrote down everyone else's address too", the only man there thought out loud as he withdrew a cigarette and lit it, "Let's go for a walk, ladies. Two simple rules from now on. No separating from each other, and no separating from your weapons".

"Hey. Hey!", instead of the agreement he had been expecting, the teenager shot back as she pointed towards the cigarette which was hanging out of his mouth, "What is _that_?".

"What?", the young man asked, genuinely curious.

"You promised you'd quit if we survived yesterday, Chris!", Chambers passionately countered as Valentine smirked to herself.

"Oh, that!", Redfield finally remembered, "You can't _hold_ me to that, Becca. I didn't think I'd be alive now, so whatever I said back then doesn't count".

"What! That's the stupidest...", she lightly growled as she pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and then reached into the same pocket of his clothes that he had used a few seconds ago.

The medic withdrew the pack of cigarettes that were there, intentionally throwing those items into the trashcan that was available in the room. Her actions only led Valentine to smile wider as the older woman looked away, even as Redfield was glad that the teenager seemed more relaxed now than she was when they first came into her home.

"Who are we visiting first?", the machine expert asked as the three of them headed towards the apartment's front door.

"Depends on who's closer", the marksman unfolded a piece of paper, comparing the addresses on it to their current location.

He sighed again when he understood that this wasn't going to be a good day at all. In fact, it might've easily been one of the worst days of his life.

What's even worse, it had only begun, and he wasn't even allowed to smoke while enduring it.


	48. Chapter 38 Future Plans

The second-floor apartment door that was written down as Brad Vickers' home address was closed, no one from the other end answering despite the repeated knocks and calls for the man's name. It was after the three STARS agents were coming back down the stairs and past the first floor apartment below that someone caught their attention.

"Are you guys cops?", the person who asked the question turned out to be a boy in his early teens, who was addressing the three officers from the doorway to his apartment, while the person who seemed to be his father stood just behind him.

"Not for long", Redfield murmured under his breath as Valentine lightly slapped him on the upper arm.

"Yes, we are", the machine expert informed the parent and child from several yards away, raising her voice to be heard, "I don't suppose you know where Brad is, do you?".

The boy only shook his head.

"Any idea when he's coming back?", the woman asked next.

The teenager first looked up at his father and then back at the three strangers.

"I don't think he's coming back here", he added.

"What makes you say that?", Valentine casually stepped towards him as she followed through, Chambers and Redfield walking behind her while the latter two were more on their guard.

"He came here all upset about an hour ago, and then left with two suitcases", the boy explained, gripping the side of the doorway, nervous despite Valentine's best effort to put him at ease by bending down so her face was on the same level as his, "When he passed me on his way out, he threw me his door-key and said that I was welcome to go up there and help myself to his TV, VCR, SNES, microwave, mini-fridge, and anything else I can find before the landlord has his stuff removed at the beginning of next month".

"That's when rent's due", the father stated afterwards, explaining why Vickers' items would be removed then if the officer hadn't financially maintained his tenancy.

"Is Brad OK?", his son questioned next, "We weren't friends or anything, but he was cool and all. He always said 'hi' to us".

"He _did_ seem to be taking his clothes with him and no other belongings", the father added afterwards.

"Ah, right", Valentine gave a fake smile as she stood back up to her full height, "Look, can we have that key to look through his apartment?".

"You his friends?", the younger person questioned.

"Do we LOOK like his friends!", Redfield countered from behind the machine expert.

"Chris...", Valentine partly gazed back at him, prompting the marksman to quiet down, though she suspected he wasn't any less agitated.

"Well, sure, long as I'm not gonna see you coming back down with a TV in your hands", the boy warned as he reached into a pocket.

"Don't worry", the older woman lightly laughed, "We're just worried because he ran off from work without an explanation, and we want to see where he might've gone. If he's not coming back, then all his items are yours, I promise".

"Much obliged", Redfield thanked the teenager as the latter casually tossed a house key towards Valentine, who caught it and gave the boy a genuine smile this time.

"You'll get this right back", the older of the two women promised as the three agents went back upstairs.

Once in officer Vickers' apartment, Redfield, Valentine and Chambers noted that the one-bedroom home appeared more like a tech lab than a place of residence, with computers, monitors, and bits of hardware scattered throughout. But the STARS agents found nothing in particular that could prove to be useful to them. As they had been informed downstairs, only the pilot's clothes and wallet were missing, indicating that he took whatever money he had with him.

"Says in this letter from, his parents, is it?", Valentine examined one of the pieces of mail that was delivered to that address a few days ago, "Apparently, Brad's family is from a town named Delucia. Would explain that shit about those flowers he was always going on about".

"He probably went back there", Redfield thought out loud as he examined the contents of Vickers' refrigerator, "If that's where he's from, maybe he's better off with his friends and family there than in this shithole anyway".

The young man withdrew a can of beer before closing the fridge door, and nonchalantly pulled back the ring before drinking the beverage inside as he joined the two women back in the living room.

"I'm guessing he quit and is on his way to get the first train back home, then can't…", Valentine stopped as she saw what Redfield was doing, "Chris!".

She glared at the young man, who stared back at her after his second sip of beer.

"You weren't going to share?", the machine expert sarcastically chastised him as Chambers quietly giggled to herself while setting the only phone down, and then standing several feet away from them both.

"Plenty more in the fridge", the marksman let them know, "You want me to bring two more?".

"Nooo!", Valentine quickly responded while holding her left palm towards him, "Had a very bad experience with alcohol a long time ago. Never touched that stuff since".

"I'm in enough trouble, Chris", Chambers added, "I don't think I'd like it anyway. It's just hops, yuck".

"So where does that leave us?" the young man wondered out loud as he set the half-empty can on the nearest computer monitor, "We should probably pay Barry a visit first, and then Richard, considering Aitken ain't gonna be at the address I have on me".

"Actually, I think he is, Chris", the medic countered, "I just got off the phone with Raccoon City Hospital. And well…Richard checked himself out first thing this morning against doctor's orders. Nurse said it was because he was… eager to get back to work". Rebecca trailed off at the end as though she had something to feel ashamed about.

"Ugh!", Redfield raised his arms in the air in a frustrated fashion, "In that case, let's go see _him_ first. At least Barry has family who are there. That alright with _you_, Jill?".

"Yeah, one, then the other", she let him know, "Don't care about the order".

As the two female officers went towards the apartment door, though, Redfield turned around and headed back towards the kitchen.

"Chris?", Valentine called from the now-open doorway.

"I'm bringing the beer along", the young man replied, "Get the feeling Aitken would appreciate it. Courtesy of us and Brad".

-------------------

The three STARS agents took almost an hour while searching for the small street where officer Aitken's address was located. Having failed to find their specific destination, they had ultimately conceded and hailed a taxi to take them there.

Arriving, the two uniformed individuals and the plain-clothed medic made their way to the first floor of the apartment building where they believed Aitken to be residing. Once there, they knocked on the door marked as 'B3', and weren't surprised that the Bravo communications expert soon looked at them through the miniature hole in the door, and then answered.

"Hey, brethren", the man who had been stabbed by the tyrant less than a day ago grinned as he kept the door open and walked back into his apartment.

"You doing OK, Rich?", Chambers asked first while the three visitors followed him and closed the door afterwards.

"Not really", Aitken went on as he sat down on the edge of his bed, looking a lot thinner than he did during his patrols in the mansion, due to the fact that he wasn't carrying several different kinds of weapons and dozens of rounds of ammunition to accompany them, "Had the most fucking bullshit day of my life, and it's barely lunchtime. I was planning to call you in a bit, so you beat me to it".

"I think she meant the fact that you got skewered yesterday, man", Redfield tossed a plastic grocery bag with half a dozen cans of beer within it on top of the bed as he entered the room.

It was only then that the marksman noticed the amount of handguns and rifles that were covering the floor, the surface of the cabinets and the bed itself.

"Are you, like, one of those survivalist nutjob types?", the young man asked Aitken next, still unable to believe that his fellow agent from Bravo team had so many weapons in his home, "All this firepower is even more than _Barry_ keeps in his place".

"Yes", Aitken answered with a serene grin, before it quickly faded, indicating that the smile wasn't genuine, which was clear from the tired lines on his face, "I take it you three are here because of the same reason I'm home early from work?".

"Uhuh", Chambers sat next to him and placed one of her hands on his upper thigh, "Nasty place with everyone growling and getting suspended".

"Except that Chris and I didn't bother staying around to be suspended after our drug tests", Valentine informed the group as she and the marksman remained on their feet.

"Hey, I got you _both_ beat", Aitken grinned again, "I didn't even stay _around_ for the drug test. No way in hell was I pissing in some cup while some weirdo who's Irons' special bitch watches me".

"But it was a saliva swab, Rich", the medic gave a sad smile from next to him.

"Ah, right", the communications expert rubbed his face with both hands, "Well, regardless, if you're here, I'll just tell you now".

He locked eyes with Chambers first, and then with the two agents from Alpha team, though he visually passed Redfield's and Valentine's positions quickly, returning to where the teenager sat.

"I'm not gonna be around here much longer", Aitken flatly uttered, "I'm just gathering my things and moving back home".

"Oooh, Rich!", Chambers dejectedly stated, placing an arm around his upper back.

"You sure you wanna do this, man?", Redfield comfortably crossed his arms in front of his chest, "It's exactly what Vickers did, as far as we can tell".

"Definitely", the Bravo agent confirmed with a nod of his head, "Look, my adoptive parents never wanted me to be a cop in the first place. I got my love of guns from them, yeah, but not this law and order crap we got going. They always said it was because I've seen one too many Chuck Norris movies. All they wanted was for me to join them in the family business. They own a pretty large wine business down south".

"Not telling you how to think, Richard, but if you quit now, it's giving Umbrella and its puppets exactly what they want", Valentine added, "Which is an admission of guilt. I doubt you'll ever be able to be a cop again".

"Yeah, I figured that when they came up with the fake witnesses", Aitken laughed before coughing several times, then holding his stomach due to the pain there, "Erratic flying and alcohol consumption, indeed. But I'm done, Jill. A cop for three and a half long years, and every time I talk to Mom and Dad, on the phone, in person, it doesn't matter, they ask me when I'm coming back. Till today, I thought that this stupid job was worthwhile, guys, even after last night, and I came across some weird things then that I never thought I'd face in my life. Hell, forget dealing with car accidents, domestic violence, robberies or the occasional hostage situation. Here I was shooting at things that weren't supposed to exist".

"We all were", the medic looked down as she added.

"I know", Aitken gently patted the top of her head before resuming, "And even after surviving last night, I wasn't giving up on this, guys, still finding it worthwhile to be on the job. But I stopped thinking that after this morning, and I'm not about to go against my parents' friendly nagging to return to the business in favour of being a cop any more. I spent two, _two_, long hours this morning telling everyone at the RPD about what happened to me last night and what you guys told me about Umbrella and Wesker, and do you know how many cops believed me?".

When none of his three colleagues answered, being able to guess what the answer was, the communications expert touched his right thumb and bent index finger together, marking the number zero.

"I'm not going to keep putting my parents through this constant worry that something will happen to me", he added while standing up and resuming his task of packing up his many weapons into gymbags, "Not for some Police Department that's treating me like a criminal. It was amazing how easily this RPD chose to believe Umbrella over me, considering how long I've been a cop with a spotless record. And I'll tell you guys this. Seeing how Umbrella managed to come up with several witnesses to discredit us in about 12 hours, I already know it's going to provide positive drug results for you three also".

Valentine indifferently looked at the floor as he spoke, wishing she hadn't already figured that fact out for herself.

"I'll tell you guys what else", Aitken continued speaking as he also packed when no one contributed anything new, "This city's fucked. No way was what happened last night only an isolated incident, and Umbrella will survive despite the bloody nose we gave it last night. So another bunch of this shit's gonna happen again. Probably right here, and STARS isn't going to be around after today to kick the fuck outta them. Unless, of course, you're thinking that a bunch of ignorant foot patrollers who are armed with water pistols and have trouble telling their ass from their elbow is going to be able to counter the danger that last night's creatures posed when the monsters return for round two. I have a _very_ bad feeling about this city and its odds of surviving on the long run, so I'm not sticking around".

"I wish there was something I could say to make you change your mind", Valentine volunteered first, "I'm sure all of us are thinking that".

"Hey, it's not that I want to go, but I need to", the male agent from Bravo team went on, "I feel lousy about turning my back to STARS, considering that's where I met Enrico. He and I have been friends since that day he was cursing and swearing at everyone in Spanish, and I turned around and responded in high school Spanish, and said that our supervisor probably did not fuck pigs".

He laughed at the recollection.

"Enrico…", he stopped talking for an instant as he remembered the older leader, "That guy was my mentor. He was brilliant. I've been following him about since I joined STARS. With him not being about, I wouldn't be in Bravo team in the first place. I was trained by him for such a long time, and he used to look up to Wesker so damn much. Should've heard him talk, acted like Wesker was the second coming for law enforcement. And he used to worry so much about you replacing him, Chris".

He stepped towards Redfield and slapped the marksman on the arm in a friendly fashion.

"And no offense, Redfield, but none of us had anything on him", he continued, "Without Enrico around, it's just not gonna be fun any more. How many other bosses let you take your standard weaponry, plus five of your own choosing? And now he lost his life to this job. But as far as I'm concerned, Enrico was avenged when Wesker got gutted, and even though I'm sure there's plenty more cops on Umbrella's payroll, I'm not planning to stick around till I'm one day found to have been in an unfortunate accident where my brake lines were cut, as noble a death as that may be".

"But it means that STARS is taking one hit after another, Richard!", Redfield protested, "For every one of us who died last night, two are quitting now? Who's going to be left around to fight Umbrella, then?".

"Not me", Aitken shook his head as he finished packing, "If you want a CB wired to China, I can help you. Or if there's a warehouse of people needing shot, I can do that too. But all this espionage stuff, taking down corporations, just not my thing. I'm pretty sure this town's been left to the sharks. I called my parents once I got back from work. Dad's ecstatic that I'm leaving the Police and coming home. Didn't really bother to officially resign or anything, just packing some personal guns and driving south till I get home. Haven't really told my parents what caused my sudden change of heart, but I'll tell them about last night once I'm settled down at home"

He looked at each of the three agents there again as he continued.

"And I advise you guys to leave this town also, and tell Barry to do the same", he added, "Brad was right. This place is a lost cause. And look, my parents are pretty rich, guys. If my friends from STARS wanted to come along, I'm sure you could, both you and your loved ones, I mean. I can take you guys _far_ away from this damn city and my parents will find your families a place to stay and jobs within their company. What do you say?".

The process of locking eyes with Redfield first and Valentine second ended with Chambers, and Aitken continued looking at the teenager as he kept talking.

"It _does_ mean that you'll never be cops again", the communications expert went on, "But really, so what? After today, what do you think our chances are anyway? _All_ our reputations as official Police are shot now".

"No, no, NO, man!", Redfield countered while waiving his forearms in front of his chest, getting his three colleagues' attention, "I came to Raccoon City to settle _down_, not be hounded out by being a quitter at best or a fugitive at worst!".

"You won't be a fugitive", Aitken added as he stood back up, "Umbrella just wants us out of its hair. It doesn't care _what_ we do as long as we're out of here and keeping our mouths shut".

"That's _exactly_ the reason to stay here, though", the marksman replied, "Considering what they're trying to do to us, and to everyone else. Hell, you've seen what these assholes are into, Rich. We're obviously needed here. That's why Umbrella wants to get rid of us. Why should we lie down and take what they give us without dishing some payback?".

"So you're adamant on protecting people who believe Umbrella's fake witnesses over your own word, huh?", Aitken asked back, causing Redfield to silently grit his teeth when he remembered the hostile reception he had received earlier today.

"They have no _reason_ to trust us, Richard", Valentine answered on her consort's behalf when it became obvious that the marksman wasn't answering due to being too infuriated at the memory he was provided with, "Everyone who survived last night is new to the RPD. None of us has any clout, any friends here. And you have to remember, it's _their_ friends who are dead due to our so-called recklessness and drinking".

"So you're with him?", Aitken addressed the older of the two women while nonchalantly pointing towards Redfield.

"Definitely", the female agent lightly grasped the marksman's elbow as she replied, "We're gonna stick together".

"What about _you_, Rebecca?", the communications expert then turned around to address the medic who was still seated on the edge of his bed.

Aitken was confused as to the reason why the teenager was angrily glaring at Valentine, but the youngest agent's facial expression then softened up as she noticed him talking to her.

"Well, I mean, I don't know", she finally uttered as she stared up into his eyes, "I would have to think about this. I mean, if I stay here _now_, is the offer still open in the future?".

"Of course it is", the older communications expert smiled as he stepped away from the small group and took a hold of a pen and a sheet of paper.

Aitken began jotting down information as quickly as possible, and then copied the same words three times, before tearing the paper into three, approximately equal parts, each section containing the same data on it.

"This is my parents' address and phone number", he handed the first piece of paper to the medic, the second to the marskman, and the third to the machine expert, "If you guys change your minds, there'll always be a place for you to stay with me there, at _any_ time".

It was the finality in his statement which caused Chambers to stand up as she locked eyes with him again, working hard to not break down in tears as she did.

"Just...", the communications specialist continued as he sighed sadly, "Keep that in mind. In fact, the sooner I hear that you guys knocked on my parents' front door and asked for me, the better I'll feel".

"It's not that I don't want to come right now, but...", Chambers spoke first as she embraced him tight, "Now that Kenneth's gone, I'll be the only one who can study what's going on. We don't have any other sources, anyone that we can trust".

"Yeah, I know, doll", Aitken smiled back as they physically parted, "But when you _are_ done studying, or what have you, or if you just plain decide that this ain't worth it on the long run, make sure you come running to me, OK?".

"Will do", the medic nodded her head several times as she sniffled.

"And you two also be careful as long as you're staying in this shithole", Aitken turned to Redfield first, hugging the marskman who placed his own arms around the communication expert's upper back, before then turning his attention towards Valentine.

"Will do, man", Redfield said in a lower tone as his colleague from Bravo team embraced Valentine last.

"Thanks for the invite", the machine expert smiled while hugging and then separating from the fourth member of the group.

"OK", Aitken sighed as he looked around his room, visually inspecting where his belongings remained, "Well, I'm almost done packing, guys. Do you wanna walk me out to my ride?".

"Of course", the only other male agent confirmed as Chambers nodded again nearby.

"Cool", the Bravo officer went on as he continued placing weapons and rifle parts within his last gym bag, the whole time ignoring the pain in his midsection, "Just, do me one last favour?".

"What's that?", Redfield asked for the group.

"Tell Irons to take his drug test and shove it up his crusty old ass tomorrow", Aitken stated, "Fat fucking serial killer that he is. He can suck my balls".

XXXXXXXXXXX

Shakahnna Warren half bounded, while her movements had an air of caution to them, even if she objectively knew there shouldn't be anything to worry about. Subjectively, though, she had felt concerne about her being near the front door of the cabin that she knew was housed by captain Wesker.

There was nothing to be jittery about, she repeated to herself yet again, as she tested the doorknob and found it to be unlocked. Pushing the door open, she heard her heart beating quicker, in anticipation of seeing the older man again. As long as it was the RPD agent and not his psychotic other self who liked to use heads on sticks as decoration, that is. But the fact that Wesker had relatively recently swallowed one of the pills that Umbrella was working on should have suppressed his darker half. Shakahnna just wished she knew for how long, and it was that last worry which was causing her to pause with anxiety even now.

Leave it up to that sadist to ruin her life, even now, as this should've been an experience that was wicked fun, since she was visiting the one person except for Chino who understood everything about her. Instead, she was spending time worrying.

Pushing the door open and peeking inside, the teenager spotted a lone, shirtless figure whose back was facing her from across the living room. Across the area which remained as impeccable now as when she had left it a day and a half ago, Wesker was busy utilizing a chin-up bar which was placed a few inches below the top of the doorframe leading to the bedroom. With his right grip wrapped around the smooth, horizontal metal bar, the older man in the sunglasses was holding on to his right wrist with his left hand. In that position, the redhead watched him perform five pull-ups before Wesker even turned his head over his shoulder, throwing a glance behind him, though he didn't stop pulling his body higher via his right arm as he smirked at her presence there.

"Oh, please!", Shakahnna grinned wider as she watched him working out, "Don't be stopping on my account".

"I won't, if you don't mind, miss Warren", the former captain replied as he returned his attention back on the chin-up bar above his head, "I smelled you coming in originally. But the experiment I'm running currently took slight precedence over greeting you".

"What?", the younger woman frowned as she inhaled the air that was closer to her armpit, "Does I be rank or something?".

"No, not at all", Wesker casually replied as she continued past his tenth one-armed pull-up and showed no sign of exhaustion, "I'm merely finding more things to learn about the side-effects of our recent adventures in the old Spencer estate. I imagine you're impressed with what you see just now".

Shakahnna pulled a face, sensing his self-satisfied grin even though she only saw the back of his head.

"Are you sure this doesn't be the effects of whatever pill you're be's taking, Weskie?", she finally uttered, unsure as to the reason why he appeared so pleased with himself, "Explain".

No response from the man in the shades as Wesker followed through to his twentieth pull-up and kept going.

"What is this experiment do you be referring to?", the teenager pressed on after several moments, "And what be's… whyfore are you doing that? I thought you had bigger things on your mind recently. Umbrella and all?".

"Miss Warren, you don't smell unpleasantly", Wesker reached his thirtieth consecutive pull-up since she arrived, "Quite the opposite. But I knew it was you at the door even before you came inside. In addition, is something causing you to be afraid?".

"I…", Shakahnna fumbled for words, suddenly wondering about the sixth sense he seemed to possess, "Does it be that obvious?".

"Not to most people, no", Wesker informed her, "But to me, yes. And here's another surprise, miss Warren. I've been indulging in some form of physical activity or another since your departure. But I've been doing this particular exercise here for almost an hour straight".

"Bullshit!", she lightly laughed back with a wave of her arm, feeling sure that he was using extreme exaggeration.

In response to her disbelief, Wesker released his hold on the chin-up bar and gracefully landed on the floor beneath. A demonstration of his newfound abilities was in order, so he twisted around and rushed in her direction, the speed of his movement causing him to be seen as nothing more than a blur to her naked eye.

Having been startled by that particular effect before when her kidnapper had made his brief appearance, Shakahnna reacted by instinctively widening her eyes and mouth as she delivered a hook punch to his face. While the former captain had planned to rush to the spot in front of her and stand there, he didn't have enough time to duck out of the way of her fist as it barrelled against his face. He stumbled a step to the side from the force of the strike, before regaining his composure with a slight shake of his face.

From where she stood, the redhead noticed a bruise on his cheek from where her fist had impacted against it, but then watched the injury disappear within several seconds, to the point where it completely vanished.

"Wesker! Jumpy!", the teenager screamed back in reaction to what she had done, "Don't be's doing none of that!".

"Not a big deal", the older man lightly shook his head while brushing the topic aside, "I should've been careful enough to not run directly into the path of your fist anyway".

"You sure you be's OK?", Shakahnna reached for his face, still remembering the bruise that she had seen a short time ago.

Hadn't she been alone in possessing the ability to heal at an unnatural rate? Since when did Wesker have the same gift?

"Uh, Weskie…", she finally uttered, noticing he was definitely unhurt, "What be's going on?".

The redhead proceeded towards the largest couch in the living room, absentmindedly dragging him after her, before she sat down on one end of the sofa and pulled him down until he was seated nearby.

"There have been some rather, unusual, side-effects, to whatever process it was you used to bring me back to life, miss Warren", Wesker carefully described, explaining the situation to himself alongside her, "Although we should not be too hasty in making that assumption. Still, though, I must wonder what else it could be".

"Well, he was madly rambling about something that he was up to", the teenager recalled, rubbing her eyes at the recollection, "I wasn't really paying attention".

"No, I suppose not", the former RPD agent went on as he relaxed his elbows on his knees and looked ahead, "Which is another one of the many aspects I need you to tell me more about, if not the most important one".

"No uh!", she shook her head, not surprisingly wanting to leave that topic for later.

"In that case, how about an update as to the status of STARS?", the man in the shades continued, willing to settle for the second-most curious question in his mind.

"Sorry, Weskie", the younger woman appeared dejected at the irony of wishing to talk about what he wanted to discuss, but now being unable to inform him further, "Chino took the day off, and we just been, well, sleeping mostly. Lots of sleeping, and I haven't even be'd at the Warrens yet, or the RPD, for that matter. So not much to report on that".

"Ah, I was wishing you did, particular in regards to any possible survivors from STARS", Wesker admitted.

"Will have to go there eventually anyway, so could ask around, Weskie", she promised, "No problem".

"I realize the irony of asking you to spy on the Police for me, considering it's how I started there myself", the former Umbrella spy went on, casually patting her on the arm and causing her to jump from surprise, "But I may have to ask you just that, especially when the body count starts to rise rather soon".

His choice in words was enough for her to stop and think about the direction that the conversation was heading in.

"Body count, Weskie?", she cringed at the memory of Claymont's death, followed by the death of half the vice-president's security team.

"The old man was just the first, miss Warren", Wesker proved her suspicions correct, without even stopping due to the recollection of his own actions, "Matters not whether I'm dealing with monsters in a forest or Umbrella employees. From now on, every bullet left over in one of my weapons is a waste of taxpayers' money".

"Oh, no! Weskie! How can you say that?", the young woman's voice shook.

"Easy, miss Warren", the experienced agent coolly countered, "You don't believe I paid for any of these armaments myself, do you?".

"Not that!", she barked back, "How many more people have you killed since we parted ways?".

"After the old man was relieved of his head? None", Wesker let her know, "I've been too busy exploring. But I've learned enough now to resume my hunt. Only thing I need of you is to keep an eye out on the RPD, and let me know if any of its members come close to learning that I'm still alive".

"Not from what Chino was saying", she told him with a sigh, "But from what I be's hearing from Chino and Donnelly, you're a bastard, a fucker, a motherfucker, a traitor, Umbrella's whore, a regular whore, someone who enjoys sucking on…".

"I get the point, miss Warren!", he curtly interrupted, feeling annoyed for the first time since escaping the mansion, the confirmation that his alter ego was in charge for the majority of STARS' time stinging his mind.

"Sorry", she whispered back, pausing to pick her words, "But Chino and Donnelly were only repeating what the people from STARS had told them".

"Any idea how many STARS members made it back to homebase, at least?", Wesker questioned, reasoning she didn't know the names of any colleagues from Alpha and Bravo teams.

"Nuh uh", she shook her head, "The whole of the RPD's be's in shambles, people everywhere are shocked to hear what your friends are saying about you. And about Umbrella".

"Friends, as in the plural tense", he went on, "So there was more than one, anyway".

"Aaannnd there's more, Weskie", she exhaled next.

"I'm waiting", he fought the instinct to hold his breath as he waited for what appeared to be bad news.

"I can't be's doing this", Shakahnna flatly stated, a look of sadness still on her face as she locked eyes with him.

"If you don't wish to be my eyes and ears at the RPD, I suppose I understand", he raised his eyebrows, as if what he heard wasn't as bad as he had expected, "It is an assignment that carries a certain amount of risk, and alienation. Although, to be fair, it can't be any more dangerous than the kidnapping you already endured, and survived, and you were never all that popular to start with".

"Huh, wadda you mean?", she curiously inquired.

"Doesn't matter just now", he slightly shook his head.

"OK, whatever", Shakahnna sighed back, "And I didn't be's meaning of the RPD, Weskie. I meant sneaking away from Chino to come here behind his back. I hate lying to him about you and about where I'm going, Weskie. You have no idea how worried he is about something happening to me again! Took me ages to convince him to let me come here alone. I can't be's doing that on a regular basis".

"I see", the former agent objectively thought out loud, "So what do you propose we do about that problem, miss Warren?".

"Well", the teenager loudly breathed in and out, "Either I need to stop coming here to see you, which I really, really, really don't be wanting, or I need to tell Chino about us, Weskie".

"Absolutely not", he countered quickly, "The fact that I'm alive has to remain a secret to everyone. It's the one advantage I possess. Or, perhaps, one of _two_ advantages I have, against Umbrella's enormous resources".

He intentionally didn't mention what his second advantage was, not when he had the issue of her cooperation by his standards to discuss.

"Weskie, I don't want to be going", she seemed to be pleading now, which was odd, considering she was only arguing for the opportunity to help him, "Please, don't be asking me to pick, because if I can't come to see you with him and he doesn't want to be leaving me alone, it's not a decision I can make! He'll keep it to himself, I promise! He won't even tell Donnelly".

"Miss Warren, you're taking unnecessary risks here, in the face of an opponent who we _know_ will stop at nothing to destroy its enemies", he followed, "And I'm saying that knowing full well of the value you'd have as an ally to me".

"It doesn't make me feel nice to have to lie to him!", the young woman complained.

"Miss Warren, listen to the comparison you're making", the older man pressed on, silently wondering how long he'd have to argue to win this discussion, "I'm stating that Umbrella will kidnap and kill you, and me too if it knows of my existence, if our secret is revealed. But you're stating of feelings that are hurt if your loved ones do not know what you are doing with your time".

"And what happens if you go nuts again?", she ultimately uttered, then hoped she hadn't angered him.

His silent stare maintained an unreadable facial expression, so it gave her the confidence to continue talking.

"You think I be afraid of Umbrella killing me?", Shakahnna added, "Do you wanna go over all the ways and things that don't kill me? But here's the best bit. Do you need to know all the things that I can live through? And he knows all them, but that doesn't change the fact that he also adopted the Jack the Ripper school of dating, and I really don't want to have first-hand experience in it again".

"Miss Warren, I have enough problems with recent events without also having someone _other_ than me and you being in on that...", Wesker stopped talking as he squeezed tension out from his eyes, staring ahead as he then returned the glasses there, "That secret".

The only result of his reply was to cause her to feel even worse about her insistence with getting her own way.

"Yeah, I know", Shakahnna finally uttered while gently wrapping one arm around his elbow and patting the top of his head with her other hand, "This whole thing must be horrible enough _without_ finding out about _him_".

She snuggled closer to the older man while his body language and facial expression remained unchanged, with Wesker staring ahead of them both while his elbows rested on his own knees.

"In fact, I be's _so_ sympathetic that I'm not even gonna annoy you for an explanation about your life with Umbrella all this time", she withdrew her face and flashed him a grin, "At least for the next hour, okeys?".

"It's a deal, then", the former STARS agent answered, "You don't mention _my_ past and I promise to let you be the only one who knows about my existence".

"WESKIIIIEEEE!", the redhead closed her eyes and gave a shrill scream of his name, feeling more comfortable since the introduction of his sarcasm.

She swallowed while breathing in and out, and opened her eyes before locking them with his sunglasses.

"Tell you what", she added next in a calmer tone, "How 'bout if I deal with you where I _only_ tell Chino and not everyone else in the city".

A grin appeared on his face, thankfully.

"He won't tell anyone else, _honest_!", the young woman continued, feeling optimistic for the first time today.

"Miss Warren, I really do not approve of this action", he returned to his usually serious demeanor, and then stopped talking.

"I can tell him? I can tell him where I'm going?", she smiled back.

"This _can't_ go any further after him", Wesker warned next.

"No, definitely not!", she confirmed, "I be'd telling you, Weskie. He won't even tell Donnelly".

"He better not", the older man stood up and visually surveyed the living room, "I suspect I'll have enough problems dealing with _one_ man who is shadowing you, much less two".

An object caught his attention, placed in a discreet plastic bag that rested near the door. It was recognized as not being a container that belonged to him, so the former Umbrella agent turned his face towards the seated teenager.

"Miss Warren, is that yours?", Wesker asked first while pointing towards the object.

"Maaaaaybe", the young woman smirked while looking towards the ceiling.

"What is it?", the tall man quickly walked towards it, his instinct to always be careful about attempts on his life over-riding his friend's indication that the package was only a gift.

"Something for breakfast, assuming you _eat_ breakfast", Shakahnna let him know as he squatted in front of the plastic bag and withdrew a wrapped, cardboard box, "And you seem to be needing it, especially as you be's a growing boy now".

"Darkspades muffins?", he read the name on the rectangular container before opening it to see the six chocolate chip muffins inside.

"I member having three boxes like that once for lunch, and it wasn't a healthy thing to do", the teenager recalled as he walked back to where she remained seated, box in hand, "Sometimes I get them for free from Darkspade's. But it's for you own health that you only be's getting _one_ box today. They be's quite addictive".

"It _does_ proudly claim to be the finest in all of Raccoon City", he casually sat down nearby and placed the container of muffins in between them both, not minding that she picked a muffin and began eating it as he rested his back against the couch.

"Mmhmmm", she agreed through a full mouth.

"So, miss Warren", Wesker went on as he picked up a muffin in his own turn, "How would you like to hear my rather detailed plans for the near future?".

She stopped chewing when she noticed that the look of barely-restrained excitement on his face had nothing to do with the dessert he held in his hand.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was a brisk knock on the door as Redfield instinctively stepped away from the doorway, while Valentine copied his action on the other side of the closed entrance. As they did, Chambers remained squarely in the middle of the main door that led to the Burton family home, sadly waving goodbye to Aitkens' car as the communications agent drove away.

Even while she was sniffling due to the separation from her Bravo team colleague, Redfield wrapped an arm around her waist and gently pulled her towards him, prompting her to not stand in the path of the door itself. The medic was about to ask why she was being made to use caution during their visit to Barry Burton's home, but she never got the chance since the older man opened the door and tiredly nodded a greeting.

"I take it you've had the welcome wagon greet you this morning", the marksman mentioned as Burton stood aside, prompting the three officers to come in.

"Unfortunately, yes", the older man confirmed as he closed the door after them, "I wasn't expecting a hero's welcome or anything, but such a rabble of rude, rude individuals. All because of that bastard Wesker. He's dead and he's _still_ causing us grief!".

"It's not Wesker, Barry", Valentine commented as they proceeded into the living room.

The agents were greeted by the sight of Burton's wife and two daughters who were busily placing personal items into suitcases and hold-alls. So that quieted Valentine for an instant before she resumed talking.

"Not this time, anyway", she continued as Moira and Poly Burton stopped and ran to hug officer Redfield, "Wesker was just an Umbrella slave. It's his master who's doing this to us".

"Hey, hang on. What's going on here?", the marksman asked while he was still crouched down, embracing his friend's daughters as he noticed the clothing that was being put away.

Burton said nothing at first, only appearing uncomfortable as he walked towards his wife and continued helping her pack.

"I don't want my family staying in a nest of vipers, Chris", the older man finally blurted out while keeping his gaze away from his colleagues.

"Oh, come on", Redfield protested while standing back up, Moira and Poly still wrapped around his legs, "Not you too! Richard already jetted and left us, as did Brad".

"Easy, Chris", Burton smiled while looking at him this time, "I'm not going anywhere".

"Oh, really?", the younger man quickly calmed down at the reply.

"No", the weapons expert lightly shook his head as he finished loading up the suitcase in front of him, "Look, I don't wanna tell tales, but my mother and brother live quite far from here, as do the in-laws. More than a thousand miles, in fact. So everyone else is going there while I stay here".

"Very glad to hear that", the marksman went on as he casually sat down on the edge of the nearest sofa while his two female colleagues remained on their feet.

"Don't get me wrong, I was planning on going too", Burton explained with a smile, "But something told me that you and Jill would be staying behind, so yours truly decided to stay too. And my wife and I talked it over, and she agreed that I should".

In response to what he said, the bearded man placed an arm around his wife's shoulders, prompting her to give what Valentine immediately recognized to be a fake smile. Though from the approving look on Redfield's face, the machines expert could tell that the marksman didn't recognize the forced approval that Mrs Burton was giving, with the young man probably thinking that his colleague's wife was such a good woman.

"So Brad and Richard are AWOL, you said?", Burton continued as two of the suitcases were zipped up.

"Yeah, Brad was missing from the get-go", Valentine let him know, "Richard's on his way to his parents now".

"Ah! So Aitkens' parents finally got their way, huh?", the oldest man chuckled back.

"Nooo!", Chambers responded indignantly on her friend's behalf, "Richard decided to do what's best for everyone involved. And considering how close he came to dying yesterday, I think he deserves to make that choice".

The teenager wrapped her arms in front of her chest as she finished talking, prompting a suddenly-uncomfortable silence in the living room.

"Yes, of course", Burton quickly replied after several seconds of quiet, wisely changing the subject and looking elsewhere, "But anyway, guys, there's more that says this is a good idea. I'm driving here with one of the guys from the RPD yesterday, and just as we reach this house, I see a car racing away from here. I'm pretty sure it only did that once the driver saw us coming".

"What? You figure you were being watched?", Redfield thought out loud as he remained seated.

Burton shot a look towards Valentine, noticing that the curiosity in the marksman's voice indicated that she hadn't told Redfield of the older man's actions in the mansion.

"Yeah, must've been", the weapons expert let him know, "I figured that maybe Umbrella was watching my home when we were flying back to base, only because I'm the only one from STARS who moved his family here to Raccoon City when I received the assignment".

He held his breath for an instant, anxiously looking over Redfield's and Chambers' faces to ascertain if they knew he wasn't being truthful. Fortunately, neither officer seemed to think so.

"Then I'm glad Moira and Poly are leaving", Redfield responded to his half-truth while standing back up, "If those guys were watching you and reporting to Wesker, they probably got spooked after that prick stopped sending them orders".

"Yeah, must've been", Valentine agreed while rubbing her own forehead, pretending to be interested in the conversation, though trying to change the subject, "But look, when are you guys leaving us, then?".

"Going to uncle Paul's this afternoon!", Moira answered on the family's behalf, obviously thinking of the trip as more of a vacation, rather than the evacuation that it really was.

"Then could you guys do me a biiiig favour?", the machines specialist asked the Burton adults next.

"Of course", the weapons expert agreed.

"I happen to have a big cat at home, and I was wondering if you guys could watch her for me while you were at your uncle's", Valentine addressed the children instead of the adults.

"That shouldn't be a problem", Mrs Burton spoke up for the first time, "You probably don't need the distraction or worry while you're here, I'm guessing".

"Thank you", the young woman told her, with more sincerity in her voice this time.

"Sure, just let me know if there are specific instructions on how to care for it?", her colleague's spouse said as she found it hard to talk and intentionally excused herself to go to the bedroom.

"Honey, how about if Jill and I go pick up the cat now while Chris and Rebecca stay here and help you finish?", Burton called after her, and received a nod from his wife.

"You OK with staying here?", Valentine asked of Redfield as Burton grabbed his carkeys and headed outside first.

"Yeah, sure, just, how long will you be?", the marksman inquired as he walked over to Chambers and lightly squeezed her shoulder.

"Objectively, about fifteen minutes", the older woman pointed out, "But since we're putting Kouskous in the car to bring her back, probably a couple of hours".

"Then don't waste time sightseeing", the young man suggested with a smile as Valentine reached towards him and they kissed on the lips.

"Of course not", Valentine walked backwards to the front door, "And Rebecca, take care of him for me, OK?".

"Sure thing, Jill", the medic gave her a less than enthusiastic reply, which prompted Valentine to wonder about the teenager's reaction as she followed Burton outside and closed the door behind her.

"Thank you for not telling them", Burton greeted her once they were both outdoors and separated from the people in the living room.

"Don't mention it, Barry", she stated as they both marched towards his car, "You've been through _more_ than enough thanks to Wesker. It's time to put that behind you".

She breathed in and out as the front passenger door was opened for her.

Climbing onto the front seat and buckling her seat belt, she couldn't help the feeling that life was about to change forever, and not in a good way. And unfortunately, the only ones who would be spared the change were three civilians and a cat.


	49. Chapter 39 Fall From Grace

"So how many goddamn years have you assholes been trained for this, huh?", agent Yuen barked as the large group of uniformed and plain-clothed officers acted as an audience, rather than doing the job they were there for.

Standing next to the young man, an equally-indignant officer Branagh eyed the targets of their blame, those being four surviving STARS agents who seemed as irate as their accusers. Other men and women surrounded the six individuals in a rough circle, officers David Elran and sergeant Neil Carlson agreeing with Yuen while letting him speak for them, or anxiously watching the confrontation, even as they waited for the nagging questions in their mind to be answered.

In the latter category, Eric Donnelly uneasily leaned back against his desk, turning his face from one end of the room to the other, starting with Branagh and Yuen, then looking at Redfield, Burton, Valentine and the nervous Chambers. For the first time in what should've been years, Donnelly didn't know what to do with his arms, so he first folded them in front of his chest, and then placed them into his pockets. His facial expression betrayed the frustration he felt at having to watch a conflict at his workplace, when he had been looking forward to doing his job on his first day here without Chisholm's presence. But considering the ruckus he was currently witnesses, Donnelly guessed it was better for the younger man to be catching up on some much-needed rest, rather than seeing the circus that was here now.

"I mean, we're not all as highly-qualified as you STARS, or whatever morons are", Yuen continue his barrage as Branagh angrily approved next to him, "I mean, you're the best, right? Only someone who's more trained than us meter-maids could get so piss drunk to kill Joe!".

"Oh, for fuck's sake…", Donnelly whispered only to himself as he breathed in and out, "They're still cops!".

He looked over his right shoulder, not sure if officer Whey had heard his reaction, as his colleague seemed even more agitated than he was. Or would Whey's behaviour be better described as nervous?

Donnelly wondered why his associate would be so uneasy just now. But he didn't have the time to ask him just yet, especially not when Whey had been a nearly total stranger to him ever since the two had met. So he turned his attention back to the heated conversation in front of everyone.

"You red-neck, backwater…", Redfield started walking towards the patrolman with the obvious intention of committing some bodily harm, before Valentine gripped his shoulder with one hand and pressed her other palm against his chest, stopping his forward march.

The Alpha machines expert used effort to coax her paramour into the nearest chair, and only then noticed that the chair didn't belong to Redfield's desk. But regardless, the marksman appeared to be close to ignoring Yuen's remarks and preparing to return to the paperwork on his desk. Despite her intervention, however, Elran smirked as he lightly punched a nearby, anxious-looking, female officer on the shoulder before turning his attention back towards the annoyed STARS members.

"Yo, Redfield", Elran called out next with the grin even wider on his face.

"What?!", the marksman slowly growled back, his face looking at his desk, but much too agitated to pay attention to the workload there.

Officer's Elran's intentions being quite clear, Valentine and Donnelly sighed and covered their respective face with a palm, even as Chambers pointed a nervous index finger at Elran in an attempt to keep him silent.

"Look, maybe, you shouldn't, you know…", the medic hushed when dozens of angry eyes nonverbally told her to stop talking.

The teenager whimpered in reaction to the hostility and slinked her way towards the spot where a calm, but exasperated, agent Burton stood. The safer to be close to the red-haired weapons expert.

"Rita here won't stop bugging me for dates", Elran happily replied while the blonde officer that he was speaking about uncomfortably rolled her eyes and nonverbally asked him to not go through with his joke, which he ignored, "So I was thinking maybe you could do a little back scratching for me? I hear you're the go-to guy for this kinda thing…. You could maybe take her for a little ride and if these monsters of yours happen to eat her en route then we'll have it be _our_ little secret. And hey, if you want to have a drink as well since you are doing me such a huge favour and all we can ignore that too!".

Most of the officers on the floor laughed out loud at the comment, while Carlson loudly clapped his own hands together before slapping Elran on the upper back with an open palm. The officer whose first name was identified as Rita, on the other hand, sadly sighed at the spectacle her name was being used to fuel, and simply opted to return to her desk, though she doubted she could get any work done with all this racket going on.

The bait was all it took to have Redfield leaping out of his chair before he charged towards Elran's position, being restrained only when Valentine and Burton teamed up to stop his attack. It was between grunts of rage from the marksman and fits of callous laughter from the usual RPD personnel that Branagh raised his voice to be heard over the banter.

"Shut up! SHUT UP!", Branagh screamed, finally prompting his colleagues from the patrol division to comply as he addressed them, "You should ALL be ashamed of yourselves!".

Donnelly heard what he perceived to be good news for the first time this morning, since one of his colleagues was finally listening to the STARS members objectively, as he had been.

"These people killed our friends!", Branagh continued his rant, convincing Donnelly that his optimism was short-sighted, "Joe and captain Wesker are dead because of them! And all you can do is make stupidass jokes like they accidentally crashed a cruiser?".

No one paid attention to officer Whey as the distraught man quickly left the area, walking away as fast as he could and disappearing into the nearest exit. He brushed past Brian Irons as the older man was making his way towards the chief's office, and the heavy-set Umbrella spy stopped to visually inspect the scene there. Noticing that his employer's enemies were discredited, as hoped by Umbrella's public relations team, he smiled to himself and continued on his way.

But from Donnelly's point of view, he couldn't stay quiet any longer. So trusting that his reputation for being hot-tempered would prevent him from being ostracized, the young man raised his palms towards the rest of the crowd.

"Come on, guys", he kept his voice as loud and steady as he could manage, considering he had more than a score of people listening to him, "We're all cops here, right? Don't any of you have some work to get done? And if you have to do this, THEN AT LEAST DO IT OUTSIDE MY FUCKING OFFICE SO I CAN DO MY JOB!".

He definitely wasn't pretending to be angry by the end of his statement. His heavy breathing was an indication of the frustration that had been building within the young man in the last few hours of delays in trying to do his work.

At least no one came up with a sarcastic remark to his comment, as people stopped smiling. Maybe now he could start addressing his responsibilities, when his shift was already half finished. Even if a typical day at work had become much more complicated now that STARS was here.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shakahnna's second order of business for the day was one that she was looking forward to even less than visiting Wesker with regards to a demand she had to make. She wasn't even sure how she felt in her own mind about how her first visit back in the Warrens' mansion would proceed, but she eventually figured that she had to stop procrastinating. So while officer Chisholm was sleeping at his own home during his day off, the redhead left the young man's apartment and took skycab towards what was supposed to be her official household.

Once there, the first thought that was used as a distraction was that she had never gotten used to its grand appearance. But regardless of its magnificent size from outside or internal décor once she walked into the visitors' lobby, the young woman knew that this mansion had never really been a home.

"Miss Warren?", the first greeting made by Mr Bustleton indicated that the butler was surprised to see her, though not unpleasantly.

The older man stood in place, unsure as to what to do, even as it was the first time she had seen him be confused.

"I thought I asked you to call me Shak", the teenager gave a tired smile as she closed the door behind herself, already having given up on captain Wesker calling her by the first name earlier, though the agent would occasionally slip.

"Where have you been?", a concerned Mr Bustleton brushed the comment aside as he approached further.

"It be's a long story there", she waved the issue away with her right hand, giving a fake smile this time as she made sure to not appear hostile at having to think of her experience, "I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you, kind of thing".

"Very well", he slightly bowed back, fortunately letting the issue drop, "Is there anything I can do for you this morning, miss Warren?".

Shakahnna internally sighed at his inability to use her first name. Maybe Mr Bustleton and captain Wesker suffered from the same inability to relax. But that was an issue for another time, when there weren't dozens of more pressing and boring, boring details to take care of.

"No, just happy and safe with the knowledge that you've been so anxious to have me back in the kitchen with you", she countered with instead, glad that the remark caused him to smile in remembrance of the many times she insisted on helping him with his chores, and only caused a clutter as a result.

"Does Michael be in?", she finally uttered, brushing aside the temporary distraction in her mind and accepting that she had to do this.

No amount of procrastinating the inevitable was going to make the task at hand any easier, so she stayed quiet while waiting for the older man to reply, hoping he would give a straight answer rather than wishing to socialize in such a way. Not that she didn't wish to speak to him, as he was the one person in this mansion besides the city's mayor who was friendly towards her, rather than being professionally polite. But catching up with old friendships would have to take the proverbial backseat, as more important issues had to be dealt with now. The first was her interaction with her foster parents, and finding out what it is they knew of Umbrella's activities, as former RPD captain Wesker was adamant that mayor Warren at least condoned, or at most took part in, those illegal and monstrous activities.

"I'm afraid Mr Warren's at City Hall, with all the unfortunate events lately, he's rarely been home all week", the older man interrupted her thoughts as he softly answered, causing her to swear to herself in frustration, "But Mrs Warren is in if you'd like to speak to her".

------

Making her way to the mayor's office, the redhead felt a mixture of frustration and anxiety at the prospect of being so nervous about this encounter, and not even having the person that she wanted to speak to the most. She was worried she'd get violent if the wrong thing was said, so it took all her resolve to grit her teeth as the closed wooden door kept coming closer. And as tempting as it was to turn around and leave this mansion, she decided to not follow that course of action, even if the mayor wasn't here. It was Michael Warren that Wesker was sure was the high-ranking member of Umbrella's board of trustees, while Elena was allegedly his arm candy. Although, the teenager had to think to herself that couldn't possibly be true, as Mrs Warren was certainly the physical representation of a donkey.

Of course, that wasn't objectively true, as Elena was an aesthetically striking woman, but coupled with what Shakahnna knew her personality to be, the older woman's value as a person plummeted. So choosing to forgo formalities, as she was probably going to physically assault her later anyway, the young woman walked past the empty secretary's desk and then turned the knob to the mayor's office. Opening the door, the teenager found Mrs Warren to be seated behind the mayor's desk, with a hard frown on her face as she was having a heated discussion with someone over the phone. Upon seeing that the redhead entered the large room, the surprised woman dropped the phone, not expecting Shakahnna to be there. She recovered quickly, though, as her face quickly shone in an alluring smile that lacked all sincerity. Mrs Warren then picked the receiver off the desk surface and hung up the phone without speaking to the person on the other end.

The mayor's wife next stood up as the redhead came closer to her, beginning to extend her arms in the girl's direction as she did.

"Shakahnna, I'm so please to...", was as far as the older woman got before being interrupted.

"Fuck you", the shorter female countered as she stopped moving on the other side of the large desk.

"But darling, I'm so relieved and...", the smile remained unchanged on the politician's face.

"No, seriously, fuck you!", Shakahnna interrupted again with a louder tone, this time pointing her right index at Warren's face.

It was enough to convince the older woman to relax her own arms by her side, but Mrs Warren's face remained friendly, even though she was rushing several thoughts in her mind. She didn't know how much the teenager already knew, and thus had to proceed with care in regards to what she said. So she decided to let the younger woman talk first, the better to get some much-needed information that way.

"You know, Elena...", Shakahnna's tone relaxed a bit as she searched for the right words, and then decided to do away with tact, "You poisonous slut".

Mrs Warren had received a large enough surprise at those words that the unexpected emotion were genuinely apparent on her face, as there wasn't a deliberate flow to the astonishment on her features.

"I always be'd knowing you worked for Umbrella, but that didn't mean anything", Shakahnna followed through next, glad her voice wasn't shaky, "Now I know _why_ that be's significant".

Mrs Warren exhaled at the mention of her employer's name, partly with disappointment that this annoying character who stood almost within an arm's reach knew more than most people did. Still, though, she wasn't going to be foolishly lured into showing her own cards by this small show in the game. But at the very least, it allowed the older woman to be herself again, lest she became irritated at having to continuously pretend to feel something she did not. So the annoyance at the teenager's presence could finally let itself be known on Mrs Warren's face.

"Listen, you little harlequin", she hissed back, less angry and more indignant at the person she addressed, "All we required from you in exchange for the best life that anyone could want is a little good press, and you failed to deliver even _that_. Anyone else can replace you and do what you're doing _much_ better. So don't think that your limited interaction with reality is going to impress someone here, OK? Because if you're expecting to take advantage of our generosity just because you _happen_ to know who I work for, you are even more senseless than even I gave you credit for".

"Oh, really?", Shakahnna interlocked her fingers and then placed her palms against the back of her skull, though mentally rushing to remember things herself, "White Umbrella may not be interested in what Wesker had to say, but what about _you_?".

The girl tilted her head to the side as her arms relaxed by her sides again, giving her best impression of a smile that indicated she knew she had the upper hand.

True to her expectations, Warren's face tensed for a moment at the mention of Umbrella's secretive branch, though she soon replaced it with an artificial calm.

"I can't believe even someone who's as much of a fucking bitch as you would let someone like Wesker take me!", Shakahnna accused next even without giving the older woman time to respond as she subconsciously walked around the desk and came closer to the mayor's wife.

"White Umbrella's just a myth", she sneered, not backing away from her standing position in front of the chair, determined to not be intimidated by the shorter person, especially not in her home and with several security agents who were within a push of a button away.

"The files from the lab in the mansion by Raccoon forest disagree, Elena", Shakahnna angrily countered at her antagonist's expected denial, "But since they're your employer, I'm sure you know that!".

"Shakahnna, dear, you obviously are in _way_ over your head here", Mrs Warren continued as she casually seemed to be rubbing the surface of the desk with her fingers.

It was a move that could've been missed by the redhead, if the teenager hadn't already guessed correctly that her antagonist was nervous. But the sign was enough for Shakahnna to know that the mayor's wife was reaching for the alarm button that rested underneath the surface of the desk. Thus, the younger woman reached for and gripped Warren's hand, forcing those four fingers as far back towards the knuckles as possible, intentionally stopping short of breaking those bones. The result was that Elena Warren's face twisted in a rare show of vulnerability as she bit back the desire to scream out in fear and remained in place so as to not give the attacker reason to follow through and break her hand. She could've gone for the panic button with her free hand, and possibly reached it while sacrificing the bones that were firmly held by the irate visitor now. Then again, if she failed to reach it during her second attempt, it would've meant incurring a certain beating without any gains.

"Don't push me, Elena!", Shakahnna warned first through clenched teeth, finally breaking the few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

A few more moments of quiet.

"Did you know what he was gonna do when he took me?", the redhead asked next in a softer voice, not letting go of her victim's hand.

"No, no!", Warren's head shook several times in denial, "I didn't know he would do that!".

"That's a lie, isn't it?", the teenager pushed against the older woman's fingers by a fraction of an inch, causing her to first give a short scream and then following it with a gasp as Warren's body crumbled further to accommodate the imprisoned hand, "Or it didn't matter when he did? Whether you saw it coming or not?".

"Why the hell would it?!", the hostage snapped back, anger taking over where pain and fear had been a few seconds ago, "You know what? I didn't know he would take you. But when he did, great! It would've solved two problems, him getting into hot water with White Umbrella, and you not being here!".

It was at this point that Shakahnna let go of her hand, and pushed her at an angle that was several feet away from the desk, keeping an eye on her adoptive mother so as to make sure she didn't reach for any other alarms.

"Maybe things would've been different if you had played along!", an irate Elena Warren continued as she returned to a fully standing position, "But no! You had to act up like this! How could you be shocked that no one here cared that you were anything more than a PR stunt?".

"I guess not, no", the shorter female started visualising herself as smashing her adversary's face against the floor, not because what this Warren said didn't make sense, since it did, but more because stopping after starting was proving more difficult than expected, so she decided to move on from here instead, "You, Michael, whatever. But before I leave...".

Shakahnna looked around and soon spotted Mrs Warren's closed laptop that rested on the edge of the mayor's desk. Recalling her intentions of wishing to break into that particular mainframe earlier, and blocking out her last conversation with poor Joseph Frost that occurred as a result, the teenager reached for the expensive piece of machinery.

"You will _not_ take that, you little bitch!", her older antagonist rushed to stand between herself and the laptop, "That is _my_ property".

Having reached the proverbial last straw, Shakahnna turned her right hand into a fist and delivered a hook punch into Mrs Warren's face. The owner of the mansion didn't have time to yell before she crashed hard against the office floor, with her aggressor exhaling a breath of satisfaction at the sight there.

"My god, you have _no_ idea who you're dealing with here, you little bitch!", the political figure on the floor exclaimed back without trying to stand back up, already coming to terms with her inability to reach for the alarm or the laptop before this visitor was out the front door, "You think you're something special because you happen to be alive instead of in pieces? Just give it time, with your attitude! We have smartalecs like you for breakfast!"

"It took Claymont a lot more before he became this indignant", Shakahnna thought out loud as she summarily took a hold of the laptop and its accessories.

She regretted saying those words as soon as she had mentioned them, realising she shouldn't give hints as to the deceased vice-president's fate to one of his colleagues. Regardless, though, the damage was done for now, and she bit her tongue to keep from mentioning captain Wesker's involvement with herself, lest she let it slip that the man in the sunglasses was still alive.

"What the hell did you _do_?!", Mrs Warren climbed up to her knees while not paying attention to the pain in her face, "How did you know about Claymont's...".

She stopped talking, aware that the teenager had knowledge of her associate's death. To make matters worse, the fact that the now-deceased vice-president was one of the few individuals in either Umbrella's compound or the outside world that she considered to be a friend infuriated Warren further.

"He wouldn't tell me about my real parents", Shakahnna finally uttered back, mentioning part of the truth and not saying anything about the rest as she turned to leave towards the office exit with the laptop under her arm, "And I'm guessing you won't either, even though you guys know everything, except what it is I fucking _want_ to know".

"We don't know! And we don't care where the hell you came from!", Warren went on while rising to her feet and speaking to her back, "What do you know about Claymont? How did you have anything to do with that all by yourself?".

It was when the teenager didn't give her the courtesy of an answer that the Umbrella employee forgot all sense of fear and propriety. Instead, she reached for one of the two handguns that she had ordered to be placed around every work station in this house after captain Wesker's break-in a month ago. As per her instructions, one firearm was within reach of the panic button on the desk, and the other was in a hidden compartment behind her chair. It was the latter one Mrs Warren withdrew and undid its safety mechanism in an effort to threaten Shakahnna for more information on her friend's death. Except that the redhead heard the click of the weapon being readied, and reflexively grabbed the nearest large object off the desk, which happened to be a lit lamp that was previously illuminating some documents. While keeping the laptop pressed against herself with the right arm, the teenager turned and flung the lamp with her left hand, the projectile getting unplugged before it smacked Mrs Warren on the face and caused her to fall backwards while dropping the handgun.

With the weapon being thrown elsewhere in the room, and her nemesis moaning in pain as she blindly rose on her hands and knees, the younger woman went against the urge to inflict more punishment on the mayor's wife and turned back to head towards the office exit. She was several yards shy of reaching it when the office door opened from outside and Joanne Warren casually walked in.

"Mom, it's, like that time of the year again", the teenager informally began talking even before she saw what was happening, "When is the skiing…?".

Joanne stopped speaking when she noticed her mother writhing in agony and rage on the floor and her eyes then darted to a familiar, but completely unexpected, presence. Outraged, the Warrens' natural daughter rushed forward as the door had closed behind herself. She launched herself at Shakahnna in a flurry of aggressive slaps and attempts at hair-pulling, groaning in effort as the redhead remained immobile, barely able to believe that she was supposed to be attacked just now. It was several seconds later that a frustrated Joanne delivered a weak punch into Shakahnna's face, which barely felt to be more than a mediocre slap by itself.

"Seriously, Joanne, what was that?", the redhead finally asked while her adoptive sister stopped and was panting to catch her breath, "I am serious. That was ridiculous. Just because you are a girl doesn't mean you have to be weak ".

"I thought you were dead!", Joanne countered, slightly calming down as she looked at the teenager, then to her mother who was rising to her feet, then back to Shakahnna again.

"I'd hate to see what your reaction would've been like if I was still alive, if this is you being pleased to see me", the redhead smirked while bypassing Mrs Warren's natural child, "And next time I'm here, you and I have work to do if that's your idea of fighting, sis".

The teenager partly turned her head to the Umbrella employee and winked as she then proceeded outside, ignoring the furious woman and the other girl who stood in place, confused at what she had seen.

"I'll hit you again, Shak, I mean it, I will, if you hurt my mom!", was the last thing she heard from her sister, before she chuckled and closed the office door behind her.

The redhead was confident that Mrs Warren wouldn't shoot her with Joanne standing there, so she quickly walked towards the mansion's main door, eager to hand what she carried to captain Wesker. Shakahnna thought of all the shit they were going to need to wade through, but hoped the laptop might yield something positive.

The cup of black coffee was scalding hot, but Dr William Birkin gulped it down anyway. The temperature of the liquid didn't make much difference to him by now, when the days had blurred into each other, to the point where he didn't know the current date or time. By now, the eightieth hour that he was without sleep, all the chief researcher could think about was his virus and its completion, where he was even dreaming about it during the few fitful hours of sleep he had previously allowed himself to have. His blood-shot eyes and bags which were underneath them were proof of his obsession with the work, even as he forced himself to eat sporadically just to keep from passing out, and drank only coffee, taking advantage of the beverage's high caffeine content. As a result, most of the food he ate and cups he drank from were either burning hot or stone cold after he had left them for several hours, but he swallowed it all down just the same.

Equations flashed through his mind as the experiments he undertook became more and more complicated, but despite his best efforts, his hands couldn't operate at the same speed as his mind. Maybe they could've done so if he had been rested, but the amount of sleep it would've required him to be in prime condition simply wasn't acceptable, and Dr Birkin wasn't allowing himself to be away from the labs, not when he was so close to fruition.

Thus, even before he was physically finished with his first batch of experiments, his mind had already wandered and began thinking about the next one.

Unbeknown to him, he was currently a far cry from the handsome young man who had arrived at Umbrella two decades ago, somewhat ignorant of the corporation's true dealings, but willing to adapt to whatever norms were required for the purpose of fulfilling his research. It was what everything came back to in the end, which was his life's work. So his physical appearance was of no consequence. Not as if anyone would see him before this project was finished. He was so close to completion that to even consider leaving for more than two or three hours of sleep tomorrow would be absolute folly.

So while he was still rushing to not fall even further behind from the equations in his mind, why wasn't this electronic intercom stopping the noise it made after he had already ignored it a few minutes ago?

"Doctor Birkin, sir?", the younger voice in the speaker tried not to stutter as the lab assistant on the other end tried to receive a reply from him for the tenth time.

"Have I not made it clear?!", the older researcher answered at last, without looking in the equipment's direction, "I do not wish to be disturbed! Now leave me in peace".

"But sir, we were told that…", was as far as the caller got.

"I'm BUSY!", Birkin almost screamed next, actually spending several seconds to lift his head off the chart in front of him and staring at the intercom, before realizing what a waste of time that was, and quickly returning to his work.

He glared ahead of himself, extremely annoyed at the interruption. But by now, the person who was trying to call for his attention had thankfully gotten the message and hung up.

----------------

Martin Walcott hurried around the right corner and passed through a single door that led to a roughly semi-circular hallway. There, he was in such a rushed state that he almost knocked over a pot of green plant that was one of several stored too close to the walking area, in his opinion. The lab assistant sighed in annoyance, remembering that he had asked one of his colleagues to not keep those pet projects lying about. His associate's reply had been that the plants have a medicinal purpose, which Walcott hadn't understood. After all, they were in one of the most advanced research facilities in the world, surrounded by many safeguards.

Regardless, though, the young man was glad none of the pots had spilled over or broken, so moving past them and ignoring the wall that consisted of a hundred television screens, he spotted the person he was hastening to see. Standing several feet in front of the monitors, Doctor Annette Birkin held a clipboard and was checking the number of screens that had an error, so the subordinate researcher cleared his throat, as this woman's husband had recently locked himself in the lab, refusing to come out for days at a time.

This particular Birkin had always been the authoritative one anyway, her husband never paying attention to anyone or anything other than his research, while Annette was more able to relegate tasks as she saw fit for the purpose of this facility. So maybe that meant she'd listen more to reason, and not force Martin to be between the proverbial rock and a hard place, where he had to pick between following orders from Umbrella's chief directors or his supervisor's disobedience of them.

"Yes?", Doctor Birkin turned her attention towards the young man.

"Uh, ma'am", the technician reluctantly walked towards her, still glad he was dealing with her and not the previous head researcher, "We received a letter delivered by hand, didn't say by who, from White Umbrella. But the courier said it should be opened by a head researcher only. And your husband, ma'am…".

He stopped talking as Doctor Birkin's eyes slightly widened.

"Well, he's not speaking to anyone again, ma'am", Walcott followed through, happy at the lack of negative reaction on her face.

Six years ago, Annette would've smiled, rolled her eyes and made a joke about how it's part of life when one is married to a genius. However, these incidents were becoming more and more frequent, which had started to make life here more difficult some time ago. So today, she only retained the clipboard in her right hand and extended her left one towards the young man, the palm up.

"If you'd be so kind", she asked with a demure smile, before the lab technician reached within his own clothes and withdrew the still-closed envelope.

The older woman recognized its content even without opening it, as her smile faded and she returned to a business-like demeanour while placing the envelope on top of her clipboard.

"It's a summons at a meeting", Doctor Birkin returned her attention to the monitors in front of her and thought out loud, the frustration at what she viewed as a bureaucratic necessity clear in her voice, "I'll see to it, Martin. Thank you for bringing it to my attention".

"Uh, you're welcome, ma'am", the technician quickly nodded before backing away until he reached the door behind him and then turned around to exit the hallway.

With the chore over, he went back to his duties, leaving the head researcher's wife alone as she opened the envelope and read its content. Unknown to Martin Walcott, though, the next words out of Doctor Birkin's lips were "Oh, shit!".

------------------------

"William, darling, you need to open the door!", Annette Birkin knocked on her husband's door for the third time, getting more impatient at the lack of noise from the other side.

She had already tried to contact him on the intercom, to no avail, which meant that William must've turned it off. And even though this wasn't normally something she'd do, she was in a position where she had to over-ride the security code to get into her husband's work area. Her keycard being one of three available in this facility to carry out the task, she hoped that her husband wouldn't be too irate at her intrusion. Regardless, though, this was a conversation that couldn't be procrastinated, no matter how adamant William was to not be interrupted before the experiment was done.

"William, it's me!", another knock on the inside wall as she walked into the room after the automatic door was open.

"Annette?", her husband actually seemed surprised at her presence for an instant as he threw a quick glance in her direction, and then turned his attention back on his work while waving his arm in her direction, "I'm busy".

She only had enough time to sigh at his lack of cooperation, when he finally lifted his head out of his experiments and looked back at her, finally aware that she wouldn't be speaking to him in this most crucial time if she didn't need to.

"Is it important?", he asked, being so generous so as to give her half his attention, one of his eyes twitching as he spoke.

There was a mixture of frustration and annoyance in his wife's voice as she began blurting out.

"If you hadn't turned off your intercom, I wouldn't even have used the…", she stopped herself, thinking that there was no point in lecturing him about his work habits, especially now, "Yes, it's important".

The sadness in her voice indicated she wasn't delivering good news.

"Y… Yes, I know", he blurted out, trying to not appear as impatient as he felt, and suspecting he failed at the attempt.

"The Arklay facility has been, uh, lost", his wife informed him at last.

"Lost? What do you mean, lost?", Doctor Birkin answered with a question of his own, not trying to hide his confusion.

"It was destroyed, darling", she rested her eyes behind her right palm, "Everything there is gone, blown up in smoke, literally. A team of STARS. They destroyed Wesker's tyrant, and he's dead".

Her husband only exhaled in response, as he leaned towards the nearest wall due to the shock from the news, his physical exhaustion only making it harder to remain still.

"WU wants us all at a meeting tonight", she continued, "So make sure you're ready to be there, William, dear".

She walked up to her spouse and gently placed her free palm on his face before then turning around.

"Sorry to bring you this bad news, darling", she mentioned before heading towards the exit.

She didn't notice the tired smile that crept on her husband's face as she left the room and allowed him to be alone for the next, previous few hours. Unbeknown to her, the head researcher she had just spoken to laughed for a few seconds before returning to his work. But at the same time, he disliked the fact that Wesker's actions had cost him most of the rest of the night.  
Such an inconvenience.


	50. Chapter 40 Reminiscing

_AN: WAH! Hello guys! YES! I'm not dead! And neither art my story. Major computer problems going on here, my hard drive was lost because the people who were doing my upgrades were idiots. I thought I'd lost everything I'd written but I haven't so now I shall be updating fairly regularly again. I hope so much that you guys are still with me because I've missed you all horribly. Be's so good to be back._

_Jasmine xxx_

-

"Have you what I requested?", Albert Wesker had asked while visiting him for the third time, the taller of the two colleagues dressed in clothes which stood out in this compound, that being the STARS outfit, along with the shades that were always on his face.

The primary topic of discussion was talks of past indiscretions coming to catch up with them both, so William Birkin had felt somewhat better at finally speaking about this issue as he led Wesker into his lab. He didn't bother checking his appearance, either on his face or in the lab coat he'd been wearing for the last several days, as he was sure his associate wouldn't care, as he himself did not.

"An interesting specimen", he handed doctor Wesker the vial that was made specifically for him, "I've not had the time to work on it as I would've liked. So as for the desired effects…".

"Your brilliance, doctor Birkin, should see to its success", the man in the Police outfit accepted the item, his face giving the closest simulation to gratitude as he was known to partake in.

"If my calculations are correct, and further test results are conclusive, it should raise any man, physically, to more than he could be otherwise", the extractor of this new virus went on with a certain degree of pride, even though he did not know the source where this specimen was found, "But I warn you, Albert. There is a period of vulnerability, when the test will put the subject in a coma-like state. Most of the canines I tested it on responded as expected, though there were later problems in their disposal, but I haven't had time to test them on humans yet. So you might want to be careful with anyone that you're subjecting to this, as they'll be very fast, very strong and very difficult to control".

"I foresee no such problems, doctor", Wesker replied in his usually distant manner, "I only have one subject in mind, and I can guarantee his cooperation".

A smirk followed as he finished talking.

"I always suspected, Albert, that your pet projects and your dedication to them would get you into trouble", Birkin gave a disapproving sigh because of the trouble he predicted would follow his colleague over this event, "White Umbrella already learned of your deception. So I must ask – does this virus have anything to do with the price on your head?".

Wesker's grin vanished at the comment.

"Let's just say it's both the cause and the solution to all my problems", there wasn't a single hint of fear, worry or even discomfort in his voice, which would've been normal for anyone else who learned that their employer wished to have them dead.

"I'm not questioning you here, Albert", the slightly younger researcher went on as the two individuals exited the lab, "But this is risky and over the top, even for _you_. The risks you're taking simply don't justify the potential for gain, especially now that I'm so close to perfecting the G-virus. I mean, between your other half, the undercover assignment you take so seriously, and now WU having full knowledge of your doings, one cannot control every variable at hand".

"Perhaps no one else, no", the smirk returned on Wesker's face, if only for an instant, as they headed towards the elevator door.

"The G-virus is so close to completion that I can almost taste it, Albert", Birkin added further as he began skimming through a document that had been put together by one some of Wesker's men, "Even if you turned your back on most of your research endeavours, even _you_ can appreciate the scientific progress that it represents. At will, it could usher in a whole new era of humanity. Its potential is boundless! But because of your search for power, you haven't grasped the knowledge that the only real power involves scientific progress. I worry that you won't be part of the future that my previous virus will allow due to some petty squabbles with White Umbrella".

Having already heard this same speech approximately eight times in the last two days, his colleague seemed to ignore what was said.

"It's not too late for you to have this crazy death sentence rescinded!", Birkin exclaimed next, though knowing he'd have little effect on his associate's stubborn behaviour, having failed to convince him to take a safer path many times before.

"Your naivety is astounding, doctor", the man in the shades finally uttered, "Perhaps you've spent too much time underground. White Umbrella is not known for its forgiveness".

He wasn't surprised to see that the man in the lab coat had almost dropped the file he was looking through as they neared Wesker's destination. The younger researcher must've finally gotten to the interesting part of the report that was in his possession. It seemed that the stranger who had been tormenting them earlier tonight wasn't a problem that was just going to disappear, as previously hoped and expected. The disturbance on the Umbrella-owned train first and then the facility that Wesker and Birkin had both entered as young researchers was vexing, even if it wasn't at the forefront of his thoughts.

"It just doesn't make sense", Birkin kept walking side by side as he read further, "Do you honestly believe this to be the identity of that crazy young man?".

No reply from the taller male in the shades, just more of the concentrated march to set his plans in motion.

"Impossible", Birkin continued with more resolve than he felt, "But, if somehow, it is true, then Umbrella will be finished".

"If the old conspiracy against doctor Marcus is revealed, then all those associated with the late Mr Spencer…", the fake captain finally mentioned as they reached the elevator, "…Will have no career of which to speak".

Once there, he eagerly pressed a button to call the elevator down to his level.

"So, the time has come at last", he thought out loud, making Birkin think that everything Wesker had said so far was only an excuse to justify his actions, as he believed the man in the shades would've done the same regardless of his circumstances.

"What are you going to do?", the man in the lab coat asked next, hoping he may hear some plan that Wesker had to alleviate this problem, though knowing he would not.

"I will simply say goodbye to Umbrella", Wesker informed him casually, making it obvious he had been waiting to take that action for a long time, "My biological weapon utilising the T-virus has been completed. Now, the only remaining task is to acquire combat data".

"You can't be serious, Albert!", Birkin countered angrily despite not being surprised at his colleague's point of view, "I refuse to abandon my work! Your tunnel vision may make it acceptable to limit yourself to the T-virus, but I have a much grander vision in mind".

The older man said nothing for a few seconds, waiting for the elevator door to open before speaking up as he walked inside.

"Do as you wish", he calmly informed the more emotional man, "I will stick to my initial plan. The STARS' superior training should make them excellent test data".

"Fine!", Birkin answered churlishly, "But in the meantime, something has to be done about that madman".

Not surprisingly, there were no suggestions from Wesker, not when he already received his virus and had so many intricate plans to carry out tonight.

"As I recall", the younger man went on, thinking out loud by himself, "This place is equipped with a self-destruct sequence in the basement, in case you and your ilk failed to distract the Police from finding us, I hear. Your so called 'outbreak' was bad enough, but _another_ facility run over with specimens?".

The comment failed to make his colleague smile, or even offend him, for that matter.

"I'll find it, set it off, and annihilate this entire compound to nothing more than rubble", Birkin suggested to himself as the elevator door closed, separating him from his associate of two decades.

-

William Birkin snapped his eyes open, leaving the reverie behind where he remembered the last time he had spoken to the former head researcher with the sunglasses. At this moment, he didn't know if Wesker was alive or dead, as it was possible that STARS liquidated him before he had the time to implement his plan. But with Wesker, one just couldn't be sure.

For now, though, he had to put his thoughts aside, as his present environment demanded his attention, or at least that he not be totally oblivious when he was addressed. Seated around the typically large table, and staring at the usual one-way mirror, along with a host of other individuals, were himself, his wife, and Elena Warren. Those were the only faces he was truly familiar with. There were others he recognized, at least from old pictures, such as a man who was about his age, called himself Vincent. That person tried to relax in a business attire as his body language betrayed the annoyance and impatience he felt at this time. Maybe it was because he had other responsibilities too.

Then again, doctor Birkin couldn't tell for sure, as he hadn't spoken to that man in person before. And it was naïve to assume this near-stranger felt the same emotions for the same reasons as he did, just because their facial expressions were the same.

Next to Vincent was another character whose name Birkin knew, and even someone that he had spoken to on a couple of occasions during Umbrella's mandatory social events. This other man called himself Morpheus, and his clothes appeared as if he was attending a costume party more so than an emergency, last-minute appointment in front of the senior partners. And to make things more odd, this man's seated and extremely relaxed composure was surrounded by three standing young woman, all of whom were dressed in skin-tight clothing. The similarly designed suits consisted of knee-high boots, tight trousers and arm-length shirts, and finally gloves. The only difference between the women's clothes were their colour, as one was dressed in navy blue, the other in jade green, while the third was in pink. The only black on them was a packed sidearm that rested on their hip, as they each stood at attention around Morpheus, in the same posture, almost as if trying to pass for siblings, which they clearly weren't, as one was Caucasian, the other of African origin, while the last was from an Asian background.

The oddly-dressed Morpheus must've noticed Birkin's momentary stare at his entourage, because he smiled at his colleague from Umbrella even as his surrounding women did not. He then nodded formally towards the researcher who was still in the same shirt and tie for the last three days, almost as if reading Birkin's mind.

"They are my bodyguards", Morpheus let him know, in case he was correct that the scientist was curious, "I never travel without them, as I think you'd agree, one cannot be too careful these days. This turn of events is _such_ a sad testimony to that".

He sighed in either genuine sadness or dramatic effect, Birkin didn't know which, and he didn't care at this time, as he nodded back in greeting, the better to be polite if he was already stuck in this meeting. He also decided to not verbally point out that he believed it was impossible, or at least very unsuitable, for females to serve as bodyguards or any other physically demanding profession. But to each their own, of course, so he then visually scanned the rest of the individuals around this table as Morpheus went back to speaking to one of his employees, and noticed that he didn't recognize either of the two people who were seated there alongside them.

"Let us begin", the distorted voice behind the one-way mirror interrupted everyone's quiet thoughts, "Before our most honoured member has the floor, does anyone here have any pressing thoughts, especially after recent events?".

"Um, yes, I do, actually!", William Birkin rushed to stand up, and quickly realized he was being too loud in a room that was very quiet, so he sat back down, but insisted on continuing to talk in a softer tone despite his wife wishing for him to say nothing, "I'd like to mention to everyone here that, from now on, my wife Annette here will be my liaison during meetings such as this one".

If there was any reaction from the people on the other side of the mirror, it wasn't heard. But in this particular room, everyone's face remained unreadable, except for Annette's, who only covered her eyes with her palm, and then returned her attention to the speaker.

"This matter will be discussed at a later date, doctor", the same distorted voice eventually replied.

"Yes, fine, then", an agitated William went on, "But I won't be here again before my research on the G-virus is completed. I hope you understand that".

"First order of business", the person behind the mirror moved on without acknowledging his last statement, "Since the death of our dear colleague, the Spencer estate is in need of a new vice-president to oversee quality control. After some discussion, the post has been awarded to Elena. All objections should be noted now".

Everyone stayed quiet, except for Mrs Warren, who smiled to herself in a satisfied manner. After all, everyone here knew better than to protest when the senior partners had already made up their mind. And the ones who were intelligent enough to realize that Elena wasn't the smartest person for such a high-level task also knew what a dangerous opponent she could be.

"Mrs Warren's post has already been filled, as is that of the renegade operative, doctor Wesker", the voice behind the mirror continued, "To that end, I have the pleasure of introducing you to Walter Germaine, who will take over Mrs Warren's previous duties as of today, and Alexei Ryankov, who will do the work previously covered for us by doctor Wesker, though hopefully with better results and more loyalty, I trust. Doctor Ryankov's position will be strictly in the labs, as Wesker's past objective within the RPD is suspended indefinitely".

"Of course", Alexei nodded with a smile, then turned his attention at his colleagues around the table and nodded a second time, though he wasn't surprised when he received none back.

"What happened to that ass Wesker is a lesson to us all", Vincent was the next person to speak from this side of the chamber, "I'm just sorry I wasn't there to do him in myself".

More strange looks from his associates, except from William Birkin, who continued looking bored and tired, while staring at the door, his body aiming towards the exit so he could be the first to walk out as soon as possible.

"Don't get me wrong", Vincent smiled back, glad to have everyone's attention for a change, except for those three upright bodyguards who kept annoying him with their lack of reaction, "I'm glad he's dead. But it's the way he expired that should be a lesson to us, people. Wesker was careless! Nay, reckless! That's what opened him up to an attack from outsiders. I can assure you, ladies and gents, that I'm not being as careless with my employees, and the same goes for any outsiders and guinea pigs who are in my compound. No excuses for deviant behaviour, no second chances, period. I shan't be so foolhardy so as to invite my own death and desecrate our work. And if you people were smart, you'd tighten up the control over your subordinates and mules also".

He finally stopped lecturing about his superior tactics so he could catch his breath, and appeared quite satisfied about the way he delivered his speech.

"Very good, Vincent", Mrs Warren smiled at him in a patronising fashion, "As much as we appreciate your zest, we have a lot to discuss in those areas".

"Yes, thank you for that useful suggestion, Vincent", the voice behind the mirror took over the conversation, "We know you safeguard Sheena to a high quality of service to us, and we appreciate your efforts. But Elena is also right in saying that we need to review security and rehousing policies in more detail in light of the disasters at Arklay. So if there are no other issues, we will begin".

The only sound everyone around the table heard was William Birkin sighing in frustration, but no one mentioned it. And if the senior partners behind the glass did not hear it, it was better kept that way.

"Talking to Michael was a lot easier than talking to his stupid slutbag wife", Shakahnna explained to officer Chisholm while the couple were at his apartment, "I think he was actually glad I wasn't dead, unlike her. Stupid toilet-faced horse's ass".

She winced her face in disgust as she remembered the older woman.

"Uh, hon?", the young man mentioned when she was getting off track, "You said you had something important?".

"Well, yeah, but first, you may provide me with affection", she grinned and held out her arms, procrastinating the amount of time required for him to get his big news.

Feeling both annoyance at having to wait, but pleasure at seeing her back to her old self, Chisholm approached the teenager and wrapped both arms around her lower back. They squeezed each other for a few seconds before he tried to separate physically, and was met with a protest as she tightened her own arms behind his back. That caused him to roll his eyes and stay in place for several more heartbeats, before she let him go and excitedly began pacing the floor of the living room.

"So what do we have?", he asked while relaxing on the couch there, and beginning the process of taking his work shoes off.

"Nu uh!", she protested while settling herself down on his lap and making it impossible for him to continue changing into regular clothes, "First, you didn't tell me how work wented today".

"What?", Chisholm sounded as surprised as he felt, considering how impatient she was to get him at home and tell him some news, "I mean, fine. It went fine, Shak. Nothing out of the ordinary, you know? So, your turn".

"Well, you know how I visited 'home' again, to talk to dad", she wrapped one arm around the back of his neck as she settled more comfortably, "He was all criey and shameful, I think, went on about how Wesker contacted him a while ago, went on about the bribes he's getting from Umbrella, so he let me get my way on most things. It's not how I wanted to get my way, but it means we're sorted for funding".

"So you got a ton of money from him?", he asked, curious.

"To start with, yeah, I be's getting a bigger allowance", she smirked, proud of herself, "But that's not the main point. I was so mad I told him that when the time came, I wouldn't protect him".

"Wow", Chisholm went on, his eyes still locked with hers, "Did you meant it?".

"Yeah, I think so, at least then", she told him, "But since then, he did do what I wanted in other ways, like gave me more tools to let me do what I want".

She stopped, intentionally waiting for him to ask what her wishes were. Unfortunately, he didn't, as he kept wanting her to continue talking.

"It seems that Umbrella truly does have as big an influence on this town as Weskie told me", she finally continued, ignoring the scowl that appeared on his face at the mention of the other man's name, especially after the 'interesting' evening where she informed Chisholm that she was still visiting the RPD captain, "Umbrella actually has to approve many of the applicants who apply for and then graduate from the Police academy. I bet you didn't know that, did you, honey?".

"No, that's a surprise", he admitted, "I can't believe I'm hearing that".

"Sooooo", she grinned while looking away from him for the first time, and made him realize how big her news was.

Without talking further, she was about to present him something that she had withdrawn from her pocket, and was now kept tightly wrapped in her palm. But she was interrupted when noise from the other side of the apartment indicated that someone used a key to open the front door. The visitor closed the door next and walked into the living room, not surprisingly being seen as Officer Donnelly, as he was the only person besides Shakahnna who had a key to Chisholm's home.

If it had been anyone else, the redhead would've gotten off the young man's lap to greet him. Instead, she intentionally stayed seated there since she could tell it was annoying their visitor.

"Eric!", she grinned even wider now, "You're just in time for my good news! Here. You can even see it before Chino".

With that, she threw the object she was holding towards Donnelly, who easily caught it and looked down at his hand in his own turn. Without understanding what he held, the older cop showed the item to Chisholm, pointing out that he had an RPD badge there. The confused look on Donnelly was exchanged with one of disbelief, and then adamant denial on Chisholm's part as the latter understood what Shakahnna was so happy about.

"No. No!", the younger cop began standing up, prompting the teenager to get off his lap as he did, "You can't be serious about this, Shak. You don't even have the _training_ for it! You should at least go the academy for six months. It's great if Michael let you in at the drop of a hat and you don't have to wait ages like other people. After six months, maybe…".

"What? WHAT?!", Donnelly finally understood in his own turn as the young woman's badge slipped out of his hand and landed on the carpet, "Dude, what are you on? She can't be a cop! What is this, a joke?".

"I don't need to be trained, guys", Shakahnna enjoyed the heated discussion as she replied, "Well, that's not true. I probably do. But the whole unkillable thing makes it way easier for me, right? And while I'm here, I might as well…".

"You really think you're gonna walk into the RPD tomorrow and everyone's gonna be OK with you being there?", Donnelly interrupted, "That's nuts, dude. You don't have the qualifications. You know? That piece of paper that's signed by a judge who says you completed the academy? Besides, with the STARS as they are, that place is hostile enough as it is. It doesn't need you making people even more tense".

"You mean I'm missing this?", Shakahnna reached into her back pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper.

Unfolding it in the older cop's direction, she laughed to herself as Donnelly read that it was a certificate confirming her graduation from the Raccoon Police Academy last month.

From Donnelly's point of view, it seemed as if he was about to experience a genuine heart attack as he first gasped in shock, and then began asking how that was possible via several different swear words.

"It made sense, Chino, honey", Shakahnna explained further as her boyfriend checked the apparent authenticity of the certificate in his own turn, "I told Michael. Once people ask where I've been, where else am I gonna tell them I was?".

"Uh, do you have a uniform?", Chino asked, much calmer than his partner.

"Uh, no!", Donnelly cut in with more emotion in his voice, "You're talking about it like she's coming to work with us tomorrow!".

"Actually, I don't, no", Shakahnna answered with a grin as she answered Chisholm's question and ignored Donnelly's statement, "I figured I'd just come in with regular clothes and see what I can do to find a uniform then".

"Works with me", the younger cop gave a small smile as he picked the badge off the floor and handed it back to her, "So, you guys feel like getting dinner or what?".

"Huh?!", Donnelly replied indignantly as Shakahnna put the paperwork away and happily nodded several times, "This conversation isn't over, people!".

"I _do_ have an issue for tomorrow morning's ride to work, though", the redhead went on as Chisholm moved to change into more comfortable clothes.

"Yeah, what's that?", the rookie asked as he walked towards his clothes cabinet.

"Now that we're all cops?", she grinned wider as she said those words, hearing Donnelly moan louder, "It's only fair that I start to ride in the front seat sometimes, and you guys take turns sitting the back".

"I'm dying here", the older man complained.

"But the cop in the front passenger seat gets to play with the siren!", she added to his distress further.


	51. Chapter 41 Tense Alliance

"Something be's on your mind, Weskie?", Shakahnna asked as she sat next to the former RPD agent on the long couch.

The man with the sunglasses still had his Police uniform on, complete with the Kevlar vest that protected his torso, most likely due to being so familiar with the body armour that he refused to remove it even when not facing dangers from firearms. Maybe it was the fact that he was no longer reporting to work at RPD headquarters that made him appear as unhappy as he was now, since the last several days drove the point into his mind that he would no longer be welcome at the job where he felt so comfortable before. But then again, maybe it was something else that bothered him, as his body language was even more tense than usual, while the teenager could see that his teeth were clenched together behind his closed mouth.

"Must he be here?", Wesker finally answered as he lazily pointed away from them both, and towards the one-person couch that was a few feet away.

Following his index finger, the teenager easily spotted officer Chisholm as the younger man was seated there. Now that she came to think about it, having Chino while he held a handgun to Wesker's chest during the entire time the couple was visiting him probably contributed to Wesker's unease. Chisholm noticed the look on her face, but still refused to put away the weapon that he held via his right hand, while his right elbow rested on his leg.

"Uh, Chino, honey, you really can put that away, you know", Shakahnna suggested, noticing the irony that both men were tense while she was comfortable.

"No!", an annoyed rookie cop insisted as the weapon remained fixed on the former captain.

"Mr Chisholm, should I…", Wesker began pointing out that he could rush to where the young man sat and literally break the Glock in half, along with Chino's spine, if he wished it, all before the rookie could pull the trigger.

Shakahnna's grip of his forearm stopped the threat before the man in the shades could utter it, as she was sure those were the words that were going to come out of his mouth. So playing the rare role of negotiator and diplomat, the redhead lightly slammed one of her feet on the living room floor.

"Right! Enough!", she declared as she had both their attentions.

She breathed in and out once while the two men were waiting for her to finish.

"You, put the gun away", she pointed to Chisholm first, then aiming in the general direction of the attached kitchen, "Kitchen, food, help yourself to anything. I'm sure Weskie will do as he's told".

"I'm not…", Chisholm began protesting quickly.

"False", she interrupted, "Long shift at work, you're hungry, and as such, you're being cranky. Besides, if anything happens, you'll be able to hear us from there, no?".

"Well, I guess, but I'll still be further away than now!", Chisholm's protest caused more agitation in the older man.

"Ten yards away from me instead of five?", the redhead rightly pointed out, "I'll be safe in both instance, sweetie. Now, come on, give me a kiss".

The young man sighed as he stood up from his couch and holstered the weapon. Thankfully, he next walked towards her and kissed Shakahnna on the lips.

"Now proceed", she pointed towards the small kitchen again.

Chisholm did so, leaving her and Wesker in relative privacy. And it pleased Shakahnna to hear the man in the shades exhale in relief as the latter began using a lower tone, apparently to make it so she was the only one who heard their conversation.

"You have to admit, he be's cute", she smiled at him.

"No, he is not", Wesker whispered back, "But regardless. What is it you wish to know, miss Warren?".

"Only why you seems upset", she curiously asked as she could hear the rookie cop opening Wesker's refrigerator in the distance.

"How many of the differing reasons can I give you?", he answered still in a lower tone, "I was planning to patrol the forest at this time, but your visit forced me to procrastinate that. Why is it we cannot simply drag him along if he insists on shadowing you?".

"Oh, Weskie, you know why", she told him with a sigh, causing the older man to concede that he agreed on that point, considering how vicious a single renegade Cerberus could be if found alive.

"But we won't be here long, Weskie, and surely you can go out once we leave, right?", Shakahnna followed through.

"Yes, of course", he acknowledged next as Chisholm was busy making a sandwich.

"Besides, you have to pretend at least to be happy to see me", the redhead added next, finally causing a grin to appear on the side of his face.

"Of course I am", he freely admitted, his body slightly less tense than before.

"So, what else does there be bothering you?", she continued prying, guessing rightly that the reason he gave wasn't the biggest one.

"I would think it was an obvious explanation", Wesker went on as he removed his sunglasses and wiped them clean before returning them to his face, "I continue taking my medication, and have had no loss of memory since. I can safely presume my other half is successfully suppressed. Too bad that doesn't undo the crimes he committed under my watch. Joseph's gone, and… What else is there to feel good about?".

"Oh, Weskie", she sadly leaned against his upper arm, "You're here. That's a start. I'm so glad that happened".

She separated from him before continuing.

"Plus there's the whole superpowers thing", the redhead added with a smile, "That's always nice".

"Exactly my next point, miss Warren", Wesker followed her point, "I obviously need to do _something_ to regain what I lost. Whether that be confidence, an enjoyment of life, or whatever one calls it".

"You mean a purpose", she suggested.

"Correct", Wesker acknowledged, "It seems that the problem which created this complication in my life may also provide a possible solution for it, and I do not talk about my hobby of keeping Raccoon Forest safe".

"What do you mean then?", the young woman inquired, glad that he was talking about his feelings, at least for a little while.

"I have not figured out my plan of action as of yet", he admitted while subconsciously brushing his hands through his blonde hair, "Suffice it to say that you will be notified of my decision as soon as it is made, miss Warren".

"OK, I can be living with that", she gave a broad smile which soon disappeared, "I'm aware that things have not be so easy. I _know_ how difficult this must be for you. Everything's totally fucked up. But I also know you will not be quitting this".

"Quitting would never be an option, no", he confirmed.

"In that respect, anything found on Elena's laptop?", the teenager asked next, hoping to hear that her theft from the Warren mansion proved to be useful.

"Nothing as yet", Wesker explained, "I've been on it when not patrolling or testing this new figure. The Warrens did a fairly good job of encrypting their data. But I expect to break that code sooner rather than later".

"There's gotta be more than just porn on there though even if she does be a dirty rotten bitch", the teenager smiled to herself, and was disappointed to see that the cheerful grin didn't spread to her companion.

The serious look on his face indicated he had more on his mind.

"Any news from home base?", he asked at last, making eye contact with her for an instant before looking away.

"No, I don't be going back to work till Monday", Shakahnna let him know, intentionally leaving out the part about herself being accepted to the Police Academy at the same time that he was fired from his position, "But things still aren't back to normal, Weskie. People are really tense, the normal rank and file are really mad at the STARS, and STARS are always uber-pissed, which is understandable, because Umbrella's a shit".

"Yes", he blankly agreed, looking towards Chisholm's direction, though Shakahnna suspected he wasn't staring at the young man, "Yes, it is. How are the STARS survivors...?".

He stopped talking again.

"How are they handling surviving Umbrella and then everyone's negative attention?", she offered.

Wesker merely nodded his head.

"They probably wish you were there to act as their leader in this, difficult, time", the young woman chose her words carefully, "Then again, they probably also wish that _fuck_ didn't exist in your body".

She stopped talking, thinking there was no point in mentioning the obvious.

"There _is_ something you can do for me, miss Warren", Wesker uttered next, even as Chisholm pretended to not be trying to eavesdrop while he ate his sandwich, as he intentionally only chewed his food when the redhead was talking.

"Anything, Weskie", she patted him on the shoulder, glad to hear there was something she could do to make him feel better after all.

"I would appreciate being brought a television screen", the former captain asked, "I already have a satellite connection here along with my cellphone, along with a generator, as you know. It would be advantageous to have access to the news in case the worst happens in Raccoon City".

"What exactly are you expecting to _happen_ that you won't be able to read in the newspapers I bring, Weskie?", she asked in her own turn.

"Something that will destroy the long-term media, along with the city's infrastructure right before my eyes, of course", he explained, "Newspapers are fine for events that occurred yesterday, but I need to know if there is an emergency as it takes place".

"You think Umbrella to be behind more outbreaks?", the teenager inquired, though she already knew his answer.

The more he talked, the better he should feel. Or so she told herself.

"I would say it's a safe bet", he predicted, "I would prefer to see it happen live for the opportunity to become involved, as opposed to wondering what happened the day after".

"Sure thing, Weskie", she lightly punched him on the upper arm, "I'll bring one in tomorrow if it'll make you feel better. Even if we _both_ know you only want it so you can watch cartoons".

The man in the sunglasses slowly turned his face towards her, an air of uncomfortable silence following as neither individual said anything for several seconds. It lasted so long, in fact, that Chisholm forwent any semblance of tact and marched back into the living room, leaving his half-eaten sandwich in the kitchen. So Shakahnna held her breath without even realizing it.

Had she made one joke too many at an inappropriate time? Did Wesker just go from being depressed to being irate now?

Except that a smile began creeping onto the former captain's face, which caused her to beam a large grin back to him, even while the rookie stood a few feet away from them both, watching the silent exchange for a few more moments.

"Just the news, miss Warren", the oldest person there commented at last, "As much as I appreciate the reminder of agent Redfield by pressuring me to watch GI Joe or He-man. I just require information, and your effort will be most appreciated".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Do I even _be's_ getting a workstation?", Shakahnna asked out loud as she was looking around the semi-chaotic floor that was a typical morning in the RPD.

On one hand, she was happy that her first shift happened for the 8AM-4PM shift, and allowed her to work side-by-side with officer Chisholm. On the other hand, though, the young woman felt more nervous than she expected at the prospect of starting her first day on the job. What's more, the crash course she had taken recently, in addition to all the terms she was used to from her days as an administrator, just hadn't prepared her for the influx of new terminology she had come across in the first two hours alone. So as a result, the teenager felt that she was about to be cross-eyed at the overabundance of information she was supposed to know, but simply didn't at this time.

Then again, she thought to herself alone as Chisholm was busy clearing one of the many desks that were close to his own station, this was why Donnelly had insisted that she couldn't start as a rookie officer without her first six months of training at the academy.

Shakahnna would never admit to the older man that he was right about that point, of course. But the fact remained that he had warned her about the dangers of figuratively jumping into the deep end of the pool, at least when he wasn't angrily ranting that she wasn't allowed to accompany them during her first day on duty, or tiredly sighing that some god in heaven was conspiring to annoy him.

Speaking of Donnelly, Shakahnna looked around while placing herself on the chair that faced the currently-empty desk, realizing that she hadn't seen the annoyed officer for most of this morning. That was unusual by itself, as Donnelly and Chisholm always travelled together before. So what was the change now, where the younger of the partners was still around her, but Donnelly wasn't?

A voice in the back of her mind told her to not wonder where he was, and just be grateful for the respite of being away from him for a while.

"Are you _sure_ you're up to this?", the rookie cop interrupted her thoughts as he was addressing her while still remaining on his feet.

"Not really", she gave a nervous smile as she stood up, appearing unhappy to be there, which was a rare sight by itself, "But let's do it anyway".

"Just remember, you don't have to stay here if you don't want to", Chisholm smiled back as he gently gripped her upper arm, mostly succeeding in his efforts to not appear as if he had other things on his mind this morning.

"I know, I know, and that helps", Shakahnna nodded several times, "But no quitting if it can be helped, sweetie. And I remember Weskie once saying that this job could swallow you whole if you didn't be careful, so I don't feel like being swallowed up, so it can just fuck off".

A more relaxed smile returned on the rookie officer's face as he quickly embraced her and then let go, the better to not make a habit out of being affectionate while in this environment.

"I'm afraid you started at a bad time, though, considering all the brouhaha here with the STARS and all", Chisholm went on to explain, "Eric's there now, trying to play peacemaker between the STARS and everyone else".

"The STARS _really_ didn't do anything wrong, Chino", she eagerly replied in defence of the individuals who had faced the same horrors as her, before the true extent of what Chisholm had said sank into her mind, which prompted her to be more calm, "Wait a sec. Is Donnelly the voice of reason now? Are things that bad?".

"I know that, and so does your friend Wesker. But try telling that to everyone else here. And as far as your questions, yes and yes", the young man confirmed.

"Do you think things are gonna start going to shit?", the young woman asked next as she lowered her voice and brought her face closer to his.

"I don't know, to be honest", the rookie had to admit, "I guess you'll find out first and foremost, along with the rest of us, now".

"We need to start taking precautions, then", she distanced her head from Chisholm's, but kept her voice low still.

"Like what? What's on your mind?".

"Like I'm thinking that particular friend's right to be doing what he does", she thought out loud, "Hideouts, storage of food and guns, perhaps? All that doesn't sound so crazy now, all of a sudden".

"Woa! What the… Hang on!", a new voice interrupted the hushed conversation.

Both individuals turned around to spot officer Yuen who had approached them from behind Chisholm, the surprise on the man's face obvious as he saw Shakahnna's uniform.

"Is this a serious thing or you just role-playing?" Yuen pointed towards the redhead with his free hand as he kept a stack of films in his other fingers.

"No, serious all the way", the young woman did her best to give him a beaming smile, "First day and all".

"But, I mean, _how_?", the oldest officer there followed through, "I was mentioning to some of the guys here that we hadn't seen you in ages. When did _this_ happen?".

"During the last several weeks, been going to full-time classes at the academy", Shakahnna lied and thought she did a good job of it, "I was taking night classes before then. Then chief Irons told me about a fast-track course he found, so I was accepted to it".

"But we thought you were _missing_!", the more experienced cop went on, "We were searching the mayor's mansion and all".

"Oh, well, you see…", the redhead rushed to find a viable excuse that didn't sound too artificial, "The classes were out of state, and I hadn't been in touch with Chino here for a while. As far as I know, someone I'm taking classes with decided to play a prank, and called in here and said I was dead or kidnapped or something. And you know how Wesker is. He always takes things too seriously".

It didn't occur to her that she accidentally referred to the former RPD captain in the present tense.

"Well, damn, what a shock", Yuen laughed off next, but soon became serious as he remembered grave news, "So have you heard about Joseph and captain Wesker? I know you were close to them both".

"I wasn't close to Joseph", another lie followed to keep the conversation simple as she looked at the ground, "But yeah, I heard what happened. I _still_ can't believe they're both gone".

She lifted her eyes back up to the two men there, and noticed office Whey as the latter was making his way past the area. She tensed up at the sight of the third man, even as Whey appeared uncomfortable at seeing her, especially now that she was dressed as him. Fortunately, he quickly moved on, leaving her sight before either Chisholm or Yuen noticed the stressful glances from each.

"I'm really sorry", she finally uttered towards her visitor as she noticed Donnelly proceeding towards their location.

"Hey, no problem", Yuen brushed off in his usually friendly fashion, not realizing her expression of sorrow was in regards to his dead friends, "Misunderstandings happen. Just glad you're OK, Shak".

"So, dude, we ready to go?", Donnelly tapped his partner's shoulder as Yuen nodded to the two other men and left to pursue the day's responsibilities, "And Irons says your girlfriend can join us if she so wants".

"Works for me!", she clapped her hands together once as sadness was quickly replaced with excitement, the thought of being out of this building for the day being tempting indeed.

"Things are calm enough for you to not be holding people away from each other?", Chino asked his older partner as he casually picked up the pistol holster that was rested around the back of his chair.

"In the sense that the last of the STARS left the building, and everyone's calmer now, yeah, they are", Donnelly sighed to himself while rubbing his eyes with one hand, "Dude, you won't _believe_ the bad blood in there. Let's enjoy the peace and quiet while we can and get some work done, huh?".

Chisholm nodded his head in agreement as Donnelly led the couple outside, aware of the irony that going out on patrol was suddenly the easy part of his day.


	52. Chapter 42 Dream a little dream of me

_AN: Updating! Had not forgotten but you know Simon and Mark you really have them to thank for this since they are like hey jaz you've got 100 pages there, why the fuck aren't you updating. To which the correct responce is... I'm an idiot :-D Hope you guys are still enjoying and hopefully things will heat up as RE3 is just around the corner. Much love to you guys and don't be shy to leave me some in return 3. Happy :) _

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Shakahnna did not know why she had come back to Lynn Valley, as she knew it was clearly the structure owned by Umbrella as a safehouse for VIP's. Regardless, though, here she was, walking up to the front door, and wishing there were some steps between the asphalt underneath her feet and the doorway which she knew led to the scene of several executions. At least then, there could be several more seconds for her before she walked through the space beyond the lone entryway.

Already the redhead had noticed that the car with the two dead guards in it was removed, all traces of its existence gone. So twisting the doorknob, the nervous gamine held her breath and entered the house, reaching the living room in little time.

Unlike outside, though, the interior of this safehouse wasn't cleared at all. In fact, the teenager gasped in surprise as she saw Albert Wesker there, the older man dressed in a black executive suit, missing only a tie, but otherwise appearing as if he belonged in a board room. He wasn't alone, either, as the man in the sunglasses barely acknowledged her presence since he was busy dealing with six more uniformed guards.

Desert Eagle in hand, he eagerly spun from one human target to another, being brutally efficient with the handful of moments spent as he moved clockwise. Shooting the first guard, Wesker proceeded to the man who was closest to that dead adversary, the better to preserve his time, and quickly repeated the process, firing his handgun and killing his way through those six Umbrella employees.

As he did, Shakahnna's eyes bulged and her stomach knotted in horror as she witnessed that each dead man who was being dispatched by the former RPD captain had his skin melting off the corpse, in a more gruesome recollection of the cleaners who had visited her jailcell. Each layer slowly sizzled, before boiling and twisting downwards to the ground. Disgusted, and still unable to get the older man to stop his massacre, the teenager partly turned away from the scene and covered her eyes. She wanted to stop looking at the dead Umbrella guards, especially after their shiny red muscles were now melting off, stripping backwards a ping as they torn away, leaving a dirty skeleton which were still screaming in pain even after they had landed dead on the floor.

Why were they still yelling out long after Wesker had shot them in the head? Morbidly curious, the young woman snuck a peek past her hand as she had previously kept it in front of her eyes. She spotted the six skeletal remains as their palms were pressed against the floor, the heads still flopping back and forth on the carpet as death didn't stop the pain they were experiencing.

But there was a variable even worse than the impossibly horrific scene she was witnessing now, and that was the demeanour of the man in the sunglasses. Standing several yards away from her, and coolly unaffected by the screams of the bodies he had shot, Albert Wesker comfortably laid against the wall as the firearm was already holstered. His arms crossed in front of his chest, the shades lowered towards his nose by a fraction of an inch, and a self-congratulatory grin on his face. There was something in his body language that temporarily distracted Shakahnna from the living corpses there, and looking into the older man's relaxed face, she initially didn't know what it was.

Until it suddenly came crashing down on her. Wesker's body was too relaxed and comfortable, with his face carrying an appearance of contentment, as if nothing in the world was wrong for him. It was a far cry from the former RPD captain who was always frowning about the evils of the world and his personal inability to correct them. That STARS leader had broken into the Umbrella compound with several followers in a search for her, and whose body language was tense constantly because of the stress he constantly experienced.

Contrary to that captain Wesker, this man in the black suit was happy. It was then that Shakahnna understood what was causing the anxious pain in the pit of her stomach, as the last time she had seen him that content was when she was being subjected to his experiments in that hellish Umbrella compound.

Seeing that she finally noticed his presence, Wesker's ulterior personality moved with the swiftness that she had seen his body to be capable of before. In a flash of colour, he was in front of her before she could move, and was holding her chin with one hand and the back of her skull with the other. He quickly dragged her towards a mirror on another wall of the room, one that Shakahnna hadn't seen before, and firmly held her face in front of it, daring her to look at her own reflection.

No form of struggling got the redhead out of his grip, as pulling at his hands or stomping on his feet didn't work. The restrained position eventually forced her to see the image in the mirror, even while she was gasping in terror and struggling to free herself from the antagonist whose grasp just wouldn't loosen.

Another strange sighting, which was that her reflection wasn't being forced to stand there at all, but was a normal image of herself. Except that her face in the glass slowly began decaying, with the skin turning grey, the hair on her head falling out, and wounds with maggots inside them appearing over her features.

Shakahnna heard herself screaming as the zombie with her face reached towards herself through the mirror. And the next feeling she experienced was that of waking up in Chisholm's bedroom as she was lying in bed and next to the young man. She struggled to sit up, reflexively pushing the blanket off her due to remembering Wesker's figure behind herself in the dream, and saw that Chisholm was peacefully asleep at an arm's reach away.

It took the young woman several moments to catch her breath, and it was only after she could hear her heart rate calming back down to a normal beat that she decided to lie back down. Covering her shoulders with the blanket, she snuggled to Chisholm's back and held him close to her, still unable to shake the multitude of nightmares she had seen in the dream.

"Chris, stop, _please_!", officer Valentine's voice was heard echoing through the second-floor hallways of the RPD, "It was an accident! He didn't mean it!".

It had been less than an hour into the new shift at the RPD, which was much too early for the scene that most officers inside the station were witnessing. Not that there was a good time to see agent Redfield criticising, yelling at or threatening any employee who said or did anything wrong. But most staff members already knew that they were witnessing yet another event, as was the norm since STARS had returned from their blunder in the city's forest, and just sighed to themselves in annoyance.

While that occurred, officer David Elran staggered out of the STARS office, not bothering to pick up the mug of coffee that was on the floor, as he was busy covering a swollen left eye. He hurried past Shakahnna Warren as the redhead had been slowly and carefully making her way towards that same office once she heard the commotion, and the teenager gasped at seeing her colleague's state, as it was clear Elran had been punched.

She looked at the lightly wounded man, then at the enraged STARS marksman who was marching after him with the intention of dishing out more punishment. Finally, the young woman noticed an emphatic Jill Valentine who was trying to pull the aggressor back into their office, the female member of STARS threw a glance behind herself, and soon got agent Burton's cooperation as the largest man there joined her efforts.

"He didn't mean to spill the coffee on your file, sweetie! Come on!", Valentine had one of Redfield's upper arms gripped before Burton grabbed the other one and coaxed the angry officer back into the STARS office.

"How's your social life now, you ugly fuck?!", Redfield exclaimed back at the person he had assaulted even while he complied with his associates' request, "At least now all those women won't be bugging you for dates any more!".

Seeing the three isolated agents disappear back within their secluded room, Shakahnna had stopped walking towards them, unsure how to progress further even if one of them had just assaulted one of the officers she was on good terms with. Her reluctance to interact with any of the surviving STARS members hadn't decreased in the last several weeks, not when she knew that they were the one group of individuals who knew as much about Umbrella as she did, though not as much about Wesker. How could she balance a conversation under those circumstances? With deception, she told herself, that was how, and lots of lies. She did not fancy it.

The redhead was about to turn around and return to filing some of the many pieces of paper that pertained to the last few days of work in the still-strange Police department. After all, things would get better when Chisholm and Donnelly returned from their hearing in court. However, she ceased her departure and instead found herself frozen in place as Redfield's continued screams were heard from the open doorway. Clearly, any agitation on the short run was opening a much deeper rage in the marksman.

"Who the fuck does he think he _is_, coming in here like that?!", Redfield kept ranting as neither Valentine nor Burton were responding, "He's lucky that's _all_ I did to him, that little pipsqueak!".

A break in his shrieks, presumably because Valentine was saying something which Shakahnna couldn't hear.

"Fuck objectives, Jill! And fuck his _eye_!", Redfield screamed back as a dull thud indicated he had punched a desk or a cabinet, "You think I'm gonna have _any_ one of these little _nobodies_ be in our face? I'm not playing any bullshit games with them here. The next time _any_ one of them pulls this shit, they're gonna receive what that fuck Wesker _should've_ gotten from me, OK?".

Shakahnna's body tensed at the mention of the former captain's name, the teenager held her breath, and then intentionally exhaled after she reminded herself that none of the STARS member knew that Wesker was alive. No reason to fear that they would be hunting him down.

"Whatever, man, _whatever_!", Redfield physically struck another inanimate object in that chamber, this time in response to something Burton said, "At least there's _some_ justice in the world, huh? That fuck Wesker is burning in hell like he belongs. Now all we have to do is make sure that a few thousands of _other_ Umbrella shitheads join him!".

The last statement made regarding Wesker's character was enough to prompt Shakahnna to forget her plans to return to work, and the young woman marched into the STARS room instead. There was something about Redfield that simply created friction within her mind, and not the playful kind like she behaved with officer Donnelly. Chris Redfield was the kind of man she just disliked since the first day she saw his angry demeanour while in this environment, even if his resentment was justifiable. And the marksman's latest comment about the former captain was the figurative straw that broke the camel's back.

Not appreciating the irony of confronting the few individuals in this building who despised Umbrella as much as she did, she slammed the office door behind herself, getting the attention of all three officers there.

"You listen to me!", she glared at the older man there, not making eye contact with either Valentine or Burton for now, "Wesker was a very unwell man. You stand here and totally desecrate his memory. Yet he'd have done _anything_ to save all of you. He just didn't know what he was doing. None of you have _any_ idea how sick he was".

The other two agents stayed quiet, while Redfield's facial expression started with disbelief, as if Shakahnna told him that little curly-tailed and neon-green elephants were flying past the window. Then, the marksman's eyes narrowed and his mouth grimaced as the annoyance he felt towards anyone who didn't believe him clarified in his mind.

"What the hell would _you_ know? Who the fuck _are_ you, to come in here and shoot your mouth off?", he countered, fighting the urge to walk up to where she stood and physically toss her out of the office.

He quickly calmed down, first feeling Valentine's hand on his elbow, and next noticing how young the red-headed cop in front of him appeared.

"Look", he gently withdrew his arm from Valentine's grasp and slowly proceeded towards the rookie, "I'm guessing you're a new here, so you don't know your head from your ass just now, which is why I'm not gonna toss you out of here like I want. But I suggest you try living in the real world for a change, OK? Wesker betrayed us _all_. And many members of our teams died because of him".

"No! Wesker was _not_ responsible for the zombies", the redhead countered, intentionally not daring him to try to throw her out due to not wishing to create more hassle for Chisholm and Donnelly later, "Not the person you are speaking about".

Noticing that she wasn't going to convince anyone here, and surprised that she had decided to try in the first place, she waved the air in front of her face, as if already counting the STARS members out of the discussion.

"No wonder nobody believes you if you're running around, acting like a thug", she added, in a softer tone.

"That's enough from you", it was Burton who replied this time, coming closer to the teenager from a different side, "You need to leave, and I mean now".

Shakahnna rolled her eyes with a sigh and reached back for the doorknob, happy to follow their demand, rather than wasting more time here.

"Look, we're not against you here", Valentine spoke up before the redhead completely walked out of the room, "Barry and Chris are just being put through the grinder in this department".

Neither man added anything more, though the stern and prepared way they both quietly stared at her was enough to confirm the brunette's statement, as if they were ready for a physical confrontation with anyone and at any time. Did this mean that these three officers had perhaps been assaulted on the job, the same way that she had been after being bailed out of jail?

"I can't blame you for believing Wesker's lies", Valentine continued, still speaking in a noticeably friendly voice, "He lied to us in the same tone, told us about how he was on our side. To be honest, _I_ believed him too. But later on, his actions gave his intentions away. So you should forget about those lies and believe us. We knew him better than anyone else in here does".

For an instant, the teenager considered telling them the whole truth, and then bit her tongue due to the danger that would put Wesker in. So she quickly shook her head several times as she opened the door.

"You just _think_ you do", she whispered as she was walking out, unsure if she was heard. She immediately regretted having said something.

She didn't notice agent Valentine patting Redfield on the shoulder before the older woman proceeded to follow her out of the room's only exit. It was after Shakahnna walked several yards into the hallway outside the STARS office that the Alpha team machinist caught up with her, walking close enough to the teenager that they could talk without being overheard.

"The underground Umbrella lab. That was _you_ in one of those blue tubes, wasn't it?", Valentine kept her eyes fixed on Shakahnna's face to notice her reaction and gage what to do from there.

The teenager suddenly stopped walking and visibly tensed up as her head whipped around to look at the taller woman, not having expected that to come from Valentine's mouth. It didn't take her long to regain her composure, but the sudden halt was enough to convince the STARS agent that her suspicions were right.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I mean…", she began denying and stopped.

"Save it", the older woman advised in as sympathetic a tone as those words could be delivered, "See, I remember, vaguely, seeing you in one of those god-awful tubes, when I was being chased by this 9-foot tall _thing_ that Wesker let loose. Barry was there too, except that I suspect he was too busy looking for a way to keep both himself and me alive. By the time Chris and Becca were there, he was too thankful to have me alive, and she was too thankful to have _herself_ alive, to look around. But it doesn't mean _I_ don't remember".

"There's lots of people who look like me!", Shakahnna answered with a believable lie.

"Which is why you weren't baffled by what I asked just now", Valentine proved to be obstinate, "You're the same height, have the same length hair, and have the same nose".

She lightly passed her finger over the bridge of Shakahnna's nose as she finished talking.

"So, anything you want to tell me about Wesker or Umbrella that we don't know?", the older woman continued when the teenager stayed silent, neither keeping eye contact, nor breaking it, making the redhead feel better, "I figure we need all the help we can get, considering Umbrella seems to be in charge everywhere. And here I come across someone who used to be on the inside, and she's insistent that one of their biggest operatives shouldn't be spoken badly of, and I wonder why".

Again, the temptation to tell this officer everything she knew had to be pushed back, as she didn't dare reveal her friend's secret.

"Not here", Shakahnna finally hushed back, and then looked on either side of the hallway to make sure no one else was within hearing range. "No point in be's trying to go through the media. Is a game you'll loose and end up in tragic 'accidents'", unable to keep the disdain from her voice, she continued. "Get away from here or arm up and prepare in private, cause you know it's coming. You can either be screaming about righteousness, honour, justice, or you can win. You've seen… this place just isn't going to be safe.

But you also need to understand. Wesker was my friend and I miss him".

The teenager's sad expression allowed her to speak the truth till the very end, as she truly did miss not seeing Wesker every day, and having to sneak to his cabin on an irregular basis.

"So you _know_ what all this stuff is", Valentine eagerly claimed, "You know what's been going on with us, what we're up against. You shouldn't be wasting your time with the rank and file here. Why aren't you spending your time _with_ us?".

"Look, considering you've been through this, how can you still not understand who, how I mean not who, _how_ dangerous it all is?", Shakahnna countered.

"Oh, I think we _do_!", the older woman shot back, her face and tone of voice hardening for an instant before it returned to her usually friendly one.

"Jill, my _family's_ here", the redhead explained, "Yours doesn't be, are they? And don't get me wrong, that's a good thing. But I can't afford to be screaming into the silence. And I certainly can't risk, I can't be coming home and finding everyone dead. I just, it's not I can't. Believe it or not, can do more with the whole influence thing when am here, and if I get cut out of the loop now, then I'll lose any chance of getting information".

"We all have people who can be hit by Umbrella!", Valentine asserted, "Whether they're in this city or elsewhere in the country. You don't think Umbrella can hit our loved ones elsewhere in this country, or this world? What option is there? Risk everything and be called crazy to your face and behind your back, or cop out? You're not backing us up when you _can_".

"You're still not getting this", Shakahnna repeated, "Raccoon City is where it's gonna happen".

"What is?", the older officer intentionally didn't mention agent Aitken's insistence that the city was doomed and should be evacuated by his colleagues.

"I don't know yet", the teenager had to admit, "But whatever it is, it will be here".

She only received a sigh and a rub of the eyes from the STARS officer.

"In that case, I won't tell Chris and Barry about you, OK?", Valentine finally offered, "I'm just disappointed here. You should know that".

"I expect you will be", Shakahnna admitted with a sad smile, "But wow. You know, until now, I thought everyone who was still alive was on the take".

The younger cop smiled wider and extended her arms in front of her, indicating she wanted to embrace Valentine, to which the STARS agents frowned in suspicion. But it only took the Alpha team member an instant before she changed her distrust and accepted that the teenager only wished to make a peace offering.

Valentine ignored how strange it felt to cuddle someone she just met and slightly bent forward while slowly wrapping her arms around Shakahnna's upper back. To her surprise, the teenager's response wasn't an affectionate embrace as the younger cop barely touched the sides of the older woman's torso.

"More than half the cops are Umbrella's. Don't know which ones", the redhead whispered into her colleague's ear, all semblance of light-heartedness gone, making Valentine realize that she wasn't looking for a hug at all, but to pass on a warning, "Tell that to your friends, for their sake. The good ones are not in the majority in this place".

Having finished talking, Shakahnna separated herself from Valentine, letting the taller woman stand back up to her full height, before the STARS agent slowly nodded once.

"You should come by and have lunch with us one day!", the fake smile returned on the teenager's face as she continued, and knew that Valentine got the message to meet up in the future for the sharing of information, "Though I gotta warn you, that my boyfriend's pet is a bit of a hothead".

"Count on it", the STARS officer acknowledged as they locked eyes, "A day out of the office will do me good. I prefer Chinese or Italian".

The older woman turned and headed back to her office. The sooner agents Redfield and Burton knew of this new information, the better.

Shakahnna felt shaky after parting ways with agent Valentine, not happy that she was found to be in possession of some of Umbrella's secrets, even if it was done by someone who was dedicated to fighting the corporation. Granted that the STARS member was one of the very few people around who could have recognized her, as being someone who was inside the labs and still alive, but it didn't change the fact that there was now someone else who knew about her.

For the first time, she understood subjectively, and not just objectively, why Wesker had insisted on Chino not being told of his clandestine affairs.

Regardless, it was fair to assume that Valentine wouldn't betray her, not when the older woman had risked so much in the last few weeks. So for now, the teenager returned to her desk, knowing that much paperwork was waiting for her, and counting the hours till Chisholm and Donnelly came back.

She hadn't even reached her work area, though, when she spotted officer Donnelly withdrawing some items from a locker that wasn't his. Pleasantly surprised at seeing him there, since it meant that Chisholm had returned early from court also, Shakahnna grinned as she tip-toed in his direction.

Donnelly had his head and arms inside the locker container, possibly digging through a gymbag inside, when the redhead screamed and grabbed him from behind on either side of his waistline. The result was that the young man yelled in surprise and accidentally jumped inside the metal compartment, further getting his upper body entangled within the items there. A surprising amount of racing paraphernalia that seemed to be plastered all over the inside of the locker was seen next by her.

Swearing to himself, the officer brought his head out of the locker and angrily turned around to see who had surprised him, and it was only then that Shakahnna noticed this man wasn't Eric Donnelly at all. While both men were the same height and had a facial resemblance, some faint differences were obvious when she was up-close to this person, such as the fact that he had longer hair. Enough so that she knew she had made a mistake.

"Lady, what's _with_ you?", this new officer demanded as he scratched the tangled hair at the top of his head.

The way he spoke was definitely an indication of him being someone else, as Donnelly would never refer to her as a lady.

"You're not Donnelly!", the redhead responded, as if he was partially responsible for the misunderstanding.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that!", the man exclaimed, "_Thank_ you! I'm Kevin. Been here for months now, and all I hear is 'Hey Eric this, Hey Eric that'. So why did you wanna shove Donnelly into a locker?".

"Only because it'd be funny", she explained, expecting the answer to make perfect sense, "But I'll kick him in the nuts for you if it'll make this accident go away".

"Really?", Kevin smiled back, "In that case, let's you and I talk, officer…".

He looked at her name tag for an instant.

"Warren", he finished, "I happen to know quite a few people who'd like to put their name on the petition to get _that_ done".

Shakahnna beamed a large grin as she clapped her hands together in front of her chest in anticipation.

"Let me show you to my desk", her new associate pointed as he closed the locker with his other hand, "We have _much_ to talk about".


	53. Chapter 43 Self Assurance

AN: Thank you so very much to you guys 3

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A typical Tuesday evening at hand, with Shakahnna Warren reviewing the many different dishes of Chinese food that were displayed in front of the them in the living room. Chisholm was continually complaining about the lack of healthy options in those servings, and Donnelly going on about how he was unable to relax after such a hard day at work.

It was between bouts of "Surely you see the need for some veggies in that because..." from the younger man and "Those guys keep acting like a bunch of..." followed by expletives from the older one that the redhead noticed that the television set was on. Contrary to her wishes, agent Donnelly had placed the channel on the evening news. She could've protested, but it quickly occurred to her that it would take less hassle to let him watch the news program which was only going to annoy his surly attitude further, than it would to argue with him over the choice of channels. Besides, the more experienced cop would start commenting about the day's events to himself, get irate, and switch the station via remote control soon enough, if experience was any indication.

"Here be's a broccoli, in sweet and sour sauce, even!", the young woman grinned as she picked the food out of the container with a fork.

Still smiling, she licked the red sauce off the vegetable before pointing it in Chisholm's direction, who winced at the offering, appearing unimpressed.

"You be's the one who keeps going on about wanting veggies!", the teenager countered his silent stare.

At least it was enough for the young man to not protest further as he bit the broccoli off the fork and investigated further, adamant that he was going to find something that was both nutritious and tasted good at the same time. So it was while she was digging further into the container of sweet and sour rice that Shakahnna's gaze passed by the television screen, and stopped there when the Umbrella logo appeared behind the newscaster who was speaking to the camera from his seated point of view.

Remembering what the young woman had informed them both about that pharmaceutical company's horrific and illegal activities, the two men there also took notice, Donnelly increasing the volume as the male anchorman continued talking. With the digital name identifying him as Ben Bertolucci, the journalist explained that an accident had caused an explosion at one of the local Umbrella plants, leaving six employees dead. Bertolucci went on to mention the names of six men, none of which sounded familiar to the redhead, until their six faces were then shown in black and white. The young woman's eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and sadness when she recognized the men that Albert Wesker had shot while on the warpath to reach, interrogate and then execute Claymont. Not surprisingly, the real reason those men died wasn't being made public.

"The families of the deceased were notified of the tragedy this morning", the journalist continued when his visage returned to the screen, only to then be replaced by earlier footage of a hysterical woman and two small kids who were hugging her legs.

And just when Shakahnna didn't think she could feel worse about what she had seen Wesker do, she just did.

"Fred was too young!" the identified widow of one of the dead men cried into the screen, "He was just 33 years old, for god's sake! How can something like this happen in some company that's supposed to be the safest to work in?! Why isn't anyone held accountable for this?!".

Shakahnna's eyes widened and throat felt uncomfortable as the woman's further statement was muted and the news program returned to Bertolucci in the studio.

"The matter of the handful of employees who were also in processing plant number four is also somewhat of a mystery", the young journalist continued, nonchalantly loosening the tie around his collar, indicating he was more interested in what he had to say than in his appearance.

"Go figure, huh?", Donnelly threw a quick glance towards his housemates, "Just when you didn't believe in a divine God, this happens".

He didn't notice the sidetracked nod that Chisholm gave while still watching the news, or the lack of response from the teenager, who he had expected to be glad at the report, as the older man himself returned to the program.

"This reporter personally tired to make contact with several of the survivors from plant four, but found all of them to have vacated their homes, as well as their families", the journalist explained, the surprise still readable on his face, "So why would they opt to leave their work and their home? That's the million dollar question".

Another shift by Bertolucci in his chair. Obviously not the station's regular anchorman, his informal dress and manner made it clear that he was more at home working for the newspapers.

"Unfortunately, that mystery doesn't seem to be close to being solved as I was also able to make contact with one ex-Umbrella employee from plant four, in his new home outside Raccoon City", the journalist continued, "This employee, who will remain nameless, expressed his wishes to not be disturbed about this tragedy. He also wished his whereabouts to be kept secret, which as a journalist, I am obliged to cater to. Thus, the contact information for this person has already been destroyed. Perhaps this nameless ex-employee feels ashamed at surviving this sad event when many others did not. I personally didn't get the opportunity to ask him, but regardless, it's clear that his departure from Umbrella and lack of cooperation is leaving more questions than answers here".

A shuffle of some paper on the desk in front of him before Bertolucci cleared his throat and resumed talking.

"In somewhat related news", the young journalist went on, "And this just hasn't been a good day for Umbrella Inc, ladies and gentlemen, or for Raccoon City as a whole, vice-president Claymont, one of the company's highest-ranking officials, suffered a fatal heart attack. Connections at Umbrella say that Mr Claymont was taking part in a meeting when news of the explosion in processing plant four broke within the company, and sources say he broke down in tears over the lives lost, before collapsing in the conference room. The 57-year old executive was declared dead on arrival at Raccoon General".

Another shift in his seat.

"Before we move on, also, I've just been told that a spokesperson for Umbrella is in the studio right now", the reporter continued, "So I'll pass you on to my colleague, Emily, ladies and gentlemen".

The image of the familiar female reporter replaced Bertolucci's.

"Thanks, Ben", Emily Corrie-Smith started, seated in another part of the news studio, next to an older and stockier man who was dressed in a 3-piece suit, appearing as comfortable as she was while resting on the simple, metal chair, "With me, I have Mr Hall, who is a spokesperson for Umbrella's Raccoon division. He's been discussing this tragedy with us today. Eugene, any words?".

"Thank you, Emily", Mr Hall cleared his throat as he turned his attention to the camera, "Umbrella wishes to inform all the citizens of Raccoon City that our prayers and thoughts are with the families of those loyal and hard-working colleagues who lost their lives in this tragedy".

He rubbed his forehead, appearing genuinely grief-stricken at this moment.

"It's also important for whatever employees are worried about their part in this accident to not be concerned", he added next, "Despite its large size, Umbrella is a corporation with the highest moral standards, after all, and we think of every one of our people as family members. That's why it's important for anyone who had anything to do with this accident to please come back home so we can talk about what happened. It's for the sake of the families of the victims, to give them peace with the knowledge of what happened, and also to make sure that such a horrible tragedy never happens again".

With that, the older man cleared his throat again and turned his attention back to the female reporter next to him.

"That's it, Emily", he continued, "Thank you for allowing me to address the people of this city. We're just looking to investigate the cause of this accident even while we're preparing for the funeral of one of our finest people, and our finest vice-president ever. We just want for witnesses who were there to come and speak to us while that occurs. As I said, there's nothing for them to worry about".

"Thank you, Mr Hall", Corrie-Smith replied as she shuffled some pieces of paper on the desk in front of her, even as her eyes remained glued to the TV screen, "Now, on to some of the other news for today...".

It was all she got to say before Donnelly pressed a button on the remote control and switched the channel.

"Gotta wonder what's really taking place, huh?", the older cop chuckled as he surveyed the list of shows that were available, "I hear that employees who survive an 'accidental explosion' always clear their homes and move to another city".

"Can't say I be's knowing", Shakahnna lied as she abruptly climbed to a standing position, leaving the food unfinished, "Chino, honey, I'm gonna be lying down for a while. I'm feeling more tired than I thought, and have got a bit of a headache".

"You sure you're OK?", Chisholm stood up next, "You don't look so well".

"Yeah, yeah, just need to rest a bit", she gave a fake smile next, not mentioning the most unpleasant feeling in her stomach at knowing the true reason behind that fake news story, "You stay and enjoy yourself, and I'll be back in an hour or two".

"Only if you're sure", the younger officer offered his hand.

The redhead kissed him on the cheek and tiredly proceeded into the bedroom, wishing it was really physically weariness that plagued her, but knowing that the real reason was an infinitely more difficult mental one.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Fuck you, Redfield!", Shakahnna's exclamation reverberated through the RPD floor as she angrily left the STARS office, already regretting having gone there to use the fax machine after having found the one downstairs to not be working.

Not surprisingly, she hadn't been there for a full minute, not even having finished the task of sending the required facsimile to the prosecutor's office, before she and the marksman went from throwing angry glances to each other, to exchanging snide remarks, and then finally loudly swearing. So Shakahnna ignored the several fellow officers she passed by, gripping the crumpled sheet of paper in a frustrated manner, and returned to her usual desk by Chisholm and Donnelly. It was one of those 'I could just fucking cry' type of days.

Of course, her frustration was only increased due to the redhead knowing that she and agent Redfield had more in common than they had differences. They both hated Umbrella, for starters, and their personalities were clearly those that couldn't keep their thoughts to themselves, even when among a large group of hostile listeners. And she knew that the marksman didn't know about Wesker or her own background in the labs, due to Valentine not having told him about the teenager's experience.

At least, she assumed and hoped that the older woman had not done so, Shakahnna not having thought to insist that the mechanic keep the provided information to herself. Then again, officer Valentine did seem clever, and considering that Redfield wasn't harassing her for answers on Umbrella, it was safe to make the assumption that his girlfriend had kept him in the dark for now. Which was good, because the teenager either wasn't ready or even able to provide any of the answers the STARS' marksman would be searching for. And as interesting as a new game of Dodging The Redfield would be, Shakahnna already had too much on her mind.

Besides, she tried to justify the lack of communication between herself and the STARS members as she approached the spot where Chisholm had his face buried in a thick file, it was probably a good thing she was winding Redfield up. That way, the other officers wouldn't realize that she, Chisholm and Donnelly were actually on the STARS' side, especially when she still believed that more than half the force was on Umbrella's payroll.

The feeling of self-justification only lasted a few more seconds, though, as she already hated the fact that she was on bad terms with those isolated STARS agents. But the frustration of not being able to do anything about it didn't change as she placed the sheet of paper on the surface of her desk, fighting the urge to contact Wesker and set up a meeting between her, him and the survivors from the Umbrella mansion.

Shakahnna sighed as Chisholm looked up to her at last, and Donnelly had returned to their place of work, holding a file of his own as the older cop was concentrated on his own case.

She didn't want to say it out loud, partly because of not wishing to be a burden to them, partly because Donnelly would've been happy to mention that he had warned her of this, and partly because she didn't know what to do if she left the RPD. But the real problem was the trouble she was having in keeping up with the workload. It seemed that for every 15 minutes of interaction she had with a colleague or a member of the public, an hour of very specific paperwork was required to follow. She didn't understand much of the terminology, and every time either of these two men explained something to her and she wrote it down so she wouldn't have to ask it again, another question came up that she hadn't encountered before, forcing her to bother them for help again.

Frankly, it was rubbish.

Of course, this was precisely the reason why recruits undertook six months of training before starting the job and further in-work training, which she had decided to skip by jumping into the figurative deep end of the pool. So it surely shouldn't have come as a surprise that she was having so much difficulty, and the job wasn't as simple as beating up a stereotypical criminal before going home for the night.

Thus, Shakahnna sat down at her desk and rubbed her face, insisting she wasn't going to be a little bundle of goth today.

And to make things worse, she still needed to find a fax machine that worked.

"Anything the matter?", Chisholm had raised his eyes off the surface of the desk in front of him, long enough to notice something was wrong.

Her facial expression while she locked eyes with him was enough of an indication that her answer was an affirmative one.

She was about to open her mouth to reply when the young man's workphone rang, causing him to stare at it, then back at her, all the while wondering if he should ignore it or not.

"Just pick it up, sweetie", the teenager offered, "It's nothing that can't wait".

"Hold that thought", the young man picked up the receiver and identified himself to the caller on the other end.

"This have anything to do with the screaming rant everyone on this floor's been overhearing?", Donnelly offered in his own turn as he remained on his feet and Chisholm continued talking in a hushed tone.

"Do you be's knowing where there's a working fax machine?", Shakahnna answered after a sigh.

"I think the one in the STARS office is fine", the older officer offered, and then understood the source of the problem.

"Anywhere else?".

"Not that I know of, no", Donnelly had to admit, "Why? They giving you hassle when you go in there?".

No answer from the redhead, which brought a smile to his face as Chisholm hung up the phone.

"Or is it the other way around?", the more experienced officer inquired.

"What's this?", Chisholm asked in his own turn.

"Your girlfriend here doesn't get along with the STARS guys", Donnelly answered on her behalf, "And that's a shame, too. I don't think they're that bad".

"Donnelly, you be's a shit. I never said they be'd that", Shakahnna countered, "Just because some of us don't be having a mutual hatred of Irons that Redfield has".

"Is that why you're such friends with him?", the rookie grinned in his own turn.

"Well, there's that", the older man went on, "And he slugged that pipsqueak Elran. Now, I never approve of violence against fellow colleagues, but if I was to approve it, it'd be against that toothpick first and foremost".

"It's not that I don't believe them", Shakahnna explained, "Not after that".

"Yeah, we know, Shak", Chisholm sympathised as Donnelly was too busy congratulating himself for his dislike of officer Elran, "There's no doubt they're telling the truth".

"But you gotta keep in mind that what they say and what everyone else here knows ain't the same thing", the older man followed through in a more serious demeanour, "There's no one to confirm the STARS' story, as far as everyone else here is concerned. If a certain someone hadn't confirmed everything Redfield and company said, and with fake witnesses and reports saying the contrary, we'd probably be acting the same way".

"Especially if our friends died and there was no one to say they met their end another way", Chisholm added.

"So no making friends with STARS for you two", the older cop followed through as he gathered up his paperwork, "You're better off going along with the masses here and helping Redfield from the shadows".

"Hey. Why do you be's special?", the teenager countered as he began walking off.

"Please, Shak", the male rookie stated as he continued writing something down for work, "What're they gonna do to him? Like him less?".

"Patience is the key, guys!", the older man called from a distance as he got further away, "Keep that in mind, eh?".

"Yes, patience, for all of us", Chisholm cleared his throat as he intentionally placed his elbows on the files on his desk, "Cops and cabin-dwellers alike. So, anything else on your mind, Shakkie?".

"Just looking for a fax, sweetie", she gave him a smile, "Any suggestions?".

She was about to suggest the idea of leaving the Police headquarters and visiting a shop in downtown Raccoon City called Advanced Graphics, which she knew from experience would allow her to use a fax machine for a small fee. The 50 cents she'd have to use to get the task done wasn't a problem, of course, not considering the allowance she was being paid weekly from the mayor. The main question was whether taking ten minutes to go there and another ten minutes to return would be a good use of the time, considering how much still needed to get done.

What other option was there? To go back to the STARS office? Talk about uncomfortable silences.

Her decision made, the teenager stood back up and was about to inform Chisholm of her intention to go outside, and wished to ask him if he wanted to come along, though she suspected he was too busy for a social walk. But the need to ask was still there, just to be sure.

At least she would have done so, but a folded newspaper that was resting on another officer's unoccupied desk caught her attention.

What was so important about this particular newspaper which stopped the redhead in her tracks?

Without saying anything, Shakahnna left her work area and proceeded towards the latter desk, with officer Chisholm's eyes following her the whole way. And without knowing why, she unfolded the black and white newspaper there, holding her breath as she began reading the headline.

"Local businessman murdered in home invasion robbery?", the teenager began reading in a whispered tone.

"Shak?", Chisholm asked as he stood up in his own turn.

"Ted Robakowitz was the victim of what appears to be an armed robbery last night", the young woman didn't hear him as she kept reading, "Alyssa Ashcroft reports that around 1AM, the home at 540 Euston Drive was invaded by what appears to be an armed robber? Mr Robakowitz was reported to have an alarm system, as well as bars on every window, in addition to a metal doorway, but the robber seemed...".

She stopped reading, barely able to believe the words printed.

"The robber seemed to have burst through the side wall to make his way to Mr Robakowitz's bedroom, where the victim was found with his head crushed where he slept?".

She stopped reading again and looked back to where Chisholm was standing in front of his own desk, concern obvious on his face.

"Mr Robakowitz, who serves as executive lab consultant for Umbrella Inc, was declared dead at the scene, and Police are appealing for witnesses", she learned further, "Police also learned that he apparently confronted the robber before his death, with neighbours reporting hearing gunshots from the crime scene. An intruder who was only said to be a 'blur of black' by a sole neighbour who looked out her window was later seen to be hurrying away. Police guess that that Mr Robakowitz opened fire with a legally-owned handgun, which the robber took with him before absconding from the residence. The question of how the victim died remains, as does the method in which the intruder broke into the house, but preliminary reports indicate that this is a random act of violence which the Police are...".

Shakahnna stopped reading completely, folding the newspaper as she exhaled heavily. Looking back to where officer Chisholm was, she gave him a sad smile as she realized that her day had just gotten even more complicated.

"Uh, honey, I need to leave", she declared.

"What? Why??", a worried Chisholm inquired, stepping around his desk to come closer, "Are you feeling sick or anything?".

"Uh, no, I'm good, just, I need to run", the teenager uttered as she quickly met him halfway and kissed him on the lips, "Just, tell the brass I'm feeling under the weather, OK?".

"But, I mean, anything you need me to do?", the young man offered, more anxious than before.

"No, no, and I'm fine, really, just can't be here this afternoon because, well, something just came up", she said as she grabbed the jacket and quickly marched towards the floor's exit, leaving Chisholm in his work environment, and feeling that he was better off there.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Weskie?", Shakahnna asked out loud as she pushed the cabin door open, looking through the small living environment.

She recognized every piece of furniture, as well as their layout. Surely, the cabin's sole occupant hadn't changed a thing in the last several weeks.

The redhead walked into the living room and casually closed the door behind herself, and called her friend's name again, carefully listening for any hint of movement anywhere. Unfortunately, the place seemed deserted, which made her wonder why the only door to it wasn't locked.

Then again, no one knew of this location, the teenager reasoned, and not like Wesker had to worry about the sporadic hiker in the woods finding it by accident, not since the murders in Raccoon City were said to be especially prolific around the forest. And lastly, it wouldn't have surprised her if Wesker started keeping his door unlocked on purpose nowadays, as she doubted he had much to fear after being physically reborn with strengths most couldn't imagine. Shakahnna pitied any burglars who had the misfortune of breaking in here, as the man in the sunglasses might've murdered them, or worse yet, sat them down and discussed the importance of the justice system.

The last thought brought a smile to her face, but one that was quickly replaced with worry as she slapped the folded newspaper on the couch.

"Weskie!!", she called out louder, this time landing next to the paper in a seated position.

She slapped the cushion in a frustrated matter, feeling annoyed that she was ready to give him an indignant speech, and the recipient of her crossness wasn't even here. It seemed she had left work, and Chino with it, while her responsibilities were increasing with every passing hour, and all of it was a wasted effort.

Shakahnna was considering the options of either returning to the city centre or waiting here for some more time, when a black blur whooshed into the living from outside. She instinctively turned around to see that the door was flapped open. The redhead then almost jumped in surprise when Albert Wesker was standing several feet away from her at his full height, his hands resting in pockets as he smugly looked down at her from behind his sunglasses.

"You called?", the older man offered.

"Hey Weskie", the girl smiled back first, before remembering the reason for her surprise visit, "Aaaah! Where did you be's coming from?".

"I was patrolling the forest, and heard you calling my name", the former RPD captain game a quick explanation, "Not that I do not enjoy your company, miss Warren, but something on your mind?".

"You must be the only person in the world who regains his confidence by going out and committing mass murder!", she shot back while rising to her feet, waving the folded newspaper in his face, as if that would explain what she was talking about.

More curious than anything, Wesker took a hold of the paper and unfolded it before summarizing the contents of the front page. The pleased look on his face spread to a wide grin as he then handed the newspaper back to her.

"I repeat, what is wrong?", he asked again, "What leads you to believe that the mysterious assailant is me?".

"Doesn't it be you?", Shakahnna inquired the obvious.

"I don't know what you're talking about", he didn't try to hide the fact that he was lying.

"It is you!", she pointed her right index at him, "And look at the fucking smile on your face!".

"Now, miss Warren", he continued smiling as he withdrew his hands out of the pockets and cracked his knuckles, "Are you accusing me of taking pleasure in the death of a fellow human being? Surely, there must be dozens or even hundreds of individuals in this city alone who can force their way through walls and who have a problem with Umbrella employees".

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!", was the only response she uttered as she crashed back onto the sofa cushion, prompting him to appear as if this was the most fun he had in a long time.

"To be fair, Robakowitz was a special case because he couldn't be hit where he worked", the grin finally disappeared as the usually-serious expression returned on Wesker's face, "Umbrella's sixth underground laboratory beneath the city's university was, and still is, too well-secured to be attacked directly, even by me".

He paused for a moment, disliking that he had to admit to a physical limitation.

"So it took quite a bit of work to find the right person to interrogate regarding Robakowitz's current address", Wesker recalled, "After that, it was a figurative piece of cake. I'm actually surprised Umbrella was so careless so as to allow this journalist to get a hold of the story, considering all the kills so far have been kept out of the public eye. Must be getting sloppy on their part".

"Right, Weskie", the young woman rested her forehead in her right palm, "What's the count? Which number was this guy?".

"If you must know, after Claymont, it's 39", he informed her with more than a little pride in his voice, "Robakowitz was number 37, however. Two other co-chief financial officers were put out of their misery last night".

"Oh, jeez…", Shakahnna looked back up to his towering frame, "But Weskie, you can't keep this up".

"I beg to differ, miss Warren", he sauntered to the kitchen, and returned a few seconds later with a cold, plastic gallon container full of water, "As the old saying goes – first this city, then the world. But I have not even covered 10 percent of my estimated targets yet, so I will not be travelling abroad anytime soon".

"But after what happened in that safehouse!", the redhead protested again, and stopped as she felt angry at her own naivety due to thinking that those people were the only ones Wesker would wish to annihilate.

"Miss Warren, many more high-ranking members of Umbrella need to be disposed of before the company even begins to feel that Raccoon City is too expensive a town to be operated in", came the curt reply as the older man sat on another couch and began swallowing long gulps of the water.

"With you, everything's always so black and white", the teenager finally uttered in a calmer fashion after a pause of several seconds.

"Not everything, miss Warren", Wesker was quick to counter, being more distracted from his intake of water by this conversation than he thought he should, "Just this topic. But here, yes, it is black and white. I will not deny this. The more of them I kill, the safer this city becomes. And I still await for you to give me a better solution to the Umbrella epidemic".

A silence hung in the air for several more seconds.

"What about the families?!", she irreverentlyreplied, "What about all those people who live with the people you're doing this to and who don't know what's going on?".

Another gulp of the water by him, no longer finding the need to counter her points right away, so Wesker took his time and emptied the container before placing it on the floor and next to his feet.

"First off, miss Warren, a majority of the vermin I'm euthanizing no longer live with their families, as Umbrella is their family", he tried not to grin as he finished his statement, "What? Did you think that one could become such a high-ranking member of a company that personifies evil by caring for loved ones during their free time? If I remember correctly from the files which were obtained after dear old Claymont literally lost his head…".

He stopped talking momentarily, noticing the angry scowl he was receiving from his friend for remembering that event so lightly, especially as it was so emotionally traumatic for her.

"Well, this man literally had a group of destitute individuals who were taken off the streets and made to live in his safehouse as his twisted idea of a family", he decided to ignore the irate look so he could make his important point, "It was a surprise even to someone who had learned of all his doings, to have a woman and three children living under threat of death if they leave their 'home', just so this vermin could have the image of a home in his safehouse every time he moved to a new city".

"That does not be changing the families who were on TV!", Shakahnna almost screamed back.

"Doesn't it?", the former RPD agent objectively replied, knowing what she was referring to, but not caring, "It's odd that you seem more worried about the collateral damage left behind by the few dead guards who were not being honest with their loved ones in the first place, than you do with the fact that I found and rescued Claymont's last 'family' two days ago since they had been moved away from the safehouse so as to give him peace of mind while he gathered his documents and vacated. Where his past wives and children were is beyond my knowledge, though, and it's not unreasonable to assume they are no longer even alive".

"Honestly, I hadn't even thought about them", the younger woman admitted while rubbing her face.

"It's alright", Wesker retook the empty water container while standing up and heading back towards the kitchen, continuing the conversation from there, "I can imagine how difficult these recent events are for yourself and Chisholm".

Returning to the living room, he returned to a seated position on the smaller couch as he withdrew the 50-calibre Desert Eagle and nonchalantly began cleaning it.

"Ah!", a smiling Shakahnna pointed at him, a new thought having just entered her mind, "I got you on a point! The whole innocent until proven guilty thing!".

The older man rolled his eyes from behind the shades.

"You did tell me at one point that it was the reason why the justice system was as it is, no?", the rookie eagerly followed through, "Because otherwise, the lack of due process would endanger an innocent person from being punished. And that means you're a shit!".

The comment caused a smile to appear on his face, rather than prompting him to think about the implication of his actions.

"Miss Warren, you should know more than anyone else that I have no problem sparing the rank and file if they do not get in my way", Wesker continued staring at his weapon as it was cleaned further, "The assault on Claymont's hideout should've proven that. So unless you believe that these senior executives or their defenders who insist on standing their ground are innocent, or that they should be arrested and given their day in court, just what exactly are we conversing over here?".

"I don't know! Just…", she stopped and slumped back in the sofa, "Just try to limit your hit list of names. Maybe death and stuff is OK for you to be frolicking with, but I don't like it when people die. Even if I know it's the best thing for others around them and all that pish".

"Maybe after Raccoon City's sanitised", Wesker stood back up to his full height, reholstering the handgun before he walked to a nearby cabinet and withdrew more ammunition for it, "I do hope you will not think ill of me if I should have to leave now, though. There are two more advisers who should be disposed of before sunset. But I would enjoy a longer get-together later, in addition to your opinion of how life is as a gun-carrying member of the RPD".

"Guess I would too", she informed him as she lazily stood up in her own turn, "Be's a lot I can tell you that doesn't involve yelling. Chino's probably be'd having kittens. Or more fucking triplicate forms to do".

"Here, tomorrow at sunset good for you?", he politely opened the only door to his cabin and held it there for her to walk through.

"Nah, patrol duty", she recalled, "So make it sunrise the day after".

"Will clear my schedule", the taller man followed her outside and locked the door behind them both, "I'll be able to use a slight rest by that time anyway".

She bit back the urge to cringe at his words, wondering how much higher the number of dead would be by that time, especially if he had physically worn himself out to warrant a rest. If it was 39 now, would it be in the triple digits the next time she saw him?

Not that he appeared worried about the prospect. On the contrary, Wesker seemed happier now as he marched off towards his next target than he ever was as an agent of the RPD.

At least one person here was happy as a proverbial clam.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

She hated being there. And she hated staring at that damn mirror even more.

Elena Warren wisely kept those thoughts to herself as she received the fax that arrived a few minutes ago. Surely, the piece of paper she began reading must've been a summons that ordered her to report to Umbrella's best-known, but least visited, headquarters. There, she'd have to sit down and be made as comfortable as possible, whether she wished for a fan, something to drink, or whatever other luxuries one could use before answering numerous questions that were fired at her by strangers from the other side of a 1-way mirror. It was the act of seeing her own reflection when she conversed with those heads of Umbrella that annoyed Elena the most, as being in that floor meant that one was safe. After all, no one was ever executed while there, as Umbrella preferred to send such permanent orders against subjects within those employees' own work environments or homes, depending on which would have the best outcome as an example for others. But within that large conference chamber, the source of the stress was having to explain one's self to employers who never thought one was worthy of seeing the people one was talking to, and rarely ever being given a compliment.

Sighing to herself, Mrs Warren unfolded the piece of paper and began to read what she expected to be the date and time of her own appointment in front of the company's senior leaders. Instead, she gasped in surprise upon realizing that it wasn't a summons at all, but a warning, one that was informing her that her job performance needed to improve as soon as possible.

"Mrs Warren", she read the letter to herself in a hushed tone after she settled down at her desk, in the privacy of her office, "As you are aware, for the past nearly twenty years, Raccoon City has been a town that thrived and lived by Umbrella's will alone. But it is feared that Umbrella's hold on this area is lessening due to the incompetence shown by many of our labs here. While your reputation as a leader of the late Vice-President Claymont's calibre precedes you, we have still to see that leadership in action".

Elena stopped reading for an instant, disliking the direction that this letter started with.

"The problems you were handed after the disaster at Raccoon City forest have only worsened under your charge", she continued after breathing in and out once, "We now count more successful escapes of subjects from the lab, and we trust we do not need to remind you of the potential for damage of even a single such event. In addition, the number of serious accidents in the laboratories has increased almost tenfold".

She ceased reading again, but this time because she was getting angry.

"To conclude, Mrs Warren, you have exactly one month to prove to us that you are entitled to retain your position here", she neared the end of the letter, "As the leadership of experienced and loyal subjects like you is necessary, especially in this difficult time when the actions of a certain mysterious assailant continues to cause some apprehension with us, your potential as the head of industry needs to be verified".

Elena angrily crumbled the sheet of paper between her hands, having been insulted further by being called a mere subject of Umbrella before the letter's conclusion.

This was worse. It wasn't even a summons to appear before the head leaders. Instead, it was a warning from afar, as if her presence wasn't deemed appropriate to inform her that the work she did was unsatisfactory.

She didn't need any special knowledge to predict what would happen if the people behind the 1-way mirror didn't see what they deemed to be an appropriate improvement. Being demoted would be a blessing at that point. But even as she instinctively came up with ways to improve the work standard around here, a small piece of her mind asked if this faxed warning was really because of the seniors' changed opinion of her, or because of their own worry over their safety. It seemed that Umbrella's main headquarters were starting to distance themselves from the Raccoon City's labs. Was this because their high-ranking members were scared of this mysterious serial killer who seemed to attack their kind?

Elena didn't know, but regardless, she would have to be more strict from now on, starting by holding guards personally responsible for escapes. That would mean more executions at work tomorrow if anyone else succeeded in the nearly impossible task of getting out of one of the cages alive.

And as for that serial killer, she had her own ideas as to the assailant's identity. She would be investigating that problem when the ones closer to her work were resolved.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Michael, dear!", Elena Warren opened the door to her husband's office within the Warren mansion without knocking, her smiling expression was met with an equally friendly one from him, but only for an instant.

The mayor's face quickly turned to one that was serious and worried when he realized that this wasn't a social call from his wife, and that Mrs Warren's intentions did not appear pleasant or honourable. Still, though, she was smiling, which made him worry even further, as it meant she was about to have fun, probably at his expense. It had been like this ever since his spouse had been promoted at the Umbrella facilities as a socialite.

"Uh, hello, dear", he tried to suppress his discomfort as he stood up from the chair behind his desk, "Monica didn't mention that you were here. What a pleasant surprise".

He disliked having to lie, as his day had been going well until now, and he previously thought he had several more hours before needing to see her. Then again, simply wishing that he was as happy with Elena as the day they were married was a waste of time. They had stopped being content together so many years ago, that the negative relationship was now the norm, and the only time the city's mayor even came close to enjoying himself with his wife was when they had company over, or were in front of cameras. At least then, she acted like she enjoyed being with him, and gave him respect, and that temporary feeling was nice, even when false.

"I advised darling Monica to take the rest of the afternoon off", Elena mentioned after closing the door behind herself, "I'd rather not have a member of your staff hearing you when you're like this".

The man's body tensed further at what she said, as all it could mean was that he was in for one of her really bad temper tantrums. He thought that she at least paid him the courtesy of limiting his humiliation to between the two of them, without his secretary witnessing the event. What he did not know, though, was that his wife had sent the clerical assistant away due to wanting to preserve the image of the mayor as someone who was a strong leader for this city, and not Umbrella's lackey. But she wasn't going to waste her time by pointing out that fact, not when she had more important things to do, and she might as well get this nagging question out of her mind while she was already at home on official business for her employer.

"You took Tuesday off earlier this week", she curtly accused, as if doing so without her permission was something he should feel ashamed about, "Imagine my surprise when I learned that, Michael. Where were you?".

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, angrily waiting for his explanation as her husband became even more anxious and tried to not stutter.

"Now, dear, I mean…", Mr Warren began talking before he stopped, carefully picking the right words to not worsen the trouble he was in, "I don't want to make you mad. I know I usually take the second Wednesday to be with the kids, but you know I'll be tied down with the budgetary meetings next week. So I took a day out with Joanne and Shak this week, that's all".

He involuntarily held his breath, waiting to see if she would accept the truth and calm down, or become more irate at learning it. As usual, it was up to other factors to decide how much leeway she would give him.

Several seconds passed, with perplexity first appearing on his wife's features, which was then replaced with curiosity. Fortunately, whatever was on her mind her appeared to have distracted her from the wrath that was pointed at him.

"You were with them both?", Mrs Warren questioned next.

"Uh, yes", he nodded his head several times with a cautious smile, glad for the turn of events, "Yes, I was. Had a relaxing morning to take my mind off things, then spent the afternoon with the two girls".

"Was the second one with you at 2:15?", she quickly asked back, this time approaching his workstation as if something very crucial was dependent on his answer.

"Well, yes, dear, she was", he rushed to remember while stroking his forehead, and hoping he wasn't making a mistake, "Neither girl left until almost dinnertime. Joanne was mentioning her school while Shak talked about the new job she…".

"Are you absolutely sure she didn't leave your side at that time?!", she angrily interrupted while pressing her right palm against the surface of the desk and slightly leaning towards him, "Even for half an hour?".

The hapless fellow stammered under the inquiry, but soon felt better about his ability to remember his adopted daughter's location for a certainty, now that he had more time to think about it.

"Sweetheart, she didn't", Mr Warren was calmer as he reassured his wife while sitting back down on the chair, his body somewhat more relaxed now that she didn't seem so determined to harass him, "Both girls were with me the whole time, I promise. Why? What's so important about that?".

"Shut up", she quietly shot back as she stood back up to her normal height.

She did not mention that this past Tuesday was when one of her colleagues had his holiday home broken into at 2:15 in the afternoon by the mysterious serial killer. It was only a few seconds later that his security entourage responded to his screams for help, but even by that time, they found his severed head lying several yards away from the rest of his body. No one was seen leaving the crime scene, except that a large hole was present in the brick wall of the victim's garage, where his camping equipment was kept, and which he had been surveying in preparation for a vacation when attacked.

For quite some time now, Elena Warren had been following the theory that the red-headed girl was the one behind the killings, probably due to possessing abilities that they didn't know she had. Such a theory also supported the reason why Wesker had been so obsessed with experimenting on her, doing so even the day before he was finally destroyed in his own schemes. But if Shakahnna had an alibi for that particular event, then Mrs Warren's entire assumption was destroyed, and that made her feel out of control. Having a suspect to deal with had given her a degree of assurance even if those murders were taking place, but that was gone now.

Of course, she would confirm what her husband was saying. But Michael had always been much too weak-willed to try anything behind her back, and there was nothing to suggest his attitude changed now. So if what she expected to be proven actually occurred, and the annoying redhead turned out to be elsewhere during the killing, then Mrs Warren was as clueless to the identity of the assassin as everyone else.

A flood of ideas entered her mind, even as she was staring in her husband's direction, but ignoring him at the same time. She thought that the carnage against Umbrella was maybe being carried out by a disgruntled member of STARS. But then, how was a member of STARS making his or her way past brick walls and the most heavily-defended labs without being injured? Or knowing the work and home locations of so many of Umbrella's staff members?

Maybe the assassin was using explosives to force entry, she told herself, even while she remembered that none of the surviving security personnel reported hearing explosions.

Elena Warren gritted her teeth. No, the Umbrella staff were only lying about not hearing explosions being used to force entry into the targets' area, and that was either because they were lazy or scared. It had to be. Surely, the only solution was to increase their punishment for failure so as to prompt them to be more diligent at their post. She was sick of all the incompetence and insubordination that surrounded her everywhere.

It was around this time that she noticed her husband speaking to her again, but she paid no attention to him, instead turning around and irritably marching out of the office. Her one positive variable had been removed from the equation, and wasting time with her husband was definitely not going to help her feel better.

She just wished she knew what would.


	54. Chapter 44 Business as usual?

"See? I _told_ you this would be made as painless as possible", Annette Birkin gave as sincere a smile as she could manage while handing a sheet of paper to one of her subordinates to sign.

The responsive young man gave a nervous chuckle as he accepted the summary of the evaluation that his supervisor had just finished writing by hand, and quickly signed it at the bottom of the sheet. The fact that he still didn't make eye contact while returning the evaluation page across the desk to her was enough of a concern for her to delay returning to the large amount of responsibilities that still waited for her.

"At the risk of falling even further behind schedule, is there something specific that's troubling you, Walter?", doctor Birkin added with a raspy voice that advertised how tired she felt at the time herself.

The junior lab assistant finally locked eyes with the older woman, though remaining silent even now. He considered the option of politely informing her that nothing was the matter, even if that was clearly a lie. There was always the danger of figuratively jumping out of the pan and into the fire, of course. Then again, this was Annette Birkin he was sitting in the office with, someone whose reputed consideration for her colleagues and subordinates was well-deserved. But also, there was also the fact that he'd be bothering her with his own problems if he replied honestly, and a casual look at the older woman's tired expression showed that she had more than her share of worries right now. Did she really want to be burdened with his problems on top of those?

On the other hand, why would she have intentionally stopped their official conversation and asked that personal question if she didn't want to know? Mrs Birkin was the one person who Walter Ryan knew to not say something simply to appear polite or to make conversation. So if his supervisor was willing to listen to his many worries, would it make sense to turn that opportunity away? Especially if she was the one stable factor in this ever-destabilizing establishment that he could still hope would be on his side?

"I only get to pick _one_ worry?", he finally spoke up with a fake smile.

"No, no", the blonde woman graciously shook her head, "Just start with the biggest, OK?".

"Well, for starters, everyone's been on edge for the last several weeks", Ryan recalled, "Rumours of people being executed, being shipped out to Rockfort, and so on, are getting more and more frequent. Every day, we're finding out that more people we used to communicate with here and there are just _gone_".

"Ah. I can see how unsettling that'd make it to be here", she acknowledged, and patiently waited for him to finish.

"And we thought that losing the facility at Arklay was the worst thing that could've happened", Ryan emphatically added, suddenly more comfortable that someone was genuinely listening to him, as opposed to him having to bottle so many negative emotions without a single person to talk to for such a long time, "So many of our colleagues, just dead in that explosion. But at least we knew that was an accident. _This_. This is a _constant_ process where they take _ages_ to slowly decide who lives and who dies. As far as I know, everyone's cracking, worrying about when that kind of stuff is going to happen here. And I know why Umbrella's worried, Annette. I know it's because someone is leaking information to that fucker who's killing everyone involved with the company. But surely there's a better way to deal with the threat than to get rid of everyone that they think may be the culprit. We must've had hundreds of Rockfort transfers so far, and as far as I know, the suits aren't any more relaxed, are they?".

Ryan stopped talking due to the need to catch his breath, having rushed through so many intense worries in such a short time. It was several seconds later that doctor Birkin slightly leaned forward on the desk.

"I mean, nothing like that's going to happen _here_, right?", the assistant continued with a lower tone of voice as his supervisor laid her elbows on the surface in front of her torso.

"No, Walter, it's not", she reassured him enough so he could take his first relaxed breath of air in weeks, "Never. It may be Umbrella policy, but it's not _ours_. William and I will always make sure that whoever works with us is safe, I promise".

The young man gave what she suspected was a real smile for a change.

"No disrespect intended, Annette, but I take your word on this, but not your husband's", the subordinate's body language relaxed as he continued talking, "At least not any more".

"What? Whatever do you mean?", the doctor sat up in genuine curiosity at his words, "He's just been busy, that's all. I don't care how small this place is. It's not unusual to not see William for two or three days at a time".

"I take it you haven't heard?", Ryan was careful with how he should inform her, "It's not just him not wanting to interact with, well, anyone. Your husband's been getting more and more agitated, doctor Birkin. Just two days ago? Sborksy stopped him in the hallway to ask a question. Next thing, the _other_ doctor Birkin threw a beaker of acid at his face for the interruption. Sborksy's _still_ in the infirmary".

Mrs Birkin said nothing, her fatigued expression first remaining the same for several seconds, before her eyes squinted and teeth pressed together as she finally absorbed the new information. If administration chief had to guess, he would've believed that the news he brought was the last thing she wanted to hear, as if she now had yet another chore in addition to the countless ones she woke up to this morning. The irony that having to visit her husband was considered a chore wasn't lost to the young man who remained seated across the desk from the blonde woman. But then again, considering that everyone in these laboratories was under tremendous pressure to not make mistakes, with dire consequences if they failed, and her husband was reduced to throwing acid at people's faces if they looked at him wrong, then Ryan's supervisor's position was understandable.

"It's fine, really", the older doctor rubbed her eyes, as if anticipating the subordinate's upcoming question regarding whether she was alright, "I'll go speak to my husband about this when I get the chance. Just give my regards to Sborksy, and I'll insist to dear William that he needs to be more careful with his manners".

"Thanks, doctor", Ryan nodded quickly and carefully stood up, wary that she was dismissing him, which it became clear was the case.

It was only after the young assistant left the office and closed the door behind him that the expert who was one of the two highest-ranking employees in these labs sighed to herself in frustration. In an effort to distract herself for now, she opened her email account on the computer screen which sat nearby on the desk surface, hoping for some good news, which she knew would not appear.

Not surprisingly, there were no pleasant surprises there. Just more information from her employer, in addition to a personal email from RPD chief Irons, addressed to her, which doctor Birkin guessed was the second time he was asking if she knew of any White Umbrella meetings that he was missing. Without even reading his message, she knew why it was there, as the chief of Police had been kept out of the important decisions in Umbrella since the debacle in Raccoon Forest. The lack of contact with high executives was clearly stressing him, which meant that he was continually asking colleagues that he had previous contact with for any bits of information about his own status with the company.

Doctor Birkin recalled that Irons was always considered to be somewhat of a nuisance anyway, being in Umbrella mostly because Claymont was obsessed with formalities while controlling the city. But with Claymont gone, and Elena Warren's replacement of his duties, it's no surprise that the RPD chief was being ignored more and treated like a common employee, as opposed to an important one. This was especially true after Albert Wesker betrayed Umbrella and died in the process, costing the company millions of dollars in damages and causing a public relations nightmare. Since then, there was little doubt that White Umbrella wished to provide its staff within the RPD with as little information as possible, while trusting them with only the lowliest of responsibilities.

Still, though, Mrs Birkin knew that she could not ignore Irons indefinitely, as he was doing her a favour by keeping watch over her underground laboratory's entrance which originated within the RPD above. No Umbrella members could come into her labs from the street level above without Irons telling her about the visit first, and considering how aggressive her employer was becoming towards her staff, the help was needed and appreciated.

Good thing Elena Warren was too arrogant to think that Umbrella's RPD staff was too incompetent to be a real problem, as a more careful vice-president would've been spying on Irons' conversation with her, and would've been aware that surprise visits aren't possible to her labs.

And thinking about her employer, Birkin sighed again, this time at Umbrella's nonsensical procedures. As hard as it was to believe, it seemed that her husband was correct in his distrust of White Umbrella, despite his current emotional problems.

It wasn't Umbrella per se that was the problem, of course, but its upper echelon at White Umbrella just now which was causing the trouble. William seemed to be right when he believed that their employer was becoming less stable, and their years of work and research shouldn't be handed to WU just for the asking.

After all, what did White Umbrella think it was achieving by instilling such fear within every one of its thousands of employees, all in reaction to the disaster in Raccoon Forest and because some killer was murdering his way through its ranks? Anyone who thought about the latter problem would've realized that the ordinary staff did not possess the confidential information about where high-ranking executives worked, and more importantly, lived. So questioning, and then executing, all those lower-ranked employees only caused more people to hate the WU members who were being hunted down, in addition to slowing down the work that had to be done in the research. This figurative method of using a sledge hammer to crack a walnut was an extremely impractical way of doing business. It was especially true when Umbrella was killing its own staff for no good reason when more employees than were available now were needed to meet such strict deadlines.

It was also partly due to newly-appointed vice-president Warren imposing those unrealistic deadlines for their research. From Warren's demands, it was obvious that Claymont's replacement had never worked in a lab, so she didn't possess any of the patience for trial-and-error procedures that the older man had. It was so unfair to have everyone here be stressed because this new vice-president was ignorant of the realities of their job, so much so that it would've been a relief to hear that Claymont's replacement was herself removed soon.

Besides, whoever this killer was, why wasn't he or she targeting Elena Warren? She was a very important executive decision maker in White Umbrella, and one of the very few members whose address was even found in the phone book. But doctor Birkin knew better than to figure out the solution to that mystery, not when she had so many more important responsibilities to worry about.

Regardless, though, what she had told Walter was true. Umbrella's enormously flawed system of hunting down some killer wasn't going to be transferred to her laboratories, and no one who lived and worked here was going to pay for a mistake with his or her life. These people were employees that she lived with for months, or even years, and their fear of losing their lives because of WU's paranoia was not going to come true.

She just hoped she could ensure that safety indefinitely.

Mrs Sylvia Chisholm tried hard to distract herself with the task at hand as she remained in the kitchen longer than she had to, the tray with five tall glasses of lemonade having been prepared a few minutes ago. Despite this, she still avoided returning to her living room, as she was becoming increasingly upset about the conversation taking place there.

Not that being in this kitchen was helping her mood. She could still hear her son and his best friend continuing their heated discussion with her husband, while her younger son quietly observed from a nearby couch, no longer paying attention to the television show he was previously watching. Still, though, she breathed heavily for several moments, wishing to come up with another idea to keep her away from the living room longer, and finally realized she could gather a box of store-brand gingerbread men into a bowl and serve it alongside the drinks.

The second task completed quicker than she would've preferred, she finally inhaled, put an uncomfortable smile on her face, and picked up the heavy tray before returning to the larger living room. It was all she could do to avoid demanding that her older son cease talking about the horrible murders that had been putting fear in the hearts of so many citizens for quite some time.

"Now, boy, I won't be hearing no more of this!", Mr Murphy Chisholm was seated on one of the couches and addressing officer Chisholm as his wife returned and placed the circular tray on the coffee table.

The young man's father next turned his attention to officer Donnelly nearby, even as their younger son quietly moved to pick up a glass of lemonade and two gingerbread men from the tray, and then returned to his previous position nearer the television.

"Eric, you tell this boy that he's wasting his time, will you?", Mr Chisholm continued, now talking to the older cop, and causing the rookie to roll his eyes.

"Really, Steven, it's obvious all this talk is scaring Roland here", Mrs Chisholm maintained her smile while casually sitting next to her husband.

The younger cop's eight year old brother squinted his eyes while his mouth was full of half a wet gingerbread man and moaned an unintelligible question to his mother, who nonverbally informed him that she would explain it later.

"Uh, sorry, pops, I'm with him on this one", the older cop shrugged with a degree of discomfort as he replied to his father figure, not wanting to risk alienating Mr Chisholm, but also having promised to support his partner, "You know, normally I'm the first one to knock him upside the head".

He achieved his intended chuckle from his friend's father, before continuing with the more serious debate that he knew he wanted to convince Mr Chisholm with.

"But this once, there's no doubt in my mind this is bad shit", Donnelly continued, causing a frustrated groan from the father while Chisholm's mother scowled at him for not minding his language, "I _know_ this will be inconvenient, but you can still take advantage of the seller's market that's around now, and just leave Raccoon City. Hell, leave this entire state, and you can restart elsewhere. I mean, I know it'll suck to have to start a new school for the little guy and all, but it's best for the long run, guys. I don't trust how safe this city is".

"But this is _ridiculous_!", the elderly husband protested, "What nonsense have they been filling your boys' heads with?".

"Dad! You're not listening!", the rookie cop shot back with a raised tone of voice, frustration getting to him when his partner wished it didn't.

Mr Chisholm gave his wife an annoyed stare, which was his indication that this conversation wasn't going in the direction he preferred. Following his nonverbal request, Mrs Chisholm stood up, proceeded towards where young Roland was, and picked up the boy before quietly taking him out of the living room. It was only after both mother and son were out of hearing range that her husband spoke up again.

"Now look here…", was all Mr Chisholm got to say while pointing his right index finger at both officers.

"Dad, it's dangerous here!", the younger man interrupted, almost shouting this time as he stood up, frustrated at not being listened to so far in the conversation.

"Keep your voice down, boy!", his father ordered, the first hint of anger appearing on the middle-aged man face, "What do you boys think you're doing talking about all this in front of Sylvia and Roland? You know how upset your mother gets!".

"Mr Chisholm, it's better than you all ending up dead", it was Donnelly's even voice that received both their attentions while the more experienced cop remained calmly seated on his usual cushion.

At least his intrusion prompted the youngest man to sit down and his father to relax a bit.

"Hasn't this been your home _all_ your life?", Mr Chisholm replied to them both, knowing that the answer was an affirmative one, "It's been ours too. How can you expect us to just up and leave our home just because some sickos were running around killing people? You _never_ give up on your homes that easily, boys. Besides, all the Police have been saying is that it's OK now and these murders aren't going to happen any more. I fail to see what the problem _is_ here, boys, especially one that's going to make me uproot my family and abandon home".

"But that's the thing, dad", the seated younger cop eagerly replied, "It's _not_ safe. Neither one of us believes the claptrap about the murders stopping. We're not expecting this stuff to stop. It'll probably get _worse_, in fact".

"Our department is saying one thing to the press while they're worried about things behind close doors, pops", Donnelly added, intentionally avoiding what Shakahnna Warren informed them about her experiences with Umbrella, "We're desperate to hire new cops because the department knows the shit is gonna be bigger than what we can handle. We got twenty guys hired in the last couple of weeks alone. Hell, we're so desperate that Chino's here _girlfriend_ got hired. What does _that_ tell you?".

From Murphy Chisholm's point of view, he suddenly thought he was understanding the reason for the two young men's confusion.

"So _that's_ what's been going on", the oldest man there finally uttered, "That idiot girl implanting stupid ideas into your head".

"Now, that's not true", Donnelly answered on his partner's behalf, the better to avoid having the rookie say something that was counter-productive to their objective of convincing this family to leave Raccoon City, "Well, that she's an idiot _is_ true, yeah, but she wasn't the one who gave either of us this idea, pops. What Chino's saying is true, that anyone who's in this city is in danger, and the department's starting to deny transfers out of the city as well, in addition to bringing more people in, all without telling anyone why".

"That's just a precaution and you know it!", Mr Chisholm sounded convinced as he countered with a friendly smile, "And you boys are surely over-reacting".

The older man stood up, satisfied that the debate was over, even though his two visitors weren't finished.

"Look, boys, I understand that you're worried, but you needn't be", he remembered as he guided them towards the dining room where his wife and younger son should've been, "I've seen much worse than all these nutcases in my time, whether they've been dealt with by your Police or not. When you've endured a war and lived to tell of it, you're not going to turn tail and run when a bunch of goons decide to kill people here and there before they're dealt with, now are you?".

Both officers grudgingly stood up, with the rookie about to speak again when his father placed a left hand on his back and pointed in the general direction of the hallway with his right.

"Now, come on", Murphy Chisholm continued, "We've wasted enough time on this nonsense, especially when we have a meal waiting".

The oldest of the three men then led the way to the dining room, eager to tell his wife that the discussion was finished, with the rookie gritting his teeth in frustration while Donnelly shrugged at his partner.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Uh, Shak, I'm not liking this!", Steven Chisholm complained as his knuckles squeezed together.

"Just a little bit longer", the redhead replied from behind him, "Come on! You'll get used to it!".

"Hey! HEY!", the cop tensed even further, "Not so high!".

"Wheeeeeeee!", was the only thing he heard as the teenager pushed him even further on the swing.

"Shak... Shak!...", his eyes grew wider as she wasn't listening, "SHAK!".

A final shove at his lower back meant that the swing he was seated on flew so high that he felt it was about to go in a full circle, though it stopped short of that mark and swung back in his girlfriend's direction.

"You can't be thinking this doesn't be fun!", the wide grin on her face countered the nervous one on his, pushing him as soon as the seat he was on was about to rush away from her again.

Unknown to her, the only thing he was glad about was that his colleagues at work couldn't see him now. It was hard enough to be taken seriously from anyone other than officer Donnelly as things were now, so one could only imagine what would happen if he was witnessed spending his vacation day at Raccoon City Park. But was this rush of air that reminded him of racing in a car with the windows down what the teenager promised him to be the most fun he could've had in years? He had been on this contraption for several minutes now, and all it did was give him a hoarse voice from all the screaming.

But then, there was a sudden stop from behind as the young woman grabbed a hold of the swing, which caused him to come to a stop that he was unprepared for. Before he had a chance to catch his breath, though, he felt his right hand being gripped by Shakahnna as she pulled him off the swing and was already dragging him in some unknown direction.

"Come on come on come on!", she excitedly declared on the way, "The chute the chute the chute!".

"How high is _that_?", he only had enough time to inquire before the couple reached their destination, prompting him to look up the forty-foot high ladder that led to the mouth of the straight slide that was a 45-degree downward angle.

"You don't mean we're gonna...", he was still trying to protest when the teenager prodded him from behind, forcing him to climb up the ladder.

"More climbing, less of your pish!", she commanded with a wide smile as she poked him further.

"But is this even _safe_?", he uttered while nearing the top of the ladder, knowing that such a question wouldn't deter her.

"How can it not be safe?", Shakahnna replied as she looked at the bottom of the slide, then back at him as he neared the top of the ladder, "It's a children's thingie".

It was the last statement she made before deciding he was taking too long, and for his sake, or so she told herself, she quickly pushed him off the top edge of the chute. The next sight was that of officer Chisholm screaming and waving his arms through the air as he slid towards the grass on the other end of the flat decline. His shrieks were loud enough to attract the attention of the small number of children who were nearby, not that he cared as he roughly landed on the ground and fought the urge to not roll as one would do when jumping out of a moving car.

Instead, the rookie cop intentionally stopped the planned stunt and awkwardly stood back up, just in time to hear the redhead barrelling down the chute after him. In contrast, the teenager landed on her feet, still sporting the largest grin on her face, as he partly caught her when she was on the ground.

"Again??", she eagerly asked while gripping his upper arms.

"Uh, no", he curtly answered, "What about that, uh, walk around the lake instead?".

"Later for that", the young woman disappointed him, "Climbing frame next!".

"What?", a confused Chisholm needed clarification.

"Jungle gym!", she corrected.

"But... But...", he rushed to find any excuse that would get him out of having to continue this playful mayhem, "What about the ducks in the lake? They need fed, you know".

There was a stop in her persistence to push him towards the nightmare that must've been the jungle gym, so the young man knew he was on to something and capitalised.

"Come on, let's go feed them", Chisholm nuzzled her, "They'll be able to take today off and not have to work for their food, for a change".

"I _did_ be's planning to feed them", she corrected while instinctively snuggling him back, "Just, _after_ the jungle gym. Had enough for six loaves of bread, see?".

She reached into one of her pockets to withdraw the change that was there for the arranged buy of bread, which her boyfriend countered with another argument.

"But the day's getting late", he was proud of his excuse, and hoping it was enough to work, "The sooner we feed them, the sooner they can stop working and relax for the rest of the day, right?".

A moment of silence as she was debating the issue in her head. On one hand, she definitely wanted to hang upside-down, and show Chisholm that it could be done, as he had insisted it couldn't. On the other hand, though, the cop was right that the ducks who lived on the lake could use a break from their daily routine of scavenging for food, and it'd be selfish to delay them that.

"OK, we should go feed the ducks", she soon decided, prompting him to smile in relief due to the insanity he avoided, and due to the fun he knew this would be.

--------------------

Dawn Weller sighed at she noticed a redheaded young woman being rambunctious on the circumference of the artificial lake. While Mrs Weller was watching her 7-year old son feed some of the dozens of ducks and seagulls, she had expected this afternoon to be peaceful, as most adults would be at work and most children at school. So it made sense for her to bring little Paul here after today's doctor's appointment, as opposed to dropping him off at school and insisting he finish the afternoon there. Besides, with her husband still at work till past dinnertime, the housewife had been in the mood to get some fresh air, which was a break in the monotony.

However, contrary to Mrs Weller's expectations, the lake was anything but tranquil today, as someone who should know better was acting up. While her son and the small handful of others were throwing bread or crackers for the animals to eat, and watching as the quickest duck or seagull claimed the prize, this loud female was tossing half a slice of bread into the water, each time aimed at a particular animal. And if the duck that she intended the food for wasn't quick enough and ended up having its food stolen by another animal, the redhead was screaming and rushing into the water in her effort to scare the other birds away.

It seemed that Mrs Weller wasn't the only person who thought the younger woman stood out, as the noisy person was accompanied by a man, who must've only been a few years older, who kept trying to convince her to act accordingly, all without avail.

"Students", the mother of the only child in her family sounded annoyed at the interruption to her nature scene as she then turned away from the near ruckus and paid closer attention to where Paul was, as she was here to do.

"I know what you mean", Mrs Rossi agreed with her annoyed tone of voice, approaching her neighbour from the other side, before turning her head to make sure her young daughter didn't stray too far.

"Annabelle!", the first woman greeted her with a smile, "This is a surprise! What brings you here?".

"Sarah woke up this morning feeling under the weather", her friend explained about the little girl who was squatted at the edge of the lake and unsuccessfully reaching out to invite the ducks to herself, "So I told her she could stay home. She was feeling bad till lunchtime, but she's been better after that".

"Oh, I'm glad to hear that", Mrs Weller nodded with another smile, looking at the little girl and waving a nonverbal greeting when Sarah looked up and waved back herself, "Paul wasn't himself recently either. I took him to Doctor Hursh for an appointment, but Hursh couldn't find anything wrong with him. Told him to just get some bedrest and he should feel better by tomorrow. Paul wanted to come here afterwards before we went back home, and since it's on our way home anyway…".

She turned her attention back to Paul as she finished talking.

"Sweetie! Don't go any further, OK?", she called out, prompting the child to look back at her, not agreeing to do so, but stopping his continued trek away from his mother as he kept throwing breadcrumbs into the water.

"So how's Don?", Mrs Rossi inquired as Sarah was finished trying to befriend birds and came running to her mother's side.

"Still working hard", Mrs Weller was happy to be able to tell the truth without sugarcoating it, "The Umbrella job is coming along very well. It's _such_ long hours, so we don't see him as much as we'd like. But Don's job made it so I can quit mine. And Paul's so active, even when he's not well, so he has so much more energy than other children".

"Oh, you're not at Blue Mountain any more? Since when?", Mrs Rossi stroked the back of her child's head as both women heard the redhead screaming in the distance as several birds flew away from her direction.

"Just last week", her friend explained, "Don's income is paying for everything, so we figured there wasn't any point in both of us being out of the house. This way, I got more time for the little guy there anyway. And Dario?".

"Ugh!", Mrs Rossi shook her head, indicating she wasn't currently as happy with her husband as Mrs Weller was with hers, "You went to school with him. You know what he's like".

"What's his latest, Anna?", her friend inquired, doing her best to appear interested due to realizing her neighbour wanted to rant about her husband, and she couldn't blame Mrs Rossi for it, as Dario could be very single-minded and selfish at times.

"Him and his fudging books!", Mrs Rossi eagerly took her invitation to speak, rubbing the back of Sarah's head harder, though being careful to not swear in front of her daughter, "Doesn't want to know about _my_ day, or about how Sarah's getting along. _All_ he talks about all day is this book, the book that he never got to write".

It was the last thing she said before the redhead in the distance was heard jogging back to the man she spent time with, getting both women's attention as she seemed to be holding something in her hands. Though without hearing every word the younger female uttered to her companion, both mothers could decipher that she had something alive between her fingers, and was trying to convince him that they should take it home with them.

"I think she found a duck she wants to take with her", Mrs Rossi smiled at the scenario after she and her friend turned her attention back to each other, amused at Mrs Weller's aggravation at the teenager's antics.

Neither individual got the chance to follow through with the discussion, as a flurry of shopping bags being rustled together and "You're not going to believe this!" repetitions interrupted them. Both neighbours recognized the voice even before seeing the face of the third person who was addressing them, as Francis Lindsey hurriedly joined the conversation and made the duo into a trio.

"Can you _believe_ they still haven't suspended those STARS officers?!", Mrs Lindsey interjected to both her neighbours, nonchalantly dropping her shopping bags by her feet so as to not miss the discussion.

"You must be joking!", Mrs Rossi replied as her own standard greeting.

"I know!", the third woman on the scene quickly added, "Jessica's out for blood! Her husband was one of the ones who, you know".

She nodded her head to the side to indicate she was talking about her associate's dead husband, as if the other women didn't already know of that man's death within the Umbrella mansion that was destroyed by the negligent STARS attack.

"I mean, she says she's looking at getting a lot of money for it", Mrs Lindsey followed through, excitedly holding her breath as she talked faster, "But I reckon it's to keep her quiet about this. But it's not going to work. No way. She says she's not going to rest until the STARS are prosecuted for murder".

"Amen to that", Mrs Weller continued, "But murder? Isn't that a bit harsh for something that was an accident?".

"Well, I don't like to think badly of anyone", the gossiping neighbour replied, "But, that Redfield boy has got a temper alright! Elran? You _know_ Elran! Sweet guy. Took Joe to the hospital that time he fell and broke his leg two years back, remember? Well, Redfield knocked him clean out!".

"_Really_?", an intrigued Annabelle Rossi thought out loud, clearly more fascinated by the conversation than Mrs Weller was, who simply nodded and turned back to check on Paul.

"And just between us", the RPD secretary continued, "The Chief turned down two resignation letters, and transfer requests out of Raccoon City are being ignored point blank!".

"_What_? Why would they _do_ that?", Rossi questioned, unsure who she meant the proverbial 'they' to be in the first place.

"I don't know", her clerical informant admitted, "But here's the thing. Even if their drug test had come back negative, which we don't know it did, the stuff they're talking about, those STARS are obviously not stable".

"I heard in the paper that the murderer from the forest was still at it", Mrs Weller interjected, giving her own opinion on these latest events, "I read just recently that this body was found in Cedar Ward Marble River Shore, was it? Though I'm not sure if it was a recent thing or if it was old".

"Oh, I know about that!", Mrs Lindsey proudly answered, "They think it was an old murder, not a new one. Besides, only a torso was found, and they think it was done around May, not anytime recent".

The grim statement she described caused the other two women to shake their head in disapproval at the violence that existed, even if the Police Department secretary was delivering the news in an excited fashion.

"So what do you think about the monsters?", Mrs Rossi leaned towards her two friends and whispered in a lower tone, aiming the question more so towards the administrative member, "Newspaper said that _monsters_ were said to be spotted there?".

"Oh, Annabelle, that's ridiculous", Mrs Weller replied first by waving her hand, but the subject made her nervous enough to turn around and check on her son's location, "Sometimes I think you would believe _anything_".

"Well, I _heard_ that maybe some animals got loose from the zoo", Mrs Lindsey added her own view, "At least that's the theory around the RPD, that some carnivores got out of the zoo and are prowling the Arklay mountains. Just that they're too embarrassed to make that public".

"Probably just wolves or something", Paul's mother added with a fake smile this time, all this talk of the cause behind so many gruesome deaths not helping her relax, "That explains why those hikers disappeared in those mountains, as well as that torso from May. Makes more sense than some mythic monsters killing people, anyway".

"Or maybe that torso they found was one of the hikers!", Mrs Lindsey added, enjoying this discussion more than her neighbours, and causing the other mothers to groan internally, "It'd make sense, since the roads leading to Arklay are still blocked".

"Jesus, who knows _what's_ really going on up there?", Mrs Weller continued by massaging her own eyes, eager to change the subject, which her friend didn't seem interested in, "Since when do wolves act so aggressively towards _people_?".

"But imagine if it was a monster up in those mountains?", Mrs Lindsey giggled as she refused to do so, "Where would it be living that those hikers came across it? Does it live in a cave, in a lake? _Where_?".

"Francis, that's ridiculous!", Mrs Weller chastised her, anxiety creeping in her voice for the first time as the smile disappeared off her friend's face at the tone used, "You two need to stop watching horror movies where things come out of the lake to kill people. Or if you do, at least know that it's not real".

No sooner did she finish talking that she heard her son screaming and splashing in the water several yards behind the trio. Terrified, Mrs Weller spun around, about to rush in the boy's direction.

The sight that greeted her, however, was that of Paul as he was drenched from the lake, due to having gone several feet past its shore, till the water level was up to his knees. In the boy's hands, he firmly gripped a duck that was trying to escape the grasp of his fingers, causing Paul to splash further in his effort to keep the bird in place. Turning around, Paul giggled and began walking back to his mother, the duck still in his grip.

"Young man! What are you doing?", his mother raised her voice as he came closer to the shore, "Put that animal down _this_ _instant_!".

"But mom!", Paul protested as he came closer still, "I wanna take it home!".

"We're not taking any of them home", Mrs Weller calmed considerably once her son reached their position, "You can see them whenever you want, but the ducks stay _here_. They're happier here in their _own_ home than with us anyway".

"But that's what _they're_ doing", her child countered, roughly pointing in the direction of the redhead who had been making so much noise earlier.

Mrs Weller sighed in annoyance when she saw that he wasn't lying, as the younger woman had finished feeding the birds, and was busy taking one of the ducks with her as she and her boyfriend left the area.

"Oh, for the love of…", the mother stopped herself as she turned her attention back to her son, "Young man, if they drove off a cliff, would you do the same?".

Paul didn't answer, only looked at the couple who were leaving off in the distance, then at his duck, then up to his mother.

"The answer is 'no'", Mrs Weller continued, "So you leave that duck here and you can come back and feed him again this weekend if you want. _You_ wouldn't like it if someone took you away from your dad and me, would you?".

"Um, no", Paul admitted, being honest despite disliking the direction this conversation took.

"Then you should put him back so he can be with _his_ family", his mother ordered, happy when her son looked back at the lake that he acquired the animal from, and a few seconds later complied.

With the duck calmly swimming back to the deeper section of the lake, she took his hand as Mrs Lindsey petted the boy's head.

"Dusty's _exactly_ the same", his mother's friend smiled, first informing him and then the other two women there, "Speaking of which, school's out soon, so I best be off to pick them up".

She gave her goodbyes and left the group, unaware of the unpleasant taste she had provided her two friends with, as images of whatever had killed so many people in Raccoon City still lingered in their mind.


	55. Chapter 45 Divorce Settlement

AN/_ Expect allot of updates over the next few weeks. I've got about a hundred pages or so to upload which will hopefully encourage me to actually get more writing done. Thank you to everyone as always for your continued support. _

-

Former RPD captain Albert Wesker skulked through the darkened streets of Raccoon City, intentionally taking the long way to his destination at 2AM. He was dressed in complete black, the colour covering him from the boots up to the turtleneck, along with black gloves on his hands and a similarly-dark mask hiding his face.

Knowing that he had to avoid being seen, especially by the occasional patrol car that drove by, he made sure to not walk under, or even next to, the well-lit streets and sidewalks. He thus depended on the unlit areas, those providing a sanctuary of shadows when he used backyards, parks, empty lots, and the like to make the long way to his destination.

The camouflaged man was initially glad at the ease with which he evaded the attention of patrols done by his former RPD subordinates. However, halfway through his journey, it occurred to him that the car and foot patrols by the Police Department hadn't increased at all since that fateful night he flew to the Umbrella mansion.

Wesker fought the urge to criticise the department that clearly had not listened to his advice to saturate the city with patrols in an effort to prevent further murders by the zombies that were threatening the mid-sized metropolis. Doing so would've been a waste of time, of course, and the former Umbrella agent had too many important tasks to accomplish for that.

It was several more minutes of travelling, in the process dodging another standard patrol car, and several drunks who were loitering outside the Blackjack bar, that he reached his target outside uptown Raccoon City. Stealthily entering Fox Street, he made his way to the house that was numbered 42, keeping himself pressed against the walls, and finally reached that objective.

First, he was lucky enough to find that the first-floor house had a window that wasn't fully covered via curtains from the inside. So Wesker glanced through the gap that was only a few centimetres wide, easily being able to see the darkened bedroom on the other side. As expected, he could tell the difference in the details there as easily as one who was wearing night vision goggles, which was the main reason why the former captain hadn't a need for any special equipment since the mission in the forest anyway.

Second, he had to make sure that the occupant of that rented house was still agent Chris Redfield, and that the young man hadn't moved away like officers Vickers and Aitken before him. He was glad to see that the marksman was the person who was asleep in the bed, though Wesker was surprised that Redfield wasn't alone, as he identified agent Valentine who was sleeping next to him.

So Redfield and Valentine were now a couple. A small part of the former captain's mind curiously wondered if they had been together before he led them into the Umbrella mansion, but such factors weren't important now. However, it would've been grossly inappropriate if they had been a couple while following him on the same mission, as doing so could've caused a distraction.

Wesker, nonetheless, made his own mind that such matters were trivial and best ignored, as Redfield and Valentine possibly lying about their relationship surely wasn't as big a problem to the RPD as him not informing anyone that he was an Umbrella spy all that time.

With the confirmation that this house was the correct one, he then took the greatest care in proceeding to the front door and quietly placing three separate documents through the mail-slot. With each of the three folders being about 50 pages long, and full of details about Umbrella's work, it was important that the STARS members knew those contents if they wished to even begin a battle against the corporation.

So with each document having landed on the carpeted floor on the other side of the door with a soft thud, the agent in black then hastily left that area, just in case one of the two STARS officers woke up from the sound.

He was glad this small mission was over, just as he was that Redfield and Valentine were still alive, in addition to not giving up their pursuit of his former employer. But for now, he had more things to do, so he made his way back to the cabin in the forest as quickly and quietly as possible.

--

It was half an hour of avoiding further lights and jumping on dark rooftops that former captain Wesker got to enter through the front door of his cabin.

The first detail he noticed was that there were two candles on, even though whoever was already there didn't bother turning on the generator-powered lights, as was the careful thing to do so as to avoid being seen from a distance. Already guessing the identity of his visitor, he proceeded inside while hearing soft snoring noises emanating from the living room.

Not surprisingly, the sight of the slumbering redhead greeted him as she was lying on her side on the largest sofa there, using several other cushions to partially cover herself. With both her hands turned into fists, and one of them underneath her face, with the second one gripping the first wrist, she didn't hear him entering the dwelling and closing the door behind himself.

Now that he was within the enclosed cabin, he could hear her snoring even louder, before she opened her mouth while sleeping and drool dripped out of it.

Wesker reasoned that she must've come here immediately after her shift at work, as she was still dressed in the RPD uniform, and finding him not there, she laid down to wait for him. Regardless, though, the urgency of what he needed to do, and his lack of need for rest for a few more days, prompted him to wake her up now. So he withdrew the mask off his face and nonchalantly let it fall on the nearest couch, and then gently shook the young woman's arm with his right hand. The result was that Shakahnna wrapped both arms around his right wrist, uttering "No, Chino, too tired. Just five minutes".

Achieving a moment of understanding of her boyfriend's life, Wesker felt some sympathy for officer Chisholm, as he was sure that the rookie cop was going through the same experience every time he tried to wake her up. So he decided to be as patient as possible, letting her sleep if she so needed.

Thus, Wesker sat down on the other side of the living room, waiting for the young woman to wake up. Going through with his previous plan of acquiring his rifle with the sniper scope would have to wait, as would dealing with a member of Umbrella who couldn't be approached without making his presence known. After all, the teenager wouldn't have come here if she didn't have a good reason, and it's not as if he was unhappy to see her. Quite the opposite, in fact, as he enjoyed her company.

It was just that he had other plans for now. Important plans, in fact. And the longer he waited, the more Mr Joel Kirkcope got to live, continuing to be Umbrella's head financial analyst, doing work for that company and never being away from two bodyguards at all times. Not that Wesker would've had a difficult time incapacitating two personal sentinels, of course. But he had found no proof that either guard knew of Umbrella's true work, and there was too much of a chance that one of them would describe his appearance to Kirkcope's employer. Thus, the financial analyst had to be dealt with from a distant at his job tonight, as was Wesker's intention before the sun rose.

So with those plans on hold for now, all he had to do was sit back and wait for his friend to wake up, and look forward to the antics she would delight him with once she was awake.

Except, she wasn't awake now.

And why was he feeling impatient for the first time since he originally learned that there were scores of high-ranking Umbrella executives whose address he knew, and all of whom he wanted to kill on the first day?

Wesker folded his arms, then unfolded them. He then folded and unfolded his legs. He then adjusted his new sunglasses. He then smoothed out his hair.

Finally, he shifted to another seated position while looking at his wristwatch, and realized that exactly two minutes had passed.

That was close enough to the five minutes she had asked for.

So this time, he walked to her again, and picked her up by her clothes with one hand, easily levitating her a few feet over the sofa, till she groggily woke up. Once he saw that her eyes were indeed open, Wesker let her land back on the couch, but the dazed state Shakahnna was in caused her to be unbalanced and she fell onto the floor.

The loud thud was followed by a scream from her as she instinctively kicked him in the shin, and then scowled up at him upon realising what happened.

"Pardon me, miss Warren", he started with a standard greeting as she rubbed her eyes and moved herself back to a seated position on the couch.

"Hewwo", she yawned once, "Surely, there be's be'd a better way of doing that".

"I _do_ apologize, but I was in a hurry with plans for tonight", he admitted, annoying her with his lack of joy to be seeing her, like he should have been.

"Do you want me to go?", the redhead flatly inquired, not bothering to go through the normal process of playing with words or using a specific voice to get what she wanted, not when she was this tired, "Chino's asleep at home anyway".

"Depends on your ability to wait approximately thirty minutes", the former captain informed her as he was already in the process of arming the sniper rifle, "If so, everything else for tonight _could_ be procrastinated till another time".

"Sure", the new cop let him know, "But one question before you be's going, Weskie".

"Yes?", he adjusted the scope on his weapon and stopped moving while facing her direction so she could ask.

"Raccoon City authorities suspect they are dealing with a serial killer", she told him what he should've already known, "Unlike Umbrella fatcats, these victims aren't buried by Umbrella, and unlike the zombie killings, they're not gruesome and random. We apparently have a serial killer who has a taste for medical doctors. That makes, what, fourteen doctors dead in the last week. Would that happen to be _you_, Weskie?".

"Yes, but I'll explain more when I get back", he gave one of the grins that he only seemed to come up with when recalling one of his acts of revenge against his previous employer.

Shakahnna only groaned and felt a stressed cramp in her stomach as she laid horizontally on the couch, knowing this would be one of those interesting conversations in about half an hour where she wouldn't like anything she heard.

--

"Sooo keeping a low profile then. That went well.Did it be too boring Weskie, and it's why you're trying so hard to get on the news now?", an annoyed Shakahnna asked her companion later on that night, finding them both sitting on opposite ends of the living room, with several candles and the rising sun illuminating the area.

The fact that she hadn't napped long during his absence and was still physically tired didn't help her feel better, as was evident by the bags under her eyes, her dishevelled hair that was partly out of its ponytail, and tie that was loose around her collar. However, she had already insisted that she wasn't procrastinating this conversation in favour of several hours of sleep, as the man in the sunglasses had suggested. Besides, she suspected the offer was done partly due to him still not being tired and looking forward to working further towards his macabre goal while she was passed out to the world. And there was no reason why he should get what he wanted.

"I don't know what you mean, miss Warren", that usually charming grin made her growl this time around, "Mr Kirkcope's demise will be hidden by Umbrella. I doubt the populace will even be informed of his passing".

"You _know_ that's not what I'm talking about!", she snapped back, "How many doctors has it been in the last week? A dozen?".

"That would be fourteen medical practitioners, and in the last nine days", he corrected, much too proud of his accomplishments.

"People are starting to be afraid again because of you!", she let him know, "In fact, the zombie killings aren't the talk of the town any more, since people are worried they have a serial killer roaming the city who hates doctors".

"It couldn't be helped, miss Warren", at least he stopped smiling, finally appearing to not enjoy something she said, "Umbrella's remaining high-ranking executives have been moved to other living and working locations. I suppose the vermin finally understood that it couldn't protect its precious own after a while. But regardless, my problem is unchanged, as I don't know their current whereabouts any more. That had to change my objective, moving it lower down the food-chain, if you will. But I assure you that every medical professional disposed of has been confirmed to take part in human experiments, but more so as freelance employees of Umbrella who contribute towards it part-time. It turns out the Hippocratic Oath isn't all that relevant when one is working for Umbrella, as wasn't the Social Contract".

The redhead bit on her tongue to keep from rolling her eyes at the mention of the last two words.

"So eight doctors executed in the parking lot of their hospital or office, two more killed in their home, and four more killed in restaurants", she recalled from the newspapers headlines, "Personally, Weskie, I don't think doctor Develle's and Ropowski's families appreciated them going to the bathroom and not coming back out because they had their necks snapped in the toilet".

The older man actually laughed out loud at the last recollection, which prompted her to put her hand in her pockets, feeling as if she was more close to tears than laughter due to the way the older man was taking part in his hobbies.

"I must admit, miss Warren, that while rewarding, I have more fond memories of the other two doctors who were, um, confronted in their restaurants' parking lot", that constant smile had returned to his face as he recalled.

"You mean waiting till the valet brings his car around, till he's behind the wheel, and then fatally punching him through the window on both occasions?", the rookie cop clarified.

"Those would be the ones, yes", the former captain was glad to confirm, "I see the press is doing a good job of sharing my tactics with its readers".

"It's not, Weskie", a frustrated teenager told him, "Only reason I know that is because I was one of the people who carried that last body out of the car and into the ambulance, but minus the upper half of his head".

The smile finally vanished off his face.

"Really, miss Warren, what you would _have_ me do in this situation?", he intentionally stopped, waiting for her to give him a better option than the murder spree he was following.

"It's not just the murders that be's the problem", she mentioned after several seconds of silence, "It's your glee at bathing your hands in all that blood".

"So you cannot think of a better option", the former captain calmly pointed out, "And all this protest is…".

"Since when did not being able to come up with a better alternative mean that I approve of what you're doing?!", she interrupted, "Hell has no fury like a woman scorned".

He sighed once.

"That is a meaningless statement in general, especially as it makes no sense in this particular discussion", his flat demeanour countered yet again.

"You're acting like Umbrella's ex-wife!", she snapped, and she could see that he rolled his eyes even from behind the shades, "Except that you have a gun".

"Your colourful descriptions notwithstanding, it's noteworthy that you _still_ don't have a better idea than what I should be doing now!", his tone of voice rose by a slight pitch, the first indication that he was annoyed at the continuity of this argument, "Oddly enough, if you believed that doing nothing would be better than my current path, you would've easily said so now. Yet, you remain quiet on that issue".

No response from the teenager at first, the rookie cop only staring back at him with an irritated expression.

"If I told you to do nothing, would you do it?", she finally blurted out, causing that smile to return to his face, if only for an instant.

"No, because you _don't_ believe that's a better option", Wesker countered, "Not accepting my course of action does not mean that swinging 180 is any kind of a solution".

Another uncomfortable silence.

"Unless, of course, you wish for me to follow procedure", he actually scoffed at his own remark, which may have been the first time Shakahnna heard him doing so, "Maybe arresting one executive or doctor at a time, while twenty others use the knowledge of my movements to go into hiding, and then bringing him in front of a magistrate in this city, and hoping that the judge on the bench isn't in bed with Umbrella and won't drop all charges on a technicality that he himself found".

"What about just a good beating?", she sighed, knowing she had nothing else to mention on the topic, "Just cripple them or something".

At least that led to him laughing again.

"Miss Warren, if you're missing both rest and time with Chisholm so you can talk to me about my tactics, I'm afraid you're wasting your time", the former agent flatly stated, "It should be noted that _every_ one of those fourteen had a habit of selling live bodies to Umbrella. Apparently doctors' salaries weren't enough for their bank account. I know because I came across their contact information after I rummaged through this place since your discovery of the Unetchloride. Since you left, I've been searching through this cabin, in case my, other half, left anything else here".

"And…?", she was less critical and more curious now.

"My hearing had improved enough to find a hollow spot in the floor where a safe was located", he informed her, "It would've usually been the kind of container where one would need either a combination or explosives to get through, but I'm happy to say that a pull of the door made it happen for me. And I was able to shrug off the release of nerve gas after breaking into it also. So what would be so precious to protect, other than his contacts? Such as one of them who sold HIM a certain Mr Rodriguez".

"Who?", the redhead asked.

"Long story", he mentioned while reaching for a spot that was near his couch, "_And_ these. Do they _mean_ anything?".

Shakahnna gasped without realising it when he handed a silk container that she hadn't seen since her nightmare days in the Umbrella labs. Just the sight of that bag made it so her small headache intensified several times worse, since it was the container of runes that her kidnapper had used to immobilise her.

Initially, the young woman was torn between wanting to examine those horrible items and tossing them away to never lay eyes on them again. But after several seconds, and several stares into Wesker's direction to confirm that his tense body language confirmed that he was still the former Police captain, she decided to examine those items further. If nothing else, they could offer a study of what made her who she was, so the opportunity to find out should not have been missed if possible.

First, the teenager accepted the bag, even as she brought one of the lit candles closer to her. Then, reaching within the container and withdrawing one of the runes, she placed the item into the flame itself, and wasn't surprised that it wouldn't show any damage from the fire. Still, it didn't keep her from feeling a sickened sensation in the pit of her stomach, probably due to her memories of them.

"Here", she gently tossed the rune in his direction before he caught it, "Try to crush it".

"If you're sure", Wesker replied as he began squeezing the bone fragment between his right thumb and index finger, expecting to feel it crumble right away.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes with curiosity when the shape of the fragment didn't change at all, even when he began applying more force after a few seconds.

Looking back at the young woman, the former Umbrella spy placed the rune between both his hands, using two sets of thumbs and index fingers to apply as much strength as was possible from his seated position. But seeing that the object still showed no sign of being damaged, he then examined it for an instant by lowering the sunglasses, and still found nothing unusual about it, except that it had proven to be tougher than steel or stone.

"Would you care to explain what this is?", he threw it back at her.

"It's magic", she simply let him know, and saw that he was about to criticise her for such an explanation as he returned the sunglasses to their usual place, "No, really. It's magic".

"You mean the kind that makes you who you are?", he reasoned.

"Well, you see, the shadow guy indicated that everyone where I'm from, where apparently shadows are allowed to be people, because apparently that's all OK", she began explaining, "Everyone's like I am. Which means conventional weapons don't work there".

"And where is this?", he arched his eyebrows.

"I don't know. What countries allows shadows to be people?", she didn't mean for her answer to be sarcastic, which was good that he didn't take it as such.

She picked up the bag while placing the rune that couldn't be burned or broken back inside it.

"But these do bad, bad things", she remembered distastefully, "But I don't know how to use them".

"Does _he_?", it didn't take much thought to know that he meant the other personality.

"Oh, yes!", Shakahnna nodded as she noticed that sunlight was illuminating the room further, "He had a fucking field day".

The teenager spilled the bag's contents on the cushion next to her, casually looking through the runes, and disappointed that none of them sparked a memory in her mind.

"They have names, but I don't know what those are", she admitted after a few moments, "I don't know if they're meant _for_ me or for use _on_ me. So your friend and the shadow guy may the only ones who know how to use them, and I don't know where the shadow guy went".

"Well, in another time and another place, I would've mentioned that I'll put the best resources from Umbrella on the task of researching them", Wesker shrugged, "But I'm afraid that option is no longer here".

"I think it'd be best for all concerned", she collected the runes back into the bag, "And by all concerned, I mean me, if I kept them".

"Of course", he nodded.

"Give me your hand", Shakahnna surprised the older by extending her hands towards him, "You're in the same body as him. It's worth a shot".

As he did, she dropped some of the runes in his open palm, and covered them with both her hands, and then breathed in and out when nothing happened.

"Think of fire", she suggested next, to which he closed his eyes so as to imagine such.

In response to the new stimulus, the runes in their hands began to glow, but then ceased doing so as soon as she gasped at their change, and Wesker opened his eyes as a result of her reaction.

"Definitely something here to play with", she thought out loud with a yawn as she collected every item back into their silk container, "But am gonna love you and leave you, Weskie. Chino should be waking up any time now, and him and Alfonso Hindley Brady will be wondering where I am".

"Of course", he agreed as he stood up and stretched, "And who's this?".

"Alfonso Hindley Brady, Weskie", she stood up in her own turn and gave a wide smile, "That be's the newest member of the family, acquired from Raccoon park".

"Miss Warren, what have you done?", he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Just this duck that _obviously_ wanted to come home with us!", Shakahnna quickly explained, "And he's been living in the bathtub since then. At first he didn't like it, but then he started being fed bread with jam, especially if there's a bit of butter on it, and he just rolls over now and lets you pet his stomach whenever you feed him".

The grin grew even wider as she recalled her pet.

"Uh, right", he lowered the sunglasses towards his nose and rubbed his eyes, "Well, give my regards, or should that be my sympathies, to Chisholm".

"You should see it", Shakahnna kept smiling, "He pecks at Chino, and Donnelly!".

"I very much suspect I should not, miss Warren", he mentioned as he withdrew his .50 calibre Desert Eagle from where she did not see, "But you should get home and get some rest, while I continue my training".

"Who's the target now?", the redhead stopped smiling as she headed towards the exit door.

"No one you need to worry about", the taller man petted her on the head as he followed her out.

Once outside, she enjoyed the scent of a cool morning as he visually surveyed the area around him.

"You should at least clean up your own corpses this time, because if I have to do it again, I'm coming back here and kicking you in", she gave a comical warning.

"I'll keep that in mind", he nodded again, "Will you find your way back home without trouble?".

"Yeah, definitely", the rookie cop told him, already looking forward to the warm bed she could share with her boyfriend once she got to their apartment.

"In that case, see you when you return here", he uttered next.

"Yeah, I'm not sure when that will be, but you'll find a way to keep yourself entertained", she heard a whoosh of air behind herself as she finished talking.

Turning around, she saw that he was already gone, having jumped vertically through the air, and probably over the tops of the nearby trees. All that impatience to get to his next target before his victim got to enjoy one last breakfast.

"Show-off", she uttered before making her way back to the city.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The dream was eerily familiar, as if it was a long-lost memory of a place that had been visited before, though only done so centuries ago. In a large, rectangular holding cell, the night environment outside would've made the entire place be enveloped in darkness due to the lack of artificial lights, if not for the sickly green glow from the rune stones.

Walking further into the area, past the only entrance and exit door, the numerous holding cells that were available on the right made it apparent that the green illumination was not an intentional source of light. Not surprisingly, it was made obvious that the eight rune stones in each holding cell were there to ensure that the small room's possible inhabitants didn't get out. As such, a glowing stone was placed in each of the four corners on the floor, as well as one kept secured to each of the four corners of the ceiling.

Without knowing how, there was an understanding that these secure areas were designed to restrain against both magical and standard efforts. The eight rune stones were meant to keep the cell's prisoner from using magical abilities to escape. In addition to the enchanted restraints, the regular metal bars that separated each cell from the others were meant to prevent non-magical humans from helping the prisoner escape if they ever found this place.

Lastly, while each small room was lavishly decorated and furnished, with a hand-carved bed that had drapes surrounding it, and several heavy blankets everywhere due to a lack of central heating, there was no question that such comfortable luxuries were only artificial. Beneath the surface, there was a repulsive air in the environment, as if an unnatural and dark magic was clearly practiced in this rotting building.

Dream logic was often beyond an explanation, but the feeling was understandable nonetheless. It wasn't the time to wonder how such an innate knowledge was obtained, especially as there were distractions here and now.

That was because while most of the holding cells were empty, a single one contained one prisoner, who was a young woman with pale skin and jet black hair. Her dress was expressive of a style that was in fashion centuries ago, with fitted bodice and a hoop skirt with several layers of petticoat underneath. The ornate outfit seemed to be exceptionally heavy, as the number of jewels within it weighed down the wearer, even if it was only done so to portray the status the person carried within her society.

At the current time, her left wrist was badly slashed, and it bled profusely while that arm hung limply by her side, staining the left side of her skirt before red dripped on the carpeted floor. With some of her strength drained from that wound, the aristocratic Lady supported herself against the right palm that was leaning on the wall.

Due to the pain and disorientation, she didn't hear the chanting that emanated from outside her locked cell, as two creatures clad in a dark purple robe which hid all their features paid attention to her status. Several inches in front of her two watchers floated a metal tray that had six indentations within it, its contents being regarded with diligence by the guards also.

The two spectators kept their bodies and faces still, their palms flattened against each other as if in prayer, though they constantly watched their detainee, and then switched their attention to the large, flat plate itself. As the compartments on the tray were full of the prisoner's blood, after she had previously been cut open and had her wrist held over all six of them to collect the fluid within it, the chanting slowly caused that collection of crimson to be changed.

Soon, the blood became more dense, and the harder substance shrank until it turned into a circular form that was only an inch in diameter. Finally, the six indentations no longer had liquid within them, but instead contained a circular-shaped jewel, each piece of newly-fabricated glass reflecting the dim green light from the detention areas.

Their short-term task completed, the two shadow priests in the purple robes each took three of the jewels from the floating tray, and themselves hovered towards the cell that contained their prisoner. The cell's barred, metal door opened at their command without needing to be touched, and both priests calmly glided inside.

At seeing them there, the woman pushed herself away from the wall that she was leaning against and began drawing a symbol in the air between herself and them with her right index finger. Before she was finished, however, the first shadow priest gripped her right wrist and slapped one of the circular pieces of jewellery on the back of that hand, having it attached to her skin on contact. The result was that she pulled her arm out of his grasp and continued gesturing the strange symbol as before, except that her right arm now drooped by her side, as useless as her injured left one was.

The mixture of the previous pain and confusion only being made worse by the sudden ineffectiveness of her right arm, the young woman swayed for a moment, before she was caught by the two guardians. Both priests worked quickly to place the other five gemstones on the back of her bloodied left hand, her forehead, just below her neck and on the outside of her ankles. That caused her to become more agitated, as she staggered through the small cell, crashing first against a wall, and then against the side of the decorated bed, while she moaned and tried to pull the jewels off herself, but to no avail.

With their task finished, the two shadow priests exited the room, though they left the celldoor open behind them. Contrary to escaping through the unlocked metal barrier, though, the completely exhausted captive merely slumped against one of the stone walls of the cell, slowly sinking towards a seated position on the floor.

No rest was allowed, however. Two other beings marched into the room, these individuals having to walk on the floor, their heavy steps echoing as each person was twice her size and clad in armour, carrying a spear while their face was covered in a metal mask resembling a wolf's head. Without saying a word, the two new guards retained a grip on their spear and used their free hand to grasp each of her arms, and easily picked her up from her slumped position.

Holding on to her upper arms, the masked watchers lifted the young woman off the floor while her legs and head hung in a limp fashion, and marched out of the holding cell. While still conscious, she had no energy except to remain awake while not knowing where she was taken.

--

The young woman was unceremoniously thrown towards the stone floor, landing with a muffled scream as she came to a painful stop. She heard her two guards walking away behind her even as she first caught her breath, the cold stone below greeting her face as she breathed in and out.

Eventually, she struggled to rise on her hands and knees, drops of blood still dripping below her left arm as she did, and heard that a door was closed elsewhere in this new environment.

Finally being able to get on her feet, the captive turned around, careful to remain upright as she still felt very light-headed, first from her earlier injuries, and then the effect of the jewels which only exacerbated her weakened state. She then stopped when she noticed that whatever door her watchers had used to exit this place was now gone, as she now found herself in an enclosed stone temple that had no way to enter or exit it.

At least her sentries were gone, so she breathed out a sigh of relief. And as long as she was alone, she could work on a way to get out of this problem, starting on the removal of those damnable gemstones which kept her from casting spells.

So the former captive began to look around this place, doing her best to stay calm while pain and fatigue threatened to render her unconscious. For starters, she noticed that this place was lit by dozens of red candles, which was a welcome change of light, especially in comparison to the prison where only those ugly, restraining green runes shone everywhere. There were also some pretty-looking stained glass, made in the image of a fork-tongued dragon, though no light was shining from outside them, indicating that it was still night-time.

She told herself that she could try to break the glass later, assuming she didn't find any other way out of here first. So her search for clues led the young woman to the altar in the middle of this temple, and she brushed the dust off its surface, indicating she was the first person who'd been here in quite some time. She recognized the symbols on its surface, but she initially couldn't understand what they truly meant.

Until suddenly, her facial expression froze in a panic when she understood what the altar was and what purpose it was used for. The drowsy female carefully backed away from it, keeping her eyes on its exterior as she did, until her back met the farthest end of the temple.

She tried to cast a spell again, gesturing a particular symbol in the air with her right index finger, and while the sign she intended to make appeared for an instant in front of her, it then vanished. Out of desperation, she copied the movement with her injured left hand, but received the same result.

Unknown to her, the dreamer could see that the woman's movements were being watched via a yet-mysterious source by three individuals who were outside the temple. Those were the two shadow priests who were stationed behind and on either side of an Asian man who was dressed in a red ceremonial uniform. With his two custody guards having been sent on their way, the individual in charge crossed his arms behind his lower back, clasping his own left wrist as he clearly didn't expect to keep waiting for long.

The Asian man now approached the young woman while his two underlings stood her up, and he tried to pull an unseen object out of her face and torso, and seemed increasingly frustrated when nothing happened. Irate, he swore in an unknown language and then addressed his two followers, who then used green light to carry her without having to touch her.

Following the antagonist and his two men as they used their magical ability to transport their insensate cargo, the dreamer watched the dark, purple sky as patches of fog blocked part of the background. Passing the decrepit buildings that stood out of the skyline, the only one that appeared within a walking distance was a small dwelling that was a short distance away.

Coming closer, a courtyard filled with green liquid and four surrounding statues was soon made visible as the trio came closer to it, but they ignored what was obviously a normal sight for them as they proceeded inward.

The nightmare scenario concluded with the dreamer finally seeing something that caused an involuntary gasp, as rows of thousands of clear glass containers were lined up in giant clusters. Inside each glass case was the frozen body of a person, each of them being young and female, much like the human freight that was brought here, to be forever held in stasis.

--

Shakahnna Warren woke up with a gasp before she realized she was sleeping face-down on the bed that she shared with Chisholm.

--

Elsewhere in Raccoon City, Albert Wesker woke up in his cabin with cold sweat running down his face. His first reaction was to reach past the Desert Eagle that was under his pillow, and he wrapped his fingers around the wristwatch. Lifting the small piece of equipment and lighting it, he realized it was almost 4AM, so he had been asleep for an hour before this mysterious dream had roused him.

--

The redheaded teenager considered indulging in the melodramatic measurement unit that she had come to label as the goth-o-meter. While making sure to not wake Chisholm, she carefully came to a seated position on the bed and wondered what that vivid dream meant.

Was it her own background? But if so, she did not recognize the woman who was first rendered insensate and then imprisoned, though the aura she received from the leader of the pack who caused the imprisonment clearly left a bad taste in her mouth. There was something wholly abnormal about that Asian man, as if he invoked the displeasure of Nature itself by his actions.

Just what had he tried to take from her, which caused him to be extremely annoyed at failing? But for an unknown reason, Shakahnna was so glad at his lack of success, as that man being happy at his achievement could've only meant a new dreadful consequence had befallen others.

The young woman rubbed her face with both hands, telling herself to not think too much about this dream. After all, she had nightmares like this before, and ones that were much scarier, in fact. So maybe she shouldn't worry too much about the consequences of this particular dream, not this early in the morning, and definitely not when she needed her rest before the start of another long day at work in a few, short hours.

She quietly laid back down on the bed, intentionally closing her eyes and hoping she'd be able to get some sleep, as she could see hints of daylight beginning to form in the sky even now.

And under the cold, hard light of day, things were always different.

--

Wesker sighed in annoyance as he wondered how many of his other half's crimes he was going to have to atone for.

The vision he saw in his sleep must've been the actions of the sadist who lived in his body, back when that man was collecting humans and other creatures. It could not have been anything else, as Wesker knew that he rarely dreamt.

But who was that Asian man who was so prominent in the nightmare?

Wesker rubbed his forehead, hoping it would help him remember. Unfortunately, he wasn't surprised that the action had no positive effect, as he was still having a difficult time in recalling any of the memories that the other personality had.

Maybe the mysterious man in charge was his other half's second in command, or an ally in equal terms from elsewhere in the world.

Whatever the reason, the former RPD captain quickly decided to try to track that Asian individual down, reasoning that finding him would lead to further discoveries about his actions in Umbrella at least, or lead to him taking down a dangerous predator at most.

He fought the temptation to look at his watch a second time, knowing that the time on it wouldn't have changed, so he grudgingly acknowledged that his rest had been interrupted, probably for the rest of the day. As fascinated as Wesker was by the influx of new information, though, he couldn't help but be annoyed at the fact that it kept him from reaching the full respite he wanted. After all, rest was rare when he had so many missions to be on and so many Umbrella connections to eliminate, so why couldn't he have it uninterrupted?

So he had more characters to chase after now. But first, he would have to find this strange person's identity, and only then atone for the other Wesker's crimes.

For an unknown reason, the thought that there was no rest for the wicked entered his mind, and it only annoyed him further as he had to remind himself that he was not the wicked character here.

Not that he had anything to atone for himself. Not that he felt any kind of remorse over his continuous murder sprees. So he opted to stop wasting his time and gear up to leave the cabin, as long as he was already awake and unable to fall back asleep.

Those Umbrella people weren't going to kill themselves, after all.


	56. Chapter 46 Wish you were here

It was silly, and she knew it was silly, but Shakahnna couldn't help but try out the moves she had seen in her dream

It was silly, and she knew it was silly, but Shakahnna couldn't help but try out the moves she had seen in her dream.

With her shift at the RPD over, the redhead was back at her usual apartment, except that now she was mimicking the manoeuvres that were attempted by the young woman in last night's dreams.

She was glad she could still remember the details of the hand and finger gestures, so she did her best to mimic them, and was happy that no one was watching as she felt like an absolute twat for doing them in the middle of the living room.

But even if it was just a dream, Shakahnna simply had to learn what that woman was trying to do, so she continued repeating the patterns in the air.

Unfortunately, several tries later only brought the same, non-existent result, and nothing occurred.

Discouraged, the teenager considered the idea of giving up and just preparing dinner, as Chisholm and Donnelly were returning late from their shift and would've appreciated having something ready. But before she did, another thought entered her mind, which prompted her to seek out the rune stones that had been given by Wesker a short time ago.

Finding the pouch that was resting on the bedroom counter, the young woman withdrew as many as would fit in the palm of her right hand and examined the runes there. Following the indentations around one rune with her left index finger, she then retraced its shape in the air while keeping the group of items in the right palm.

Except that this time, the burning shape of that particular rune appeared in the air, which surprised Shakahnna enough to have her lose her grip on the things she was holding. As the runes fell towards the carpet below, the redhead suddenly felt very tired, even more so than a typical day at work should've put her through. Out of breath, she kept her right hand on the counter to keep from falling over, and soon decided she needed to lie down instead.

Rather than proceed towards the bed or couch, though, Shakahnna opted to simply lie down on the floor, glad that her hands were still cold as she placed them on her cheeks, countering the burning sensation that was on her face. Catching her breath and not understanding why she felt as if she just jogged a mile, she continued resting as she began falling asleep without realizing it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Every other room in the building had a working air conditioning unit, the artificial coolant even being in place within the hallways, except for the STARS room, which was left unattended during this day when the high temperature was 88 degrees.

The fact that the STARS room had no windows only made the air in here more stagnant. And while agent Valentine knew that she should at least open the door to the office to acquire some atmosphere from the corridor that led here, she repeatedly decided that doing so wasn't worth the hassle. She had already learned from days past that keeping the door open invited jeers, taunts, swear words from passer-byes, and even some officers tossing their trash into the STARS office as they walked by. Along with all that stress, of course, came the increased risk of Chris Redfield having a heart attack, so Valentine had made up her mind before today to just suffer in the heat and rely as much as possible on fans and the cold water from the nearby water cooler. Every once in a while, the idea of throwing some water over her face and hair was implemented, but the effects of that waned after about the fourth time.

So the Alpha team mechanic felt worse, the heat obviously exacerbating her sense of social isolation, and the fact that all RPD staff were now allowed, or even encouraged, to bully members of the STARS not helping matters at all.

Not everyone in this damn building was like that, of course. Some fellow cops and support personnel just avoided them altogether, not making eye contact and saying nothing if they happened to see each other by chance. There was even the odd and rare individual who was friendly, limiting the outgoingness to when other officers weren't around. Valentine couldn't blame those few people for being reluctant to speak up, not when fraternizing with the enemy on the job would make people question your loyalty and be less likely to help someone whose trust they questioned.

Thus, sitting at her desk, drying her face with a towel for what felt like was the thousandth time, and being irritated by the sensation of wet hair, the young woman sighed as she wondered why she hadn't stopped coming to work, again.

For the first time since this social nightmare started the day after the trauma at the mansion, the agent wondered to herself why she and the rest of the STARS hadn't been fired. The thought that she was wondering that and not doing any work didn't occur to her as she absently looked over to where officer Chambers eagerly toiled at her desk.

Maybe it was as Redfield said, that firing anyone who had a permanent contract in the public sector was almost impossible as long as the targeted employee didn't voluntarily quit, even in the face of overwhelming evidence, whether the proof was real or fabricated. Plus, her boyfriend and agent Burton had many contacts in the military who were bound to create trouble for Umbrella. So the pharmaceutical company probably preferred to deal with a handful of disgraced agents who got nowhere in their job, rather than a handful of fired officers who may then try to physically attack it, possibly by using stolen or borrowed military hardware. In that respect, Umbrella was probably right, as Valentine could easily imagine agent Redfield going berserk and not caring about the illegality of his actions if he was fired, as the marskman seemed to have nothing in his life other than his employment.

She shouldn't feel so discouraged, she told herself with a rough scratch of her wet hair and exhaled hard, her face lowered too closely to the desk surface. They seemed to have some silent partners at hand. The young woman knew of at least a single person, and maybe that individual was the one who slipped them the large folders in the middle of the night. Better yet, maybe there were several people who were trying to assist the STARS from the shadows. After all, Valentine and her friends couldn't have been the only ones who knew what Umbrella was up to.

Valentine trailed off, too annoyed to be able to pay attention to the work that waited on her desk, and stared at the clock on the wall, feeling more discouraged that she had only been here for two hours, but felt as if she did a full shift already. And to make matters worse, it was going to be at least another three hours before Redfield and Burton returned from their trip of making contact with a possible informant. Whether that effort paid off or not remained to be seen, and she would find the result after the infinite wait that would be endured until this shift ended.

Too bad every minute would feel like an hour before the end of today's shift, just like it did yesterday.

"Uh, Becca, I didn't get a chance to ask", Valentine finally addressed her only present colleague, guessing that the diversion would be good, "How's _your_ day going?".

The 18-year old didn't verbally respond, instead looking back from the pile of papers and files that made it impossible to see the surface of her own desk, a look of utter despair on her face as she was partly slumped on her chair.

The facial appearance was enough to prompt Valentine to stop feeling sorry for herself, at least for now.

"Oh, sweetie, what's the matter?", the mechanic partly stood up from her chair without noticing.

"I'm OK", the younger girl murmured while returning her eyes on the desk in front of her.

"No, you're not", Valentine amicably corrected as she approached the medic's workstation, "Look, if you want, we can go down to the canteen and…".

She stopped talking while she was in the process of partially bending down and placing an arm around Chambers' shoulders.

"Oh, wait, I guess we can't", the mechanic corrected herself.

The teenager's head drooped even further.

"Look, I'm sorry", Valentine replied as she squatted on the floor and looked up at her colleague, "Maybe being here isn't the best thing for either one of us. Leaving isn't out of the question, you know. Would you like to go and wait for the guys while we get something to eat?".

Unfortunately, Chambers turned to face Valentine's direction, but still insisting on staring at her own lap instead.

"Becca?", it was Valentine's light squeeze of one of the medic's knees that caused the teenager to start sobbing.

"Oh, no, no, no!", the older woman consoled by standing up and lightly gripping both the girl's shoulders, "This isn't OK, What's the matter?".

Thinking that she may as well get comfortable for the conversation that she was adamant she was going to have, the Alpha team agent casually shuffled a pile of papers before sitting on the desk's edge.

"I'm not clever enough, Jill!", Chambers finally uttered after several more sniffles, and then blew her nose on a tissue.

"What? What are you _talking_ about, sweetie?", Valentine gave a quick laugh while relaxing further on the desk, "You're a _genius_! Why would you say something that silly?".

"But I'm _not_!", the teenager hysterically countered, "Chris is always saying that. 'You're a genius, Becca'. 'You can do it, Becca'. 'I got every confidence in you, Becca'. Well, I _can't_ get my head around this, Jill! I've been wracking my brains every free second that I have and I'm just not…".

She was crying enough that Valentine reached forward and gave her a strong hug, prompting the medic to finish saying "getting anywhere" while her face was pressed into the mechanic's shoulder.

"Listen, we're going to see what we can do to make you feel better, OK?", Valentine offered after she separated from her associate and then offered her another tissue, "I don't want you to be so worked up over this all the time, OK? Because all that will do is make you sick on the long run, and nothing's worth that. Now, first thing we're going to do is get you out of here and away from these damn cops".

"Actually, the cops in this precinct haven't been giving me a lot of hassle", Chambers corrected while calming down and drying her eyes, which caused the older woman to instinctively wonder why that was, especially when she and her other friends were experiencing the work equivalent of hell on earth.

"Huh, really?", the mechanic thought out loud, and quickly wished she had sounded happier that the teenager was being spared that problem.

"Something about me being part of the Bravo helicopter and being more a victim in this case than you Alpha drunks and druggies who…", the teenager started explaining before the quiet stare she was receiving caused her to stop, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that, I know what happened as well and and see! I just can't do _anything_ right".

"Stop saying that about yourself!", Valentine gave a friendly reprimand, "You're the smartest person I know!".

"Jill, it's all for nothing", the younger woman sniffled, though thankfully more relaxed this time, "It's like I'm trying to read Chinese here. Half these notes that you received don't make sense, and the other half that does would require me to have access to labs and years of research to replicate, which I don't have!".

"Oh, dear", the mechanic's sad face reflected how she felt as she rubbed her forehead.

"I'm just not as clever as the people who put this virus together, Jill", the medic confessed while breathing out, "This doctor Sarton here keeps talking about terms that I understand by themselves, but put together, they just _don't_ make _any sense_!".

"I think we just need to be realistic about what the few of us can achieve and what we can't, sweetie", the older woman explained, hoping the few ideas she had would help her friend feel better, "It's not fair to expect you to understand some shit that Umbrella probably spent decades building, all in a few weeks, and without the resources that they had".

"But I don't want to disappoint Chris!", Chambers suddenly became hysterical again at the mere mention of admitting failure, "He's counting on me! He's got no one else to depend on except us! And this is the only thing I'm good at, that I can _do_ for him!".

"Chris doesn't want you to be killing yourself with stress, sweetie", Valentine's even tone convinced the medic that it was true, "And even if you _could_ decode this, what does Chris expect to happen after that? I don't think he thought that far ahead. This was just something for you to do which Chris was hoping would lead to a positive result, but we're not going to have any one of us feeling _this_ bad, OK?".

"Still, no leaving, I can't leave here", the girl completed drying her eyes as she partially turned her attention away from her friend and stared down at the piles of notes on the desk.

The blank look on Chambers' face made it clear to Valentine that the medic wasn't understanding any of it, not when she was this tired. So thinking to herself that the task of convincing someone to take a day off shouldn't be as difficult as this, the Alpha team agent lightly gripped the teenager's shoulder, giving a small smile while she brushed the youngster's short hair aside with her other hand.

At least it was enough for Chambers to turn her attention away from the workstation and back to the older woman, and now, the Bravo officer's eyes registered that she recognized her colleague. Definitely a good sign.

But the more experienced officer had to wonder for an instant about Chambers' emotional state. So far, the medic had been the sole surviving member of either STARS teams who said nothing about family or friends that she was concerned about, or who she missed. Was it because the rookie had loved ones that she was worried over, but wasn't mentioning?

"Why don't you want to go, sweetie?", Valentine whispered once their eyes were locked, "You're no good to Chris here, even if we ignore the stress you're putting yourself through. After a break, maybe a nap and a bath, you'll be able to concentrate on this stuff better anyway, and maybe make some headway?".

"Because leaving means I've given up! That it's beaten me!", an agitated teenager shot back as she forced her shoulder out of Valentine's grasp, as if she was pointing out the obvious, "I'm not going to do that! I can't…".

"Come on, sweetie, I'm taking you out of here", the Alpha agent kept her composure as she stood off the desk, taking a hold of Chambers by both shoulders and hoping that the younger girl wouldn't resist too much.

Unfortunately, resisting is exactly what the shorter person did, vigorously shaking her head and remaining seated while she tried to shake off both Valentine's hands.

"OK, I'm not _asking_ you", the older woman persisted as she gripped her shoulders tighter and forced her to stand up, "Consider that to be an order from your superior officer".

Valentine held her breath, hoping that her colleague wouldn't remember that neither one of them had authority over the other. Then again, maybe Chambers did recall that fact, but just wasn't pointing it out, perhaps wanting to be forced away from this workstation by someone else, as long as she didn't have to admit quitting herself.

"But it's a waste of my time!", was the teenager's last protest as she grudgingly stood up.

"Sweetie, so's being sick, which is where you're headed if you stay here", Valentine insisted as she gently pushed her towards the room's exit, and eventually into the cooler hallway on the other side of the door.

A breath of cleaner, non-humid air was inhaled by the two agents once they proceeded into the corridor, both feeling glad that none of their colleagues from the department were within eyesight.

Having established that today was finished as far as productivity on the job was concerned, the only issue now was to ask which establishment within Raccoon City to visit. Valentine guessed that they had several choices of where to go to get something to eat, all within walking distance of RPD headquarters, and maybe Chambers would've preferred to have some alone time later, or perhaps she would wish to stay in her colleague's company. She still hadn't spoken much about her experiences in the mansion, contrary to all the other STARS survivors, and the Alpha team member knew that the teenager had been alone for quite some time during that hellish night.

Regardless, the medic was definitely going to be argued with if she wanted to be alone, whether she was emotional or not, as Redfield's suggestion that the teenager is always around Valentine, himself, or Burton was a sound one.

But the older woman would cross that bridge if she got to it later today. First, there was lunch to consider, and then they would make plans together while awaiting for Redfield and Burton to return. Not surprisingly, though, time suddenly wasn't moving in slow motion any more.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"The higher-ups were wondering if you have anything to add to this, officer", the usually rambunctious RPD agent was being abnormally quiet as he addressed the seated medic, handing a Xeroxed sheet of paper to his younger colleague.

From her position, Rebecca Chambers tried to keep the surprise off her face at seeing the piece of paper, along with a copied picture of Billy Cohen that was previously paper-clipped to the form, but was now part of the sheet she was staring it.

"It's only because this fugitive was last reported to be at the same sight as your team's location, at the same time", the older man who had approached her work station began talking, "If you don't know anything, just check the box at the bottom there and I'll take it back to…".

He stopped when the teenager quickly shook her head and brought the offered paperwork closer to herself by sliding it on the surface of her desk. She didn't pay attention to the individuals who appeared behind the young man via the open door that led to the corridor outside of the STARS office, not that her visitor managed to hear Redfield and Valentine as the duo had approached him silently.

"_What_ the hell are you doing?", the marksman's accusing question prompted the patrolman to at least turn his head around, the new man's face tensing when he realized that the most annoying member of Special Tactics And Rescue Service was behind him, "Is there a _reason_ you waited till she was here alone before barging _in_ here?".

Neither man noticed Chambers as she partly stood up in her chair, her right hand firmly keeping Cohen's copied arrest warrant pinned to her desk, and opened her mouth to try to speak up. Valentine realized her reaction, but was drawn into the latest verbal confrontation her boyfriend was currently involved in.

"Look, mac, I didn't wait till your friend was alone. She just _happened_ to be the only one here when I popped in", the guest nonchalantly lied, having come here during this selected time in an effort to avoid Redfield's reputed aggression towards all non-STARS members, "I was just given this question about this Cohen guy for her because she was the only one in that area at that time".

The second half of his statement being the truth, the patrolman felt more comfortable at the prospect of being honest in this situation, so he casually raised his hands in front of his shoulders, palms facing the two STARS members.

"Now, I'm not looking for a fight", the visitor continued with a relaxed smirk, "All I want is a tick from the kid back there saying that she's never seen this Cohen guy".

He then turned around and addressed the re-seated Chambers again.

"Or a written description of what you _did_ see, if anything", the patrolman grinned a second time while pointing down with his right index, "That goes right there if you have anything to say".

The smirk disappeared off his face as he rotated his upper body back to face Redfield's narrow eyes, even as Chambers was politely smiling back this time.

"Like I said, just doing my job here, and I'd appreciate you getting out of my way now that I'm done, pretty please?", the guest added with his arms now relaxed by his sides, "If you're still itching for a fight, what with us not being STARS and all, I get off my shift in about two hours. What's your call?".

"There's no need for that!", the 18-year old exclaimed, this time standing up fully from behind the desk and causing three pairs of eyes to gaze at her, "I _remember_ this man, officer, um…".

She leaned slightly closer to read the nametag on her visitor's RPD uniform.

"…Ryman", the medic finished, "I _do_ remember him. He died from a fall while he was avoiding us. I'll be _happy_ to report that".

"Great", officer Ryman threw a glance over his shoulder and winked at the teenager once, "Just drop it by room 206 for Aaron to process when you're done, OK?".

"No problem, I'll do it this afternoon", the youngest person in the room agreed, resulting in surprise registering on agent Valentine's face, though Redfield and the visitor were still busy staring at each other only.

"Thanks for your co-operation", the second young man lightly slapped Chambers' desk before walking out the door, keeping his eyes locked with the marksman the whole way there, till he disappeared into the adjacent hallway.

"Chris, would you mind going to see what Barry needs?", Valentine asked her boyfriend once the three agents were alone and Chambers was absentmindedly returning to her chair, not even noticing the presence of her two colleagues as the offered paper had her full attention.

"What're you talking about?", the young man inquired while the medic began rubbing the hair at the top of her head.

"Barry said something about wanting our help before the end of the day, I just remembered", the older woman recalled, "Maybe you could see what that was about, and I'll stay here?".

"Yeah, alright", Redfield stared once at his watch, and then back at the seated teenager, "So much for our credo that Becca never stays alone, huh? The week's not even over and we've already slipped up".

Chambers gave a fake smile while looking up at him, not even noticing what statement she was reacting to, as she hadn't heard what he said, and then returned her attention to the sheet in front of her.

"It's OK, lesson learned", Valentine gripped his face with one hand and kissed him on the lips in a vigorous way, which finally distracted the teenager from the concentration on the desk there, though only for an instant, before Chambers sighed inwardly at her own agitation.

"Be back in a few", the marksman promised as he left the two women and proceeded outside also, allowing his girlfriend to close the door behind him.

The Alpha team member casually stood in place in front of her colleague's desk, with her hands resting in her uniform pockets and staring down at the top of the teenager's head for several seconds, before Chambers realized what was happening.

"What was _that_ about?", Valentine curiously asked in a friendly manner.

For a moment, the medic thought the taller woman was demanding an answer for why she appeared huffy at seeing her two associates kissing, and was about to give a false explanation. Then, Chambers stopped herself from having to come up with a lie about how Valentine was mistaken, as she noticed that neither the machines expert nor the marksman had seen her negative reaction. And that was good, she thought to herself.

Then again, if the more experienced woman wasn't talking about the girl's reaction to the kiss that was planted on Redfield's mouth, then what was she referring to?

"What's this?", the shorter woman replied with a question of her own.

"If I remember correctly, you were going on _all_ day about how you wanted to get out of here", Valentine remembered, "And now that it's finally close to quitting time, you're _eager_ to stay here to do paperwork?".

"Oh, _that_", the rookie STARS member gave another fake smile, "Just want to do my job, Jill, that's all".

The genuine smirk and raised eyelids on Valentine's face gave a clear indication that she wasn't convinced by the lie, which was then followed by her walking over to her own desk, grabbing her chair, and bringing the item to the other side of Chambers' desk.

Once there, Valentine sat down across the medic's workstation, casually leaning her elbows on the flat surface as she kept her eyes on the teenager.

"What's on your mind, sweetie?", she verbally prodded.

"Nothing!", Chambers protested louder as she shuffled the stationery in front of her and worked hard to change the subject, "Besides, why are you looking for a chat when Chris and Barry are probably going to come back here any minute? What was that help Barry needed?".

"Oh, that? Barry didn't say anything to me", Valentine admitted, "But knowing him, once Chris goes and ask what assistance he needs, Barry will give him something to do. Something _always_ comes up around here. I just lied about that to get Chris outta here".

"Riiiight", the rookie answered in a defeated tone that indicated she was cornered.

"I'm guessing you know this Cohen fellow", the more experienced woman invited herself to the sheet that officer Ryman brought, "Oooh! Long list of nasty charges on him. Can't say I ever met someone who was convicted of war crimes before".

Valentine returned the paper back to Chambers' hands.

"Why is he important?", she asked next, the steady glance into the medic's eyes proving that she wasn't dropping the topic.

"I came across Billy right after my helicopter went down", the medic whispered back after leaning across the desk to be closer towards her friend, "I wouldn't have survived to meet Chris and then you if it wasn't for him".

"Really?", the older woman thought out loud.

"Umbrella _framed_ him, Jill", Chambers whispered louder now, "And while I was there, I found out what they wanted to do to him. These experiments with one virus or another, that's what he was being taken to. There was a list. So many people who were already experimented on like _he_ was supposed to be".

"If you trust him, then so do I, sweetie", Valentine made her glad to hear, "From the way you're acting, I take it that he's not dead and you want him reported as such?".

"I didn't want to lie! I was so ashamed!", the medic exclaimed in as hushed a tone as she could manage, "My first time out, and I let someone go against the rules. What would captain Marini have said?".

"Captain Marini would've wanted you to do what's _right_", the Alpha team member clarified, "What's right isn't necessary what's legal, sweetie. This last week _proves_ that. We're the druggies and Umbrella's the innocent corporation, last I heard".

"I know! What a mess…", Chambers rubbed her face, "It's because of him being a fugitive that he wasn't able to come with me into the mansion. We both wanted him to, but we reasoned that there'd be hundreds of cops waiting for me there, so he couldn't stay".

"Instead, you got half a dozen lost Alpha members running around in a maze", Valentine continued, "Not the same as hundreds of cops, but surely almost as good, no?".

Too bad Chambers didn't smile while she did, the older woman thought to herself.

"Oh, what's the matter, sweetie?", Valentine asked next, with a more serious tone this time as she leaned forward also and held the top of the teenager's hand.

"I just…", her sad expression didn't change as she picked the right words in a more subdued tone, "I guess I wish he was here, is all. Could really use him right now. We _all_ could".

"Yeah, I'm sure", the machines expert agreed, "He would've probably helped us in the mansion too. But if he can make it through all that, he should be okay now, wherever he is".

"I guess", the rookie agent finally uttered.

"But for now, why don't you take your time and write down how he 'died', and we'll hand that form in and go for dinner, OK?", Valentine offered while standing up.

"Will do, Jill. Thanks", the teenager gave a small smile that was genuine this time as her colleague was returning the chair to its rightful place.

"And if I remember correctly, the eastern part of Raccoon Forest has the thickest vegetation", the older woman nonchalantly offered, "So if someone were to fall from one of those cliffs there, it'd be _ages_ before his body could be found".

"Right, right", the smile on Chambers' face widened as she began writing on the sheet itself.

"Now where's Chris already?", the older woman remained on her feet and leaning against her own desk as she faced the closed door to the STARS office, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she relaxed, "You can't send this guy on a fool's errand without him getting sidetracked. And he better not go on about another dinner at the Apple Inn again. If I step into that restaurant one more time, I may have to hurl".

A giggle was heard from the teenager this time, so Valentine knew she was on the right track.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The crowd at the Essential Café was smaller in number now than it would've been later on tonight, as it was still in the early afternoon. But there was no doubt that the individuals here considered themselves to be classy. In addition, most of the staff at the snack bar was so patronisingly friendly that anyone who was more intelligent than these customers would know that they were either being made fun of or being flattered for bigger tips.

The young lady remained seated in the raised platform, doing her best to enjoy the shade from the parasol, and reminding herself that she shouldn't frown, not if she wished to avoid future lines and wrinkles on her forehead.

So careful of how many of her feelings were presented on her face, she surveyed the other customers, wondering why her contact still hadn't shown up. He was supposed to meet her here, and at this specific time of the day, but continued to be absent even though the young woman came here every day for the last week. This new subordinate at HCF was allegedly new to the company, after being a former high-ranking scientist at Umbrella due to being unsatisfied there and figuratively selling his soul to her employer. So the contact was mentioned as having lots of inside information about Umbrella Inc, just too bad he wasn't good at keeping appointments.

Besides, didn't everyone pretend to have sensitive secrets about Umbrella nowadays?

But regardless, her boss seemed to think that this new man's contributions to HCF made him someone who was worth waiting for. Of course, it wasn't her boss who was having to waste his precious time while sitting here, and she was, which was especially annoying.

Her perfectly manicured fingers gripped the glass of cosmopolitan slightly harder, reminding herself to not frown again. It was true that she wasn't merely agitated about being stood up, but had been in a bad mood for the last two months, ever since learning that one of her colleagues, and the only person she may have thought of as a friend, was missing and presumed dead. Jon Fae was actually a very good guy, and he had worked side by side with her for a long time. Most people had believed, or went as far as asking, if the two of them were lovers, as it was clearly unbelievable for a man and woman to be on good terms without them being in a sexual relationship, the lady cynically sighed to herself alone. Still, though, the thought of continuing with this business when he was no longer there created a knot in her chest that just got tighter as she pondered on the condition further.

Ada Wong stopped her mind from wandering in that direction, suddenly feeling angered at being left alone and without work to distract her from the loss of her friend.

What was she doing here, exactly? She asked nonverbally while placing the currently empty glass down.

She and Jon had been hired by their actual employer to go undercover, with her friend being sent to Umbrella directly due to his degree in physics, while she was placed as an agent at HCF and given her current assignment. Now, she dearly wished they had both been assigned to the same place, as she would at least know what had happened to Fae, and been there to assist him when things went wrong.

Now, her undercover position in HCF was leading her to infiltrate Doctor William Birkin's underground base in this city. It was because her absent contact had been adamant that the best of Raccoon City's Umbrella research was taking place in that particular lab. However, Birkin was apparently no longer talking to his While Umbrella financiers, which was officially called a 'communications issue'. That led to both Umbrella and HCF to wonder what the brilliant, but reclusive, scientist was working on. Thus her orders to invade that research facility and obtain its work sooner rather than later, using whatever methods necessary.

So where was this man of a thousand secrets, considering it was his information that was causing Wong to be a double agent? Did he honestly have better things to do with his time than keep his appointment?

The young woman angrily snorted, thinking that she could do well without being in this backwater little town. No wonder Umbrella chose this Raccoon City for its research, she told herself, as no one in their right mind would voluntarily want to spend time here, or miss this place if it was gone off the map.

She looked at the clock one more time, suppressing the urge to sigh in annoyance at the time she had wasted here, when she could've spent the afternoon shopping instead. She had a lot of grief to displace, after all.

Standing up, the undercover HCF agent left her glass at the table as she began marching out of this figurative hole in the ground. She was halfway to the door when a uniformed officer from the RPD approached her and began talking, obviously in the hope that she'd stop for a conversation.

A quick glance at his identification tag referred to him as officer Elliot Edwards, probably here after his shift at work ended. And even if Wong was in the mood to socialise, which she wasn't at this time due to Fae's disappearance, she knew she would want nothing to do with this older man, not considering the bad glasses on his face and wavy mullet on his head.

"Hiii!", the officer spoke through his nose, clutching an open can of beer in one hand, and actually managing to come across to her as sleazy and mousy at the same time.

The woman momentarily stopped her movement towards the exit, turning her tilted head in his direction only long enough, exasperation at having to interact with him almost leading to a disgusted look on her face.

"Not today, loverboy", she announced before she resumed towards the door leading outside, leaving the man behind to try his luck on other women there.

As long he promised to not follow her outside, she'd be happy, Wong thought to herself as she placed sunglasses on her face due to the afternoon sun and began wondering which shop she should visit first.

Today wasn't going to be a total waste, after all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


	57. Chapter 47 Blood and Ink

"Miss Warren, to what do I owe this pleasure?", former captain Wesker addressed the guest as he placed himself in a seated position on one of the couches of his cabin.

The uniformed teenager formed an annoyed expression on her face as she kicked his left shin, without using enough force to hurt her own foot in the process, as she knew better than to think she could physically harm this man.

"What in the _world_ was that for?", he asked without any sign of irritation, genuinely surprised as she walked towards another sofa and flopped on top of it.

"You were being sarcastic!", the redhead shot back from several yards, "Chino said that it's okay to be doing that".

A grin appearing to suggest perhaps the advice she listened to was subjective, depending on her own whims.

"Ah", a momentary flash of irritation occurred on his face at the mental picture of Chisholm laughing at home due to the thought of his girlfriend kicking the former Umbrella employee.

It was very soon followed with a calmer expression, though.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised that Chisholm would have to depend on such tactics when faced with physical altercations", the man in the shades continued next.

"Chino doesn't like to fight", the young woman explained, "He doesn't need to, because if anyone gives him trouble, I jump on their head!".

She felt the need to give an example of her intentions by standing up and leaping as high into the air as possible, before landing back on the floor with a blunt thudding sound.

Odd, how that spectacle would've usually made him smile at least, Shakahnna thought to herself while remaining on her feet and paying attention to the lack of reaction on his features.

Did he look worried? She guessed that it was not the case, as his body language wasn't any more stressed than usual.

Still, though, there was something more subdued about him today.

"Are you tired?", Shakahnna thought out loud next while sitting down for the second time, actually feeling surprised at the notion that he may be.

"Only a little", Wesker admitted while flicking through his hair with the right hand and removing his sunglasses with his left, "It's been a busy couple of days. How's work?".

Damned if she didn't spot a small grin appearing out of the corner of his mouth as he finished saying that. But it disappeared a moment after it appeared.

"Weskie, I wish something made you smile besides your big murder sprees!", she crossed her arms in front of her chest in an indignant manner, "Do you _know_ how much overtime Raccoon City Hospital has been paying its employees this last week because so many of its normal staff keep disappearing? And work still sucks".

"The downside of _my_ work", he admitted, "But better for taxpayers' money to go there than anywhere else".

"Well, before you get your cock out and have a self-congratulatory wank, I wanted to update you of what's been happening", she informed him, amused at the mixture of surprise and distaste that appeared on his face at the description of what she expected him to do, "I've been playing with the runes you gave me, and I think I know some new stuff. Had a totally mental dream and it like kicked something into gear".

The rookie officer drew the symbol in the air that she had seen someone else attempt in her last nightmare, and the fiery sign appeared in front of her, and stayed there for a few seconds before dispersing into nothingness. She was so glad at her ability to repeat this process with ease that she didn't notice the shock on his face as his eyes narrowed and he sat up on his couch.

"It's not just the pretties, either", she happily commented as she withdrew a sewing needle that was attached to several feet of string, "Do you have a towel? This is gonna be _really_ messy".

"I don't mind the mess if you don't", Wesker admitted, "What do you have planned?".

"If you're sure", she winked at him before bracing herself for pain, and then shoved the needle into her wrist, pushed it all the way through while hissing in agony, and finally withdrew it out of the other way.

Wesker stayed quiet as he leaned forward on the couch, nonverbally wishing that this girl could show him something unforeseen and not have it involve a gratuitous amount of blood, for a change. He watched intently as the bloody string followed the trail she had created through her wrist, till the entire three foot long thread was red.

The former RPD agent winced while placing the sunglasses back in front of his face as he saw that the teenager was repeating the violence to her wrist a second time, working through the pain and ignoring the incarnadine drops that were pouring onto the carpet by her feet.

Finally finished, the rookie then snapped the needle away from the blood-soaked string, and then weaved it between her ten fingers, as if creating a cat's cradle. The net that was wrapped at the base of her fingers was held intentionally in the older man's direction as Shakahnna next looked at him through it, glad that the wound in her wrist had already began healing.

"Hit me", she smiled at him, causing him to suspect that something bad was about to happen, as they always did when she grinned like that.

"Now, why would I wish to do that, miss Warren?", he resisted the urge to grin back, "You haven't mentioned a word about ceasing your relationship with officer Chisholm, so this can't be a pass you're making. So explain yourself".

"Weskie, first, fuck you", the smile didn't fade from the girl's face as she stood up, no longer able to contain her excitement over the show she was putting on, "Secondly, you're my bitch, so do as you're told already".

Sighing, the man in the shades reasoned that it would take less time to agree to what she said, as opposed to refusing to follow such a ludicrous request and spending the rest of the night wondering why Warren was making this demand. So he stood up, taking three casual, but large, steps towards her, and delivered an intentionally light punch into the string net that was being held by both hands at arms' length in front of her face.

"No!", she protested while taking a step back, and realizing there was no force behind that punch, "Do it properly!".

"Fine", Wesker agreed at last, deciding to destroy the bloody offering, and in the process injuring the young woman's arms.

At least she wouldn't take long to recover from the injury, he reasoned as he delivered a jab into the string net. The result was that his fist collided with the bloody obstacle and he felt pain travelling through his arm, as if he was a regular human who tried to punch a brick wall. In addition to that, the rookie officer who was holding the target for him showed no sign of feeling the impact, the same smile always on her face as she did.

"Explain", the taller individual instructed as he partly turned away and walked back to his sofa, rubbing the painful fist which reminded him that he didn't miss any of the qualities that accompanied him being a normal human being.

"See, I had this dream", she recounted as she discarded the now useless string on the floor, not seeing the surprise he felt due to Wesker keeping all facial reactions off his features, "It's the blood!".

Occasionally Shakahnna was an exercise in stating the obvious.

"You can't just get something, you have to give as well. It's like... I guess you have to power it up. But so far I don't know anything that will make it go away. It was the dream, in the dream it showed me all this stuff. There's fire too, so much stuff, it's so awesome, it's SO awesome and I couldn't wait to show you".

Gushing passionately about something one could not help but appreciate.

"This dream of yours. It was when, exactly?", the former RPD spy asked next, happy that the ache in his hand and arm was already gone.

"Imagine, Weskie! I can be a pyromaniac!", she either didn't hear his question or was too excited to answer it right now, "Of course, _Chino_ couldn't be happy about this. All you heard was him complaining. 'Oh my! The curtain's on fire! What did you _do_?' And then _Donnelly_ shows up, and would _he_ be more open-minded? No! 'You're not allowed to do this in the house!' No 'You're fantastic', no 'Wow! What's your secret?', which you'd think that shooting fire from your hands would merit".

"Miss Warren, as interesting as this is, and useful as it _could_ be, I'd like you to tell me about this dream you had", Wesker continued, "What do you remember about it?".

"Oh, that?" The teenager let him know from a more relaxed position, "Something I dreamt last night, about a girl I didn't recognize who was imprisoned".

"This wouldn't happen to be merely minutes prior to 4 in the morning, would it?", her friend asked next.

"Mmhmm", Shakahnna spread her arms away from her torso, indicating she did not know, "It be'd funny hours".

"She was entrapped in a clear prison, almost as if someone was collecting her and other young women _like_ her, the same way that a doll collector may amass toys", the man in the shades described from his end, "Which was after she was placed in a cathedral due to unsuccessfully warding off her masked jailers by attempting the same symbol you did just now. Is any of this what you remember?".

The young woman stopped talking, the look on her face indicating that both individuals had the same dream last night.

"So likely it was not a meaningless dream", he thought out loud next, rubbing his forehead to ease some of the tension there, "Tell me this, miss Warren. Who was that Asian man? The one in charge of the guards?".

"I don't know who he be's", the girl had to admit, "But I remember seeing him before. He's…".

She stopped for a moment, looking for the right words to describe someone who she was only vaguely familiar with.

"He's not right", she finally mentioned in a serious tone, all excitement at her new-found abilities gone, "He did something very… wrong".

"Perfect staff member at Umbrella, then", her friend added.

"Even worse than that, Weskie", Shakahnna tried hard to remember, "He sucked the life out of someone, left just ash, a person into a little pile".

"You're talking about the arcane rather than science?".

The lack of response on her part was all he needed.

"Of course", Wesker followed his own statement, "Nothing scientific about what you just did here, is there? No super virus, no infection. Just magic".

"But it _must_ be some kind of virus I have Weskie, because you caught it", the teenager explained, "Except you were stronger than me before".

"What happened to me doesn't have to do with the arcane, miss Warren", Wesker sighed while leaning back on the sofa and looking up at the ceiling of his cabin, "You bringing me and Claymont back from the dead, yes, but no _this__. _If it had, then our former vice-president should've returned to life with the same power as me".

He turned his right hand into a fist, and held it between himself and her.

"This is the correct blend of viral infection, that's all", the man in the shades pointed out to her, "This, I'm sure of. The wrong blend of infection being the zombies that were plaguing this city before. Now, as for _you_, I have no explanation".

"I'm the Shak strain!", a new grin on her face this time, wider than before, though it was obvious the statement was not one she believed.

The young cop cleared her throat. Plainly, this comedy routine wasn't helping the conversation, even though it should have.

"Maybe it's because you touched the rune-stones, is why you had the same dream as me", the teenager gave an educated guess, "From what I know about these, you're not supposed to let someone else touch them, and from the energy they're giving out…".

She stopped talking, trailing off while still trying to find a reason behind this ambiguity.

"Whether this mystery man is Umbrella or not, I look forward to dealing with him if I ever get the chance, then", Wesker cracked his knuckles while sitting back up straight, not feeling less tired after the mere two minutes of rest he acquired, "His actions are as much an affront to nature as WU's were. Using enchantments instead of biology does not make him any less culpable of those crimes ".

He wearily climbed to his feet next, seemingly inspiring himself the further he talked.

"But first things first, miss Warren, I'll need you to remember anything you can about this person", the man in the glasses continued, "Just in case he _happens_ to be Umbrella's trump card. It's best to know one's opponent as much as possible, and I don't know enough of my possible weaknesses to be confident of victory against a powerful foe, much less that I know nothing about _his_ abilities".

The verbal pep talk over, Wesker sat back down on his side of the living room, exhaling in a satisfied fashion, though still feeling physically drained. A good night's sleep was definitely in order, so the mental hit list he carried had to wait for tonight.

But before then, a more urgent business was at hand on the short run.

"So, tell me about your day", he continued next, promising himself to not interrupt his friend as she talked, no matter how much taradiddle she would undoubtedly throw at him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Summer Blues : Prices Plummet as Temperatures Soar._

_The first week of August brings record heat for this part of the nation, with the temperature hitting 94 degrees in downtown Raccoon City. But while the town's citizens would be expected to be taking it easy in the sun, it's the complete opposite that is taking place._

_The record-breaking low for house prices is causing far more distress than any steady temperature increase could create, with occupants who have lived in Raccoon City for years, or even decades, opting to leave their home town in droves._

_This writer found many differing reasons amid interviews of dozens of such individuals, both in person before they left their roots to start new lives in parts unknown, and by phone when speaking to citizens who were now settled elsewhere._

_The first reason mentioned is that the citizenry still feel uncomfortable in Raccoon City after the cannibal killings that took place in and around the town a few, short weeks ago. While those murders stopped, most people, whether they decide to stay here or not, express concern over the lack of progress made in apprehending the killer or killers. The last effort made by the Police Department involved the use of the once-elite STARS teams, but what followed the STARS' deployment was a series of worrying, and embarrassing, setbacks for the RPD._

_STARS is still officially employed in Raccoon City, but allegations of drug and alcohol use, as well as negligent danger that some members placed the town's citizens, in has crippled their effectiveness, perhaps forever. _

_After the deaths of several members due to either their own or their colleagues' misconduct, the remaining members of this unit are still awaiting their fate. That could range from nothing done by the department, to indefinite suspension, or to the loss of their job, though the last option is likely to take more time and more public attention in a case that the RPD would rather forget._

_This impotence showed by the RPD's supposed finest outlines the lack of trust that citizens have in their government to protect them. As many of the questioned put it – there's no guarantee that the killer or killers responsible for those grisly events will not return to Raccoon City in the future, as the lack of arrests proves that only natural death, movement to another area, or a voluntary desire to stop killing has ceased the cannibal murders in Raccoon City._

_Of those who stay, many are depending on their founding fathers' method of self-defence, with Kendo's and Makin Chambers reporting more firearms sold in the last months than in the last two years combined. _

_Regardless of the availability of weapons, there's no doubt fear of the future is causing many people to leave Raccoon City, even if it means selling their home to a financial loss first._

_Despite the jittery state expressed by many citizens, this writer learned that there's more ailing our great town than just past problems._

_For starters, the sick cannibal murders of earlier this year seem to be replaced by another killer who seems to have started stalking the streets of Raccoon City. Main difference? Seems that this particular predator prefers killing members of a scientific background, particularly those involved with medicine and healing. So far, no less than 16 hospital members are confirmed to have been murdered while at work or at their home, with another handful killed while working in research labs, leading citizens to worry about the presence of a prolific, and very daring, serial killer._

_The dead bodies appear to have been shot, stabbed, or strangled on an irregular basis, with the killer's preferred choice being that of using some unknown method to crush his victim's heads._

_To this date, the RPD have not released any updates on this case, nor even acknowledged that a serial killer is in the works. Which doesn't come as a big surprise that citizens no longer trust the Police Department to stop him, or to even release the actual number of people he's killed, leading some medical professionals to resort to arming themselves, or even hiring personal guards._

_In what is shaping up to me the most frightening year this town has ever seen, reports of many disappearances in Raccoon City also have its citizens asking if there's even more to worry about than the two tragic events mentioned earlier. There are no official numbers to confirm this reporter's statement of vanishings in Raccoon City, primary because the RPD continuously refuses to return phone calls in regards to actual reported numbers._

_But in the last three weeks, this writer spoke to no less than 24 sets of families who had loved ones go missing, with each family told that it seems that there is no sign of foul play, that their father, mother, son or daughter has simply left home and appears to have nothing to do with his/her relatives. _

_Lastly, the number of houses whose prices plummeted in Raccoon City have increased tenfold since the beginning of the cannibal murders, and this time it's explained by nothing more than pure economics. Sellers are desperate to sell and leave this town, while buyers are not interesting in buying and moving into it._

_Since the beginning of this ill-fated summer, our mid-sized town has seen its population shrink as hundreds, if not thousands, of its citizens have simply left, usually acquiring a financial loss by quitting their work and selling their homes at below-market value. Again, the official numbers are not known as the Department of Human Services refuses to provide them. But a normal walk down any street will allow the casual viewer to see the number of For Sale signs hanging on homes, and many readers will know neighbours who decided to give up on Raccoon City by now._

_So what is there to do? _

Ben Bertolucci stopped reading the article he had submitted to his editor this morning, and angrily slammed the sheets of paper on a random desk at The Raccoon City Press.

The young man marched towards a specific room in the building, and proceeded into Mr Mathewson's office without knocking, and interrupted the older editor's paperwork by angrily closing the door behind himself.

"This is NOT the report I sent you!", Bertolucci exclaimed before Mathewson could protest.

"No, it's just one that will keep you and us from being sued", the seated man went on, careful to not miss the spot he was at while working on his files, and hoping this argument wouldn't take more than five minutes, especially when he was already behind schedule.

"You honestly think it's a coincidence that just about _everyone_ who's gone missing is either an Umbrella grunt, or one who works for one of Umbrella's puppet corporations?", the young man worked hard to keep his voice down, "Office Angels? SN&T? Bredero Shaw? Those companies have one, major thing in common, Ed. None of them actually exists! And they were _all_ created by Umbrella! And why is it that _every_ single family who's moved out of Raccoon and who I talked to was so because its breadwinner was working for either Umbrella or one of its fake corporations? They keep refusing to tell me _why_, but do you think it takes any imagination to…".

"Ben, you're wasting your time and mine!", Mathewson loudly cut him off mid-rant before calming down and continuing in a regular tone of voice, "Look, this isn't going to happen. I'm sorry. But all this hearsay just can't be in tomorrow's paper and not give us a ten million dollar suit from this town's _biggest_ damn employer".

A tired sigh from the seated editor and an angry one from the journalist who was still on his feet.

"Look, I'm sorry, kid, really", the older man went on, "But what you have is all that will go in the papers. You can either fight it and get nothing done for the rest of the week or go be a journalist".

A few, suppressed swear words exited Bertolucci's mouth before he turned around and left the editor's office, causing the higher-ranking press employee to be glad for the quick resolution to the discussion.

And while the kid had a point, he should've known better than to come in here without any evidence, Mathewson thought to himself.

But what in the world was happening in this crazy town?

Anyway, enough distractions because in these times, there was always more work to be done.


	58. Chapter 48 The Old Quick Switch

Shakahnna Warren told herself that she was sure that her Fairy Godmother was unlikely to be here during her shift at the RPD. However, the uniformed redhead had made a promise to STARS agent Valentine, and she looked over her shoulder to see the older woman walking away after their conversation together. The teenager had made a promise to help with the Alpha team mechanic's problem, after all, and she had just the right idea to make it happen, even considering she was virtually taking the coward's stance, unlike them. Hopefully, after her idea was implemented, Valentine's boyfriend would be somewhat less likely to be picked on, thus causing him to lose his temper less, and letting her get her own things done.

The young woman smirked to herself as she walked past the mostly empty hallway, and returned to the area that was full of workstations. A moment of melancholy greeted her when she inadvertently passed captain Wesker's former office, now having been refurnished and redecorated, belonging to another RPD captain who Shakahnna hadn't met.

Come to think of it, she didn't wish to meet this new high-ranking official, as if he wouldn't be in Umbrella's employ, she sarcastically snorted to herself as she hurried her pace.

She didn't want anyone else replacing Wesker, either. Not that this new man could, of course, whether matching the blonde man's emotional intensity and determination, much less his physical prowess, even before he was hyped up on his former employer's virus.

Too much reminiscing was only going to make things worse. Things to be taking care of, things she could actually influence, she pointed out, proceeding towards her destination.

Finally reaching it, she was glad to find officer Donnelly there while Chisholm was still stuck in court, having been urgently called away to give testimony, only to then find out that his case wasn't ready to be called in front of judge Jackson yet. So Shakahnna grinned wider as she marched towards the older cop and grabbed him by the back of the neck, forcefully getting his attention from the paperwork he was trying to organise.

"Make yourself useful, Eric", Officer Warren suggested, "You're coming with me".

-------------------------

Police Chief Brian Irons had already washed his hands after working in the secret chamber that was reached behind his personal office. Of course, he was feeling proud at the stuffed eagle that he had first killed, and then immortalised, as he viewed it, by freezing its appearance, trapped forever beautiful in time. So now, the middle-aged man was still considering the space where this newest trophy should rest in his current work environment, when he heard the hushed whispered emanating from outside his office.

He thought he recognized the voices of the two individuals through the vent above the locked door to his workspace, but what were they saying? And why were they speaking in such a worried tone?

Irons crept closer to the official entryway to his office, not finding it strange that he was trying to avoid detection even though he was supposed to be in the environment where he was chief. Feeling proud of his ability to use stealth, it didn't occur to him that the two people outside his door heard the floor underneath his feet creaking.

It was only when he placed his ear against the vertical frame that the man who was dressed in a suit and tie realized that he was listening to a hushed conversation between two of his officers. But why were they talking as if they were worried and desperate to not be overheard?

Unknown to him, officers Shakahnna Warren and Eric Donnelly were grinning broadly as they knew that their target was exactly where they wanted him, and thus recited the pre-planned conversation in earnest.

"I don't think he be's stable!", the redhead began, biting her tongue to avoid laughing out loud.

"Don't you think I know that?", the older man followed, "A loose cannon like that? All I know is that I wanna stay the hell _out_ of his way! I'm not getting in Redfield's bad books, man! I don't even _want_ to imagine what he's planning to do with all those sub-machine guns he bought from Kendo's".

"Did you see what he did to Elran? Imagine what he could do if he lost it?", the teenager replied, "I just don't feel safe with him around! Just because they're not firing him because they're worried of him coming back here and going postal, that's no excuse to keep him here!".

"All I know is that they better do something to control that temper of his, or else I'm suing these managerial clowns for creating an unsafe environment", the more experienced cop deviated from the script by improvising his lines, "Especially now that he started drinking, I don't want to be on the job when he shows up here and had one too many the night before! So unless Irons wants a damn lawsuit on his hands, he'll keep that son of a bitch as placid as possible".

"I think a lawsuit's the least of the chief's worries if Redfield comes in here with a sub-machine gun, Eric", Shakahnna sighed in mock exhaustion, "One more idiot here who pisses him off, and we'll _all_ pay for it. Why don't they just _fire_ him already?!".

"That prick probably has friends in high places, and firing someone is already next to impossible, Shak, with that damn permanent contract and all. You _know_ that", Donnelly explained with a sigh of his own, "Or, whoever's in charge here that Irons answers to is _also_ afraid of Redfield's temper, or afraid of what his goon friends from the Air Force will do if Redfield ever ends up offing himself".

"Jeez! Have you fucking _seen_ those guys?!", the teenager continued on cue, "Fucking armed anarchists _WORKING_ for the government? Just waiting to wage war their own personal war with anyone who fucks with one of theirs? I had a run-in into one, and he picked me up with one hand!".

With his ear still pressed against the office door, Irons' body tensed involuntarily. This was the last thing he needed, as if having Umbrella breathing down his neck and accusing him of not earning his pay wasn't already bad enough. And the chief knew well what his second employer did to staff members that it disapproved of.

Thus now, on top of that worry, he also had to contend with this loose cannon who went by the name of Chris Redfield. Was it true that Umbrella was actually afraid of making the former Air Force man disappear? If so, what was to keep Redfield from one day snapping and taking out his frustrations on Irons himself, or asking one of his friends to do it?

The worried Police chief began breathing again when he caught the tail end of his officers' conversation. It was something about how they better get back to work and stop making it obvious that they were talking about Redfield's presence, lest the STARS member should learn of it and confront them. So while Warren and Donnelly hurried back to their post, the older man shakily returned to his desk and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

This wasn't turning into a good day at all, which was near the end of an already-bad summer.

What was he going to do about this Redfield problem? Could something as simple as a command to the rest of the RPD to leave the Alpha member and the rest of his damn friends alone do the trick? Or would the solution need to be more complicated?

He sighed. As if there was any guess as to which solution would be needed. Weren't simple solutions ineffective by default in real life anyway?

Whatever he decided, however, Irons knew that he better make it fast, as even more urgent issues were waiting to be addressed for Umbrella.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Albert Wesker tried to scream for the thousandth time, but like before, no sound emanated out of his mouth. He tried to concentrate harder on seeing where he was, but the environment was unchanged, that being a pitch black room with no windows, where no light was present.

He couldn't even feel the floor, or anything else for that matter. While he could definitely sense the presence of his arms, legs, hands and fingers, he couldn't use those body parts to touch anything, least of all himself.

The extremely frustrated Umbrella scientist tried to throw himself against whatever invisible barrier had to be somewhere in front of him, but felt himself being unable to move, again. This was impossible, of course, as he should've been rested enough from his physical ordeal in the mansion to wake up days, or even weeks, ago.

How long had it been since he had found himself in his floating hell of a prison? It's not like he could see a clock to tell time. It was an invisible place that made him feel like he was stuck in water, except that there was no liquid around. In fact, there was nothing around at all, which made the situation infuriating, as the scientist was unable to deduce the explanation for being ensnared .

All his meticulous machinations for his awakening were halted. All the work and deals requiring his attention, where he knew already precious time had been lost. The near-immortality and all the enhanced abilities that he was looking forward to possessing - none of it was happening because he was stuck in this horrible place. And why was he blind, his senses incapacitated? Why was his voice out with his grasp?

This was a new hell, never having had happened before. He was always able to wake up and find himself in the real world before, the rare times when he had to yield his body consciousness to the weaker other half of his being when he had pushed himself to his limit.

But a short rest always resolved that obstacle and then gave him control of his body again. And that couldn't be an issue now that was the sole occupant.

His usual patience wearing thin, the anger led to him wanting to snarl and rush towards the wall that should've been in front of him again, and of course he failed to do either.

Was it possible that Birkin's experimental formula had failed?

Wesker thought about the predicament as best he could. Not that the situation was under his control.

No, that couldn't be the case. He clearly remembered waking up briefly and giving the test subject an overdue dose of fear, and loving the sensation of the super speed his body possessed. Then, he had slipped back into unconsciousness, most likely due to the trauma of being killed and revived while being solely in charge. And then afterwards, there was this.

A brief moment of worry passed through Wesker's mind. He supposed this could've happened if the inferior psyche had not been removed, and then found the stash of pills kept in his cabin, the ones that had the effective result of suppressing him and allowing his hated other half full control of his consciousness.

For another brief moment, the Umbrella scientist wished he hadn't stored that medication in the hideout. It would be useful for the purpose of researching and developing another drug that suppressed his rival and allowed him full control. Not that his research had any time to be done anyway, with his commitments with Umbrella, HCF and then the RPD.

But what he was thinking was ridiculous, Wesker willed himself to calm down. His other cop half wasn't alive, and thus couldn't be responsible for this predicament, not when he had switched control to the RPD captain as he saw the Tyrant approaching him. It was a huge coincidence that Warren had found his body and returned him to the cabin, but even her finding of the drugs couldn't help the RPD official when death had occurred.

It was a mystery how the loathsome female had learned the location of his hideout. Could the information have been passed on before her kidnapping, and Wesker not have remembered that conversation?

Maybe. Then again, how was any of this speculation helping him solve the current puzzle and returning him to the real world that he craved?

Another attempt to growl came and went, and like before, nothing was heard.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"So STARS has been reduced to four members now", captain Wesker paraphrased the bad grammar that Shakahnna just used to describe the situation at the RPD, noting that there were times when even someone with his IQ had trouble understanding her words.

And why was his head hurting all of a sudden? It shouldn't have been so uncomfortable for him, even after the active week he had, considering he had gotten several hours of rest.

"Donnelly be's saying that Chris told him that Richard and Brad quit for good, uhuh, that's what I said", the redhead confirmed as they both remained seated on either side of the sofa, "But not really four, Weskie, cause they've got you and you are like ten people at once".

"I'm not at headquarters on an official basis", the man in the sunglasses countered, "I'm also not bearing the brunt of Umbrella's spin doctoring against them. That makes those four alone and without me".

The stress of having to admit that only intensified the cranial stress.

"Things are a _bit_ better now that we told Irons about Chris' propensity for mass murder", the young woman smirked to herself, "Well, we didn't actually tell Irons, but me and Eric stood outside his door and shouted about it. It was awesome. We could hear him shitting himself, even though we were on the other side of the door. Next thing we know, Chris is being left alone more".

"I'm glad you were of use for Redfield and the others, then", the former captain pointed out.

"Besides, you being there right now wouldn't do much for the four STARS anyway, Weskie. Not considering how much they all hate you right now", she absentmindedly continued, not noticing the grimace of pain that appeared on his face as she finished her statement.

"Will you please stop mentioning that?!", an unusually aggravated Wesker barked back, his headache getting worse still.

The answer was strange enough for her to stare at him for an instant, but his demeanour quickly calmed, and the former RPD agent rubbed his forehead as he smiled at her.

Unknown to Shakahnna, the terrible headache that was previously plaguing captain Wesker was gone, and so was the Police official himself.

----------------------------------

From within the black, invisible prison that was the RPD agent's subconscious, the second Wesker sneered a noiseless cry of triumph and relief as his surroundings shattered and he found himself back in control. Suddenly, the former Umbrella scientist was sitting on a couch in the living room of his cabin, and the redhead who was supposed to be his living data for the HCF was sitting a mere three feet away.

Wesker inhaled slowly and then exhaled through his mouth, glad to be able to use his own lungs again. No doubt that the experience of being detained in that unpleasant place was one that he had no use to repeat, but he had a feeling that this particular event would make up for it.

So he allowed himself a genuine smile.

---------------------------------

"My apologies, miss Warren, I am merely… distressed… over my inability to help the STARS", Wesker smoothly expressed regret, choosing his words carefully so as to sound exactly like the less educated counterpart from the RPD would, and trying hard to not smile at the absurdity of what he said, "And reminding me of it constantly doesn't improve my situation".

"That be's OK, Weskie", that infuriating smile had returned on Shakahnna's face, indicating she was completely oblivious to the transformation as the older man was still enjoying the sensation of being back in his body.

Momentarily turning his hands into fists, Wesker than relaxed into his part of the couch, smiling again at the prospect of having so many great plans in his head, and wondering which he would like to carry out first. He was somewhat surprised that he was physically tired, even now. Such fatigue was reminiscent of intense physical activity and, since the mansion, he had been effectively paralyzed. So the reason behind his weariness was a mystery. No matter, though, as he could feel himself become more rested and energetic with every moment that passed. Thus, the main question that remained was whether he should ask the redhead to leave and pursue his late contacts with HCF right now. Although the temptation to indulge in some sadism with an individual he despised was immensely appealing. Along the way, he casually passed his right hand over his waistline, nonchalantly checking to see if the Desert Eagle was still there, and feeling the sensation of the metal weapon in its rightful place.

"So, miss Warren, do tell me", the older man's curiosity about events he'd missed while incapacitated prompted his next statement, "How are your parents?".

"Oh, well, Michael's always either in City Hall or _working_ from his office in the mansion", Shakahnna recollected, "So the main time to see him is during public events and the like".

"I take it you'd like to spend more time with your father", Wesker feigned interest in that topic, not making it obvious that he cared nothing about news of the city's mayor, but wished to know about Elena Warren instead, "So if he's normally absent, do you get to spend time with your mother, at least? What about _Elena's_ job?".

"No, no, Weskie", the girl shook her index finger in his face in a friendly manner, "You promised you wouldn't hurt them".

It took a moment for Wesker to understand what Shakahnna was talking about, but the meaning of her words became clear after a few seconds, which led to a burning sensation in his retina and those eyes flashing red involuntarily. The former Umbrella scientist had all the memories of his other half, and it wasn't a surprise that he couldn't recall anything since the mansion, considering the trauma his body suffered there. But this would confirm that the teenager was talking about the RPD captain as being the person who promised to not hurt her foster parents, which was an incident that had not occurred before being killed by the Tyrant.

That only led to one logical conclusion, that the other half was not dead. He'd been awake the whole time that Wesker was imprisoned. The mere realization of this information caused his blood to boil. The inferior individual and the flame haired experiment had been discussing Umbrella secrets, and is that why Wesker was so tired? All due to the unworthy activities of a deluded, self righteous ingrate, hunting down Umbrella staff, even while leaving the Warrens alone because of their step-daughters' attachment to them?

Wesker's eyes flashed red again, though it was out of rage, which ordinarily was an emotion he felt very little.

"Weskie, you can throw a tantrum all you want", the teenager continued, noticing that he wasn't having as light-hearted a discussion as her, "We had a deal".

The older man needed more information, and he couldn't afford to allow this source of updates to slip through his fingers, so it took all his self-restraint to bring himself under control.

"You're correct, of course", he agreed, giving a smile that was fake this time, and not one that was genuine due to malice.

The action caused an odd look from the redhead, as if uncertain as to why he was agreeing with her so quickly. Perhaps those two often indulged in unnecessary rhetoric where her input should merely have been discarded. What he knew now would have to be addressed with the utmost urgency.

"But that's for another time, miss Warren", the man in the shades continued while standing up, "For now, there is something I wish for you to take a look at, and inform me of your opinion".

"What's that, Weskie?", Shakahnna yawned while placing her hands inside her pockets to keep them warm.

Wesker took a hold of a random folder and walked around the back of the couch, giving the impression of wishing to hand the item to the teenager from behind her seated position. As he approached the back of the teenager's head, he extended the folder with his left hand, while his right grip was getting ready to administer a chokehold to cut off her supply of air and render her unconscious.

The teenager accepted his offer from her position with her own left hand as she remained in the same area on the sofa, and looked up to lock eyes with him while the Umbrella scientist was staring down at her. She smiled at him first, which caused him to smile back as he was about to wrap his right fingers around her throat.

Unfortunately, though, Wesker next heard the whoosh of air as the younger woman had withdrawn a retractable nightstick from her pocket with the right hand. The weapon being extended to its full height, Wesker's eyes only had the time to widen in surprise before the metal edge slammed into his head. Seeing spots as pain screamed in his face and the broken sunglasses flew off, the older man was staggering backwards when Shakahnna let go of his folder and her nightstick, and grabbed his left wrist with both her hands.

The rookie cop pulled the older man in her lowered direction, causing his chin to impact against the back of the couch before he was thrown forward, until his back landed on the cabin's floor. Groaning with equal parts of pain and frustration, Wesker was still trying to get up, and cursing the exhaustion which slowed his body down, when he felt the teenager kicking him in the head.

He looked up to see that she was standing at her full height by now, and she kicked him in the face a second time, before angrily placing her full and hefty weight on his throat. While the scientist was trying to counter this particular attack, he had a brief glance of the nightstick that was back in her hand now, which she used to swing downward against his skull again.

It was the last thing Wesker saw before being rendered unconscious.


	59. Chapter 49 Surface Tension

When Wesker initially opened his eyes, the only variable he could distinguish was that there was currently daylight outside. He hadn't seen a clock before being rendered unconscious, so there was no measurement to compare how much time had passed. However, it was unlikely that his body needed long to recover from any defeat, humiliating or otherwise. Even if his feeble-minded counterpart had driven it to exhaustion with whatever ineffectual feats he had achieved.

The first embarrassment of being beaten by a lab specimen was soon followed by a second one, this being that Wesker was unable to move his body at all, a similar sensation to being glued to the floor of his cabin. Raising his head to take a better look at the restraints, he was surprised yet again since his awakening, as there were no chains holding him down, as expected. No ropes, even. Instead, there were only green glowing threads, not much thicker than a hair, wrapped firmly around his four limbs and torso, and this strange substance didn't allow for any movement whatsoever, despite his best efforts to break them with his superior strength.

A further glance around the living room removed doubts about the person who had put this restraint together, as Shakahnna was seated nearby on a couch, clearly waiting for him to awaken, though secure that those bonds wouldn't break. So Wesker exhaled, soon not feeling worried because, unlike himself, the teenager was not ruthless, and while he didn't have a way out just now, one would surely present itself in the future.

"What, you think we haven't been waiting for this? For you to show your fucking ugly face?", an annoyed redhead greeted him first.

Wesker grinned back infuriatingly, still feeling more in control of his emotions than she was, despite their positions. It was so agitating that she was prompted to reach over and punch him in the mouth.

"You think I wouldn't fucking notice? You smug fucking cunt that it wouldn't be obvious? He's my best friend, you think I'd not notice the change? Second only to my lover and you thought I was just gonna not know?", the girl growled next while returning to the sofa,

A moment of angry silence.

"You're so much more relaxed than Weskie is. He's always tense. Plus, you gave me a fake smile. He never does. Shame on _you_ for thinking you were being all subtle, thou fucker".

"When I cut off your arms and legs, I wonder if your opinion of him will remain intact", Wesker smirked back before curiosity convinced him to pay more attention, "Still, though, I digress. The best plans are always laid in simplicity, and those are _supposed_ to be the ones that are guaranteed to succeed. However, I did not count on this, him, or _you_".

His own aggravation at the teenager's interference finally appeared on his facial expression as he finished talking, and that felt satisfying to his tormentor.

"Now, now, Weskie, no need to be irritable", it was her turn to have fun at his expense, "See, it's not so smart, just lure Weskie to the lab cause he's gonna freak when he sees me what with everyone else being fucking dead. Let out the big white thing. Then, you let Weskie wake up, just in time to see that monster gutting him and probably the rest of STARS too. Just wish I could let him kick your head in, instead of me".

Wesker saw no point in denying the allegations.

"I couldn't understand what you be'd playing at though, cause it'd let you die in the explosion at the mansion too", Shakahnna continued from her seated position, "Until it was obvious that you didn't be surprised by your new abilities when I saw you last time. In fact, you seemed to expect them. So you hit yourself up with something, that lets you die and then come back all superhuman-like, but _without_ Weskie to piss on your parade cause you already murdered him?".

It occurred to the older man that she wasn't as stupid as she had made him believe.

"But something fucked up", the teenager added, "And that something was _me_, ha ha, which is great cause fuck knows you shouldn't get anything you want. It's far too good not to tell you it before you remember yourself".

"Your arrogance is astounding", an irritated Wesker finally shot back, his facade of calm and collected beginning to slip, "You were little more than a bit player. He is always is the crux of the situation despite the abhorrent naivety, as is his trademark. Placing a rocket launcher in the STARS helicopter was the undoing of my masterpiece. A grenade pistol would cause little more than surface damage, but instead of annihilating the _lovely_ STARS who survived the encounter, the Tyrant is dead and _STARS_ is alive!".

"Then good sir from us both, I am so fucking glad", Shakahnna gave him a fake salute.

"You will regret this", an even more angry Wesker hissed, trying to fight past the restraints and having had no success, "His return at this stage is impossible and hindering my goals will not achieve your own. Or _his_!".

The fit of anger gone quickly, he grimaced in a relaxed position again, no longer looking at his antagonist, but staring up at the ceiling in as comfortable a pose as he could afford.

"Perhaps you should extend some sympathy towards him", the scientist continued, "My actions benefitted more than merely my own agenda. On occasion he was the beneficiary of those actions you so scorn".

"Stop being a cunt", the rookie cop asked, not surprised that she wasn't learning anything new from the captive, and was now only waiting for him to be returned to his sleep so her friend could return.

"It is unlikely you will recall a member of the criminal fraternity named Bradshell who so callously shot one of the RDP's own", he sneered at the recollection, "Regardless, I am sure this anecdote will be a stroll down memory lane for our mutual acquaintance. I wonder if he will be able to suppress the guilt which will come from knowing that I had shot Francine? Bradshell, of course, was unable to keep his unwanted opinions to himself and make this information general knowledge".

He paused to chuckle.

"Well, for his trouble Umbrella paid him a small visit in his jail cell. He was lucky enough to experience the same implement you had", Wesker continued revelling in his schedenfreud, "Though it was amusing to watch someone attempt a signature with only two remaining fingers on his hand. Of course, prison officials had no need to release the fact that three of his fingers on the left hand were missing and those wounds were cauterized".

The scientist had a laugh louder at the new memory.

"What are you talking ab…?", was all Shakahnna got to say as she reached forth and slapped him hard to quiet down the sadistic laughter.

A flash of light appeared in her mind's eye as soon as she touched him, and a change of scenery followed. The teenager was witnessing another event from the past, as she had done before about the family who was devoured by zombies when she was restrained in the lab.

This time, the scene was outdoors in the daytime, officer Wesker was struggling for control of a handgun with an armed suspect, while a younger, uniformed female officer accompanied him. Shakahnna had never seen this other officer before, but guessed that her age was the same as agent Valentine's, and this event clearly took place before Wesker was promoted to captain, due to the rank on his own clothes.

Before long, Wesker knocked his foe insensate, while his partner was quickly approaching both men with her own handgun drawn, in case the suspect was to resist further. It was then that Shakahnna saw Wesker shaking his head momentarily, and she knew right away that the RPD agent was gone and his twin from Umbrella was in charge.

The new Wesker stood over Bradshell's prone figure, casually taking the criminal's handgun with him, and addressed the female officer in the process.

"It's nothing personal, I hope you understand", the older man gave an insincere smile, "I just need to be a hero".

"What are you...", were the only words the young cop got to utter before Wesker shot her in the head with Bradshell's weapon.

With Shakahnna's head recoiling in disgust at what she had witnessed, she continued watching the scientist as he then crouched back near the criminal's unconscious body.

Wesker then placed Bradshell's weapon back down, and simply let his counterpart from the RPD take over again.

Shakahnna snapped her eyes open, now back in the cabin, with her most hated adversary still tied to the floor with magic, and the smug look on his face telling her that he viewed the outcome as an achievement.

"I really should be surprised but yet here we are", the girl could only utter as she restrained from beating him again, not that punches or kicks seemed to be hurting him much anyway, as he even seemed to be enjoying it sometimes, "Poor Weskie never had a chance with you around, did he? And neither did anyone else".

"Well, Carnovaley _was_ something special", he sarcastically replied, "After all, without her contribution, there would have been no promotion and thus no STARS, and then no combat data".

"I'm not the first person you tortured, am I?", a subdued Shakahnna slumped further into her couch as she asked the question that came to her mind, almost wishing he would prove her wrong.

"It's surprising you feel the need to ask", the former Umbrella agent nonchalantly recalled his past conquests, as it seemed to be as good a way to spend time now as ever, "You recall Penny, do you not? Always cowing to her mistress Elena Warren. Certain members of White Umbrella are considered as your peers and, as such, it would be most unwise to remove them. Instead, you remove their trusted assistant, leaving them alone and vulnerable".

Another pause to smile at his annoying recollections.

"It was a surprisingly long session, four hours long", Wesker then continued, "That old dog was stronger than I expected, credit where it is due. Constantly she refused my hospitality and would not take my offer of employment. I assured her that I would cease as soon as she swore commitment to me against Elena herself. But eventually she was able to see sense. They _always_ do. So I recorded her allegiance to me, and _then_ killed her, afterwards I sent the tape to Mrs Warren. I can't even recall how many times she simply begged me to…".

"Shut the fuck up!", Shakahnna interrupted with an order.

He breathed in and out gladly, pleased with the control he had in this conversation.

"Or what, miss Warren?", he locked eyes with her again as he finished, "You'll hit me again? Or should I say, hit _him_ again? Any damage you do to me will be felt by him later, you should know that by…".

Wesker suddenly froze in mid-sentence when he saw her tossing a pill in the air, the same drug that he was working on previously in unsuccessful efforts to do the opposite of what they achieved, which was to suppress his other half.

"Open up, Weskie!", she then angrily knelt next to him and forced his mouth open, pushing the pill past his teeth as he did.

Despite trying, the older man swallowed the pill against his wishes, and could already feel his presence in this world fading. The grim reality of what was waiting for him in the invisible prison of the other Wesker's subconscious was enough to cause him to bite his tongue in spite.

"You are going to come to regret your behaviour later, Ms Warren", was the last warning he angrily uttered before falling asleep.

He then snapped his eyes open again, and Shakahnna recognized the former RPD captain as he was still bound to the floor of his cabin. A simple click of her fingers made the magical binds that restrained him disperse into thin air, so she first stood up and helped her friend rise back to his feet.

There was much to talk about, again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sergeant Neil Carlson sighed while on patrol in the northeast section of the city, except that the ten-year old veteran of the RPD was doing so while in the sewers below Raccoon City. It didn't help that one of his colleagues had radioed him to learn of his whereabouts while on duty, and Carlson found himself having to explain what he was doing there.

"You just have to find someone else for your damn stakeout, Yuen", the patrolman repeated, getting more annoyed that he didn't know the reason for his presence in this dark and smelly environment, and having to justify it to someone else in the meantime, "Irons' orders were pretty clear. Someone has to patrol the eight parts of these fucking sewers 24/7. As if we're expecting goddamn tourists to come down here and be mugged by the mole people or something".

He coughed, the thick air and lack of good ventilation making it worse to concentrate.

"So what did you do to deserve _this_ assignment?", Yuen asked from the other end of the communication device.

"Who the fuck knows?", Carlson tried to only breathe in through his mouth as he lit his flashlight and pointed it in the direction ahead due to the lack of overhead bulbs, "And what are we _doing_ here in the first place? I _swear_ that chief's fucking schizo. One minute he tears into the STARS for being the assholes that they are and killing Joe, the next, we're not allowed to touch them or even tell them what scum they are for what they've done any more. One minute it's – stay out of the sewers on pain of fucking _death_, the next it's – patrol the sewers 24/7. Does that guy even know what planet he's _on_?".

"I'm not sure about that, man", his associate agreed from the other end, "So when do you finish over there?".

Carlson didn't reply, instead distracted by movement he saw off in the distance. He shone the flashlight directly into the area in question, thinking it must've been an animal who was lost, or possibly stuck somewhere. It was only when there was a sudden movement to avoid the beam of light that the officer realized he was staring at another person who ran away from thirty yards ahead of him.

"I'm an officer with the RPD!", the patrolman raised his voice while standing still and pressing his back against the wall, suddenly aware that he had to be careful, "Show yourself!".

No answer from the dark recesses he was staring at.

"Officer requesting back-up in block G, about seventy yards past the surface entrance. Possible trespasser", Carlson next spoke into his radio, and then put the device away after Yuen informed him that others were on their way there.

Withdrawing his handgun, he next jogged forward slowly, soon reaching the spot where the mysterious man vanished from his sight. Once there, he saw nothing more, but heard footsteps that were running away from his location still. So the patrolman began jogging after the trespasser, not having a clue as to the reason anyone would wish to break into a sewer, and deciding to delay the questions till he was back at the surface above.

It was another approximately fifty yards before he came across objects on the ground, which Carlson squatted next to so as to inspect them. The first was a sniper's rifle, complete with a very expensive-looking nightvision scope. The second was a box of what the officer guessed to be C4 explosives, so he stood back up and aimed the flashlight around him. Seeing nothing, he also heard no more noise, which wasn't a surprise, considering the sewers divided into four different sections immediately after this area. There was no way to guess which path the intruder had followed, and Carlton didn't feel safe running with the explosives that were by his feet, nor was he willing to leave them behind.

Exhaling loudly, the patrolman holstered his weapon, still turning back and forth with the flashlight, and seeing nothing the whole time now. He guessed there was nothing more to do than to wait for his associates to show up. Till then, he would just ask himself what on earth that person was doing here, and with all this equipment?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shakahnna Warren was in her adoptive parents' home, this being one of the few times she actually spent time there. In fact, at this moment, she remained seated on a chair, in the middle of her step-sister's bedroom, of all places, as Joanne was busy torturing her, or as Joanne saw it, cutting and styling the rookie cop's hair.

"How does _this_ look?", Joanne excitedly shoved a hand-held mirror in front of her client's face, having completed a task that took about half an hour, which was about 29 minutes too long for the seated customer.

"It's nice as far as hair goes", Shakahnna rolled her eyes, "But it's _hair_. Hard to get excited over it".

"Now, now", the taller girl chastised, "Stop your complaining. You knew you had to do this if I agreed to endure a session of your self-defence nonsense".

"This is true", the redhead complained, "But at no point did I agree to smile and take it like a bitch".

"You know, Shak, you don't _have_ to live with being ugly", the still-enthusiastic hair dresser continued, "I _know_ it's what you're used to, but, there _is_ another way".

"Is this your way of telling me I should love myself? Because it's really not working", a sigh followed from the captive customer.

"I try and try for you, and _this_ is the appreciation you show?", Joanne countered, "I don't understand! If I looked like you, I would be _begging_ for someone like me to help!".

Somewhere in the back of Shakahnna's mind, she considered the option of informing her step-sister that self-defence may one day be useful for the slender young woman, while nicer hair was never going to be useful to the rookie cop.

"Euthanize me, Joanne. It's really does be the only sensible and fucking humane thing to do", she uttered instead.

"_Chino_ will appreciate your hair!", the taller girl countered.

"If Chino appreciates my hair, I'm gonna kick him in the fucking nuts", Shakahnna stated to herself more than to the hair stylist as she stood up, "Anyway, I got a date with him pretty soon, so see you next week?".

"You know where I am if you change your mind and need feathered", Joanne offered as she returned to her closet and the dozens of clothes that were inside, "I guess I shouldn't ask you on what matches for my date with Sean".

"Green goes well with more green", the redhead sniggered at the thought of her seeking out her step-sister for hair or fashion advice, "Talk to you then, Jo".

She left the other girl's bedroom and headed downstairs, first retrieving the jacket from where Mr Bustleton was holding on to it. Of course it was left without anything in any of its pockets, not that the butler wasn't trusted, but the clients who employed him ensured that the redhead was not going to be careless enough to leave anything there, whether from work or even from her home at Chisholm's address.

Both the middle-aged employee from the Warren mansion and Sean Meega himself were sharing a drink and a laugh in the corner of the kitchen, which warranted a goodbye, at least. So promises to see Mr Bustleton soon, and wishes of good luck to Meega with his bravery in taking Joanne hand-gliding, the teenager headed outside and hoped that she wouldn't have to sit in the mansion's grounds.

Sure enough, Chisholm was already in his car, just outside the Warren mansion, and greeted his girlfriend for the planned get-together they had for the evening, along with a handful of other officers and their friends. The conversation with him had to be more interesting than it had been with Joanne, as Shakahnna told herself. She just hoped that her step-sister was wrong, and Chisholm didn't spend all evening complimenting her hair.

Joanne had to be wrong about that. She just had to.

----------------------------------

"Chino, do you know who Francine Carnival was?", the redhead asked Chisholm from the front passenger seat while he was driving her and officer Donnelly to the cinema that was next door to the Grill 13 bar.

The young woman was not sure as to the best time to ask that question, so she did it once their initial conversation on the day's events had ended.

"You mean Carnovaley, right?", the young man recalled as they neared their destination, "She was a cop who died while patrolling with captain Wesker back when Wesker was still a regular beat cop. Why do you ask?".

"Oh, just came across her name in a trial document, is all", the teenager lied as the car reached the multiplex, "Was wondering why she wasn't around the precinct".

"Yeah, _that's_ why", Donnelly offered from the backseat while the vehicle was being parked next, "Well, _that's_ why, unfortunately. She was shot by some prick who later ended up killing _himself_ in prison. Too bad he hadn't done that _before_ he was arrested".

As the three off-duty officers climbed out of the car, Shakahnna said nothing more on the subject, what she had been told while Wesker was restrained to the floor having been confirmed, unfortunately. It was by that time that she decided to mention nothing about that topic to the man in the shades, either, as the other Wesker already had too much guilt on his mind as it was.

Tonight seemed to be a time for rest and relaxation anyway, as the trio were here to meet officer Whey, along with agents Redfield, Valentine and Chambers from STARS team. As the seven individuals initially met up outside the movie theatre, the redhead noticed how different they looked while not in official uniforms, though she tried to guess how many of these cops was still armed somewhere underneath their clothing.

"So, what's on tap for the choice of movies?", Chisholm asked the group, "Action, horror, romance…?".

"Ha!", Donnelly's reply at the last option indicated that would not be happening.

"…or drama, or comedy too", the young man who was interrupted then finished.

"Anything with a body count is good for me, dude", Donnelly gave his opinion.

"You gotta have a story too", Whey added.

"Why?!", the incredulous look on Donnelly's face indicated he had never considered such a needless option before.

"_I_ personally don't care what, long as I'm with _you_ guys", Chambers added in her own turn as they made their way to the cinema entrance, "Though, Eric, I need to ask you what's going on with your girlfriend. I was hoping she'd be here _today_ to explain herself, but she's not".

"That crazy chick's not my _anything_, OK?", the older man pointed out in his defence, "But why do you ask?".

"Listen, maybe she just had too much to drink or something", the medic explained with a shy smile on her face, "But last night, I was in some club whose name I _still_ can't remember with Jill and Chris. It had taken me _ages_ to come up with the courage to wear this backless top that I had bought back in high school, but one look at it and she squeezed my butt when I was walking around!".

"Again, man, I have _no_ idea", Donnelly claimed as he reached into his wallet to pay, "You gotta ask _her_".

"Maybe she has a thing for STARS", Valentine volunteered as the group was reading over the titles of available movies, "You seemed to join a club last night, sweetie. The club of STARS members who've been groped by Deborah. She felt up my chest _last_ week, you know".

"What?! You too?", Chamber's shocked eyes exclaimed.

"It wasn't _bad_ or anything", Valentine smirked as she wrapped both her arms around Redfield's elbow in anticipation of what she was about to say, "I might've even _gone_ for her offer if I wasn't already _with_ someone".

"What?!", it was now Redfield's turn to be surprised.

"Alright, alright!", Donnelly spoke up as he chose the film to see on everyone else's behalf without asking for their opinion, and paid for everyone's ticket himself, "We have minors here, you know. Just ask my partner here. So everyone move it inside, already, but the candy's up to _you_ to buy, remember".

It was only then that most members of the group noticed that the older cop had already purchased the tickets, and protests began resounding at the head of the line, where they were. Shakahnna sighed with a smile as she squeezed Chisholm's hand, and he smiled back. This promised to be a fun, if active night, and they could've definitely used the distraction from daily life.

"I'm not gonna apologize for our latest run-in from last week", Redfield whispered to the redhead while temporarily separating from Valentine who had clearly given him his marching orders, making sure to have the issue be resolved, "What I _will_ say is that I didn't like myself when I said all that about you not knowing your head from your other body parts. That's as close as you're gonna get".

The remark caused another smile to appear on her face. This was going to be a fun night for sure.


	60. Chapter 50 Isolation

_A/N: So kids, quite a long time in coming. But two heart surgeries later, here we are. Alive and well AND an update. Thank you very much for the continued support guys and I hope you enjoy the chapter!_

-

Elena Warren's day just wasn't getting any better. After an atrocious start this morning, she now received reports that a masked intruder broke into the seventh Umbrella laboratory of southern Raccoon City, and killed its Director of Quality Assurance. The mystery man apparently crushed the throat of a guard, before finding the DQA and literally ripping his right arm off and then beating him with it. Such ridiculous overkill and unnecessary detail to give her in the report. At least that's what Umbrella assumes had happened, considering no other murder weapon was found. The autopsy was inconclusive as to the DQA's cause of death – whether it was loss of blood from the arm socket or blunt trauma to the skull.

Mrs Warren swore under her breath as she angrily threw the report back on her desk. As if the news that the Umbrella-targeting madman remained not apprehended wasn't bad enough. Now, it was worse because this serial killer had just successfully pursued someone who was the same rank as herself formerly. Naturally, before her promotion to vice-president Claymont's old position, but because of all the upheaval, her security had not improved at all. So she decided to ignore the mounting work that her lab was falling behind in, and picked up the report of this latest murder again.

It seems that the security cameras caught sight of someone who was dressed all in black as he literally punched his way through a brick wall, before starting his rampage in the complex. Most guards were dealt with in a swift, but non-lethal, way, with most of them being knocked out by the unarmed assailant, this despite the fact that all guards were armed with the latest firearms, and some wore heavy armaments. The non-lethal response did not extend to one particular sentry, however, as that guard was the first fatality, and the napping DQA was the second. That poor man was woken up and brutalized for a long sixty seconds by the sadistic little nobody who took his time and tortured director Jamison. Unlike his previous encounters with the Umbrella staff, which were quick and efficient, the assailant then intentionally kept the DQA alive to physically hurt him longer, stopping three times to render unconscious whatever WU guards tried to intervene, and then returned to tormenting Jamison again.

Finally, after this superhuman loser was finished tormenting the poor man, he dealt him with the fatal blow.

Having spent enough time rereading the same parts of the report, Mrs Warren put it back on her overcrowded desk, this time more gently, feeling more exasperation than anger. One part of her felt that she was being overwhelmed with these new responsibilities, and worried for her own personal safety with this man in black running around as he carried his strange hatred of Umbrella with him. Another part of her, however, was adamant that she would not give in to the pressure of her employer's responsibilities, as she could surely handle this situation if her predecessor had done so before her.

Of course, that Claymont had previous fallen victim to this rampaging madman was a constant worry to Mrs Warren, as she still had no idea what kind of assailant Umbrella was dealing with here. So when would it be her time to meet this merciless monster who had nothing better to do with his time than to kill WU staff?

She didn't know what good it might do, but Mrs Warren opened the box which arrived on her desk first thing this morning, provided by her assistant at her behest. Inside it, she picked up the black-coloured M93R pistol and accompanying 20-round clip, and loaded the weapon. She knew enough to arm the firearm and undo the safety, at least, and had already been told that it was the most advanced handgun Umbrella had for its guards, firing bursts of three 9-millimetre rounds. Now all she had to do was practice using it efficiently, if she could just find some time in her already hectic schedule.

Now, to make matters worse, Mrs Warren learned that the assignment she had volunteered for during her last meeting with the powers that be behind the one-way mirror was a failure, at least during its first attempt. The soldier from Umbrella Special Forces who was personally assigned to infiltrate William Birkin's underground compound had his mission interrupted by an RPD patrolman, and thought it better to leave his equipment behind. As annoying as his action were, Mrs Warren had to admit that they made sense, lest he were to run the risk of being arrested with explosives, and his identity linked to Umbrella. So this vice-president had decided to not punish that employee now, and planned to have him retry his infiltration of the Birkin labs, with or without the use of deadly force. The USF soldier would be told that he could take reinforcements with him if needed, and forgo any attempts to be subtle, as long as Birkin's silence with WU was broken, and the virus that was expected from the scientist was retrieved.

But a nagging thought occurred in Mrs Warren's mind. Just what was an RPD officer doing in the sewers at the time of her agent's mission anyway? The officer could not have been there by chance. So did Irons order him to be there, and was it to protect Birkin's lab from the very attempt that was tried against it by WU?

Irons was supposed to be loyal to Umbrella first, as was expected of everyone in the company's employ. So was he siding with the Birkins in their intended ignorance of WU's attempts to contact them? After all, by now, even Annette Birkin was no longer responding to summons and had stopped appearing at meetings.

If so, then the RPD chief would have to be dealt with quickly and properly.

It was something for her to make a note to herself, so she wouldn't forget to mention it the next time she was in the presence of her superiors. Especially with so many different things on her mind all at once, it was better to be safe rather than sorry.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"This is what I know", Shakahnna handed the folder and its approximately 100 pages of typed notes and diagrams to officer Valentine as both women were walking outside the RPD.

The redhead had asked to see the STARS agent somewhere other than the machine expert's office due to her ongoing relationship issues with the older officer's colleagues. Redfield still pissed her right fucking off by saying she had an ego, Chambers became upset or irritated at her whenever she upset the marksman, and Burton always found her to be too rambunctious a character from the beginning. Polite way of saying he found the room too small with her presence. And such a disagreement was fine, as she thought to herself that they were good guys, and she was one too, but that didn't mean they all had to have an orgy together.

Regardless, though, for all those reasons, it was more convenient to meet outside.

Besides, the teenager wanted to indulge in a little bit of her dirtiest secret, which was that she sometimes enjoyed reading. So the pair were heading towards Blue Mountain Books as the conversation proceeded around her latest offering to Valentine, to pass on to the rest of the STARS.

"Most of these creatures I recognize from the mansion", the older female skimmed through the pictures in the thick folder as they made their way further down the sidewalk, glad that few people at the RPD knew where the STARS member was, and fewer still cared, "But there's a couple I _don't_ recognize. This giant spider, for one. I'm guessing it's the same one that captain Marini had destroyed?".

"Uh huh", the teenager confirmed, having already informed her of the visions in the Umbrella lab, without mentioning how she came across the sighting, "That was still the most impressive thing I'd ever seen".

"Also guessing there aren't a lot of them running around, not considering their mass and how much food they would need for their upkeep", Valentine continued, "Which is definitely a good thing, believe me. The less of these… black tigers?... we have in the world, the better".

"I'm not sure if it was industrial, or just an accident when the virus hit", Shakahnna continued, still hoping she never had to see one of those monsters ever again, "I know the smaller arachnids were not, for what it's worth".

"Ah, yes, had a few run-in with those creepy crawlies. Much easier to take down than a black tiger that's the size of a studio apartment, and… hello…", Valentine stopped talking as they entered through the front door of the bookshop they were visiting while still officially on duty, "Haven't seen _this_ guy before. A BOW with a giant _tongue_?".

"Industrial and all", the teenager remembered as both women found a place to sit, "So someone intentionally created that thing, yeah".

"I know _more_ than one man who would pay _good_ money to have something like that use its tongue on them", Valentine added with a smirk, "And what are these addresses here?".

"List of more than two hundred homes, of people who have moved out of Raccoon City and sold their houses for fuck all", Shakahnna explained next as her colleague leafed through the pages further, "Not a surprise, staying here is mad, it's a shit tip. But what _is_ news, is that Umbrella bought every one of those homes, far below their usual market value, _of course_. A drive by several of them made it obvious why. Everyone is filled right up to the hilt by Umbrella staff".

"By who?", the machines expert inquired, lifting her attention off the sheets of paper.

"Umbrella's bitches, Jill", the teenager went on, "And armed to the teeth, too. Soldiers, mercenaries, whatever".

"What in the world _for_?", Valentine thought out loud as she closed the folder.

"My money is that Umbrella knows that it's gonna need them. Everyone is just fucking up so much, they expects things in Raccoon City to go to hell one day", the redhead offered, causing the STARS agent to clinch her teeth as she learned that officer Aitken's prediction was shared by others.

"Are you worried about living here?", the older woman asked next, the answer she expected from the rookie being as important as the data in the folder.

"Of course, my whole family is here, my only family is here", Shakahnna admitted, "But nothing else to do, leave and go _where_? I've been gathering up weapons for quite some time at home". The redhead added with a firm nod.

She stopped speaking for an instant when she noticed how that may sound to her colleague.

"We can always without question always use more guns. It's the rules", the younger woman then followed with a fake smile.

"So you're doing this in your off-time too?", Valentine commented, noticing the second similarity this girl had with Aitken, "Quite a Spartan existence you got there".

"HA!", Shakahnna drew attention from other patrons in the bookshop with her loud reply, and then quieted down, "Sorry. Just that it's not Spartan, Jill, not at all. I don't fuck little boys".

"Come again?".

"I watched a documentary on those guys", the teenager explained, the conversation having veered away from the necessary one about Umbrella, to one that was more of a social discussion, "Now you see obviously they quite liked fighting which I can respect but man those fuckers were totally mental. Like off their fucking heads. Couldn't have sex with their women because they were too used to being with men. In the end they couldn't sustain the actual citizen peoples. You totally shouldn't tell me that's your hobby. Even if it is. Which I really hope it's not".

"Ooookay…", the smirk on Valentine's face indicated she didn't want to know the details her associate was revelling to tell her.

A real smile appeared on the rookie's face as she locked eyes with the STARS agent, feeling more comfortable in the lack of dialogue between them, as opposed to the uneasy silence that occurred a few weeks ago, when the two of them started conversing.

"I'll leave you alone with that, then", Shakahnna next stood up and grabbed a book off a nearby shelf in the process, "It should make for interesting reading, at least".

"Thanks, Shak, and stay in touch", Valentine smiled again with a nod, and then watched the uniformed cop pay for the book at the counter, before the teenager left the shop altogether.

It allowed the older officer to skim through the pages that the helpful rookie had provided for her and the rest of her team. Even if the redhead wasn't a member of their team or someone who she could rely on, at least her loyalties were firmly in the right direction. That made her an ally to Valentine's side, whether she got on the nerves of the rest of her colleagues or not. It just meant that the STARS agent had more people to worry about if Aitken's and Warren's morbid prediction came true.

The Alpha team member then stopped looking through the data in the folder, suddenly noticing that at least some of the information here was the same as the paperwork that was left anonymously through Chris Redfield's mail slot. She had initially assumed that the teenager was the one who had left those previous files for herself and her paramour, and then didn't wish to tell her about it. But it didn't make sense for Shakahnna Warren to give her the first folder anonymously, and then give her the second one in the open, even though some of the images and schematics were copies of each other.

What did that mean? Was there another benefactor that the STARS were being helped by? And if so, then who was it?

Valentine couldn't really blame this other person for wanting to keep his or her identity hidden, considering how much hassle would be received from this city if one's position as a STARS supporter was made public. But it should've been a current or former Umbrella employee, and one that Valentine hoped she would be able to meet in person one day.

Did this mean that officer Warren was getting her information from this anonymous benefactor also, before passing it to STARS?

The brunette rubbed her hair and decided that she would ask the young woman herself instead of getting wrapped up in the "what if's" of the situation. There was more than enough to be done without spending the afternoon tying herself in knots.

For now, she had to see which of the information in this folder was not available in the previous paperwork that Redfield received. Then, she and her boyfriend would meet with Burton and Chambers to discuss what they learned and agree on their best course of action. With all the conversations the four of them had about their feelings and their worries for their personal safety, it would've been nice to make plans to actually chip away at their enemy's status in this city.

Any progress at this point would be a positive one, as opposed to the zero damage STARS was inflicting on Umbrella now. So better keep reading this large folder, and keep one hand idly over the holstered gun just to be sure that it was there, for the hundredth time this week.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Agent Chambers breathed out heavily as she was busy reviewing the dozens of sheets of notes that Redfield had literally dropped on her lap yesterday, saying they read like the Chinese language to him.

What was this? The fifth or sixth day that she had been living in Officer Burton's house after the older man's wife and children were evacuated to their relatives?

Or had it been more than a week now?

She really couldn't remember.

By now, the teenager's eyes had gone past the point of merely hurting, as they were sore about two hours ago, and her entire face was numb from her persistence in reading over these observations. And even though she knew she should get some rest, possibly via a warm bath, or even just a walk outside, as she was pretty useless in trying to decipher these notes at this point, the young woman had a stubborn streak racing through her mind.

Must've been Redfield's personality affecting her, she thought to herself, even though the older man himself had been interacting with her less and less recently. Both factors meant bad news, as far as Chambers could tell. The first was because she wasn't achieving anything useful due to being so tired, while reviewing files that were difficult to understand even when she was energetic and rested. However, she still refused to put the thick paperwork down. The second variable was problematic because the last few days had been an emotional strain on herself as well as her STARS colleagues. While Redfield used to knock on the bedroom door where she studied, and mostly lived, every hour, the Alpha team marksman recently reduced that interaction with her, only visiting twice a day.

In fact, so far today, Chambers hadn't seen Redfield at all, nor Valentine, for that matter. She had a short conversation with Burton while pouring some cereal into a bowl, and adding lukewarm orange juice on top of it for breakfast. Ordinarily, she'd prefer cold milk in her cereal, like any normal individual. However, and not surprisingly, all three STARS agent who recently moved into Burton's home, along with the weapons expert himself, were paying less attention to small details like that. Thus, the rather unappealing choice of eating cereal dry or with orange juice in the bowl.

The young woman knew that having all four of them moving in together made sense. It was both for safety reasons and to save money, which saved their cash so they could buy more weapons, as Valentine had suggested, in addition to acquiring information from less scrupulous sources, as was Redfield's recent obsession. Unfortunately, the emotional distance that had been separating herself from the other three officers was getting bigger and bigger, as each individual seemed preoccupied with his or her own objective.

And to make matters worse, Chambers now had no one to talk to outside of STARS. Her friends from college had returned to her previous rented house, but she found herself being unable to speak to them honestly, and began distancing herself from their company. So as a result, a recent rumour started where she was a home-wrecker, having moved into a much older man's house and prompting his wife and children to leave.

Chambers finally lifted her face from the notes that covered the entire surface of the desk in front of her. She had enough, and decided to leave this room to seek out some company, before she ran the risk of crying.

Not surprisingly, there wasn't much food in the kitchen, yet again. She'd have to do something about that, one day.

Also expectedly, she noticed that Jill wasn't around. But Barry was.

The oldest member of Alpha team was seated on a chair around the dining room table, staring intently, or dreamily, at photos that were scattered on the horizontal surface in front of him. He was so attentively looking over those pictures that he didn't even notice her coming into the dining room, probably too busy remembering the hours-long conversation he had with his wife when she called him on the phone last night.

"Hey", she got his attention by putting a gentle hand on his shoulder from behind.

The teenager had been so worked up that she hadn't notice the reason for their emotional distance was because they were all suffering from one problem or another. So even though the imminent danger wasn't present any more, it didn't mean that things were suddenly alright again.

"There was no room in my cupboard and my shoes needed a place to go, that's why I had to take these out to look at them", he abruptly turned towards her and placed one of his arms over the bulk of the photos.

Clearly embarrassed at being found spending his time in such a way, though he did not need to be, the medic only felt embarrassed back, causing her to stammer.

"Uh, sorry", Burton handed her a picture off the table, "This is my family here".

Looking down at the photo she accepted from him, the teenager saw a recent image of Burton, with the large man standing next to his shorter wife, with one young girl standing in front of the camera, and an even smaller female in her father's arms.

"You miss them?", Chambers gave the photograph back, unable to think of anything useful to say, other than pointing out the obvious, "I can imagine you would, even if it's for their own good to not be here right now".

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought to herself that giving the saddened man someone to talk to should've made her feel better. So why wasn't it?

The medic only sighed inwardly, keeping her eyes on Burton's face as she remembered it was because she was feeling unable to cope with her own loneliness and isolation, much less having energy to dedicate to making someone else feel better. Even if that other person was someone as great as Burton, or the other two STARS members, for that matter.

She rubbed her own eyes with her right fingers as she heard him answering, though didn't quite understand what he said. Surely, she had more patience than this when someone else was in need.

So why wasn't she able to prove it just now?

"Uh, I'm sorry, Barry", Chambers suddenly blurted out, unsure if her colleague from Alpha team realized that she hadn't listened to his reply, "I'm not feeling too good, I think. Maybe I could benefit from a lie-down for a little while".

"Oh, yeah, yeah, no problem", he quickly said back, either annoyed that she asked him how he felt without waiting for the reply, or just relieved that she'd leave him alone so he could go back to daydreaming while staring at the pictures of his loved ones.

Either way, Burton was probably not benefiting by someone else's company anyway, she told herself as an attempt to justify her leaving him alone as she gave a tired smile and turned away. Walking back towards the bed that was designated as hers, Chambers felt a mixture of anger and sadness at the same time, both towards herself, her colleagues and this damn city for putting them in this situation.

Going back into Polly's bedroom and closing the door behind herself, the teenager sat on the edge of the girl's previous bed, apathetically looking down at the floor as her body slumped.

Come to think of it, she should've probably felt angry at Umbrella too, since the pharmaceutical company was the one who started this entire mess. Too bad she was too wrapped up in these destructive emotions to think that far ahead.

And why was everything so boring around here?

Why was there always silence, with no conversations in this house, and not even with the sound of a television set or a radio to break the dull quiet that was everywhere?

The teenager almost wished that Umbrella would try to react with more aggression against her and her three colleagues. Why wasn't their foe trying to silence them by sending a group of attackers to kill them, or even releasing a horde of inhuman monsters through Burton's front door in an effort to shut the four STARS members up? That's definitely what Redfield would've preferred, finally allowing him to unleash some of his pent-up aggression via the use of the dozens of firearms and countless rounds of ammunition that were increasingly scattered around the house.

After all, it's probably what the younger of the two men from this household needed, since he just kept getting more and more enraged as time went on, it seemed. Not like his attempts to exercise were calming him down, as he kept lifting weights, or attacking the punching bag, or running a few miles on the treadmill that were located in the basement. Nor were all the times he spent having sex with Valentine, the two of them politely mentioning to the younger woman that they preferred to sleep in the same bed to save space, as if she was deaf and couldn't hear them engaging in intercourse almost every night in the next room.

No, he couldn't feel better by doing things like that, and nor could her other friends, the older woman and the man who owned this house almost being in a world of their own most of the time. And that left the man who she had viewed as her older brother to keep screaming and ranting on a regular basis, irately going on and on both before and after his workouts, and before and after he spent the night with his girlfriend.

So if Umbrella tried to attack them physically, maybe Redfield would be happier that way, finding his chance to pay their antagonists back for the way they interfered with his life, and the murders of his friends. And behind Redfield, Valentine and Burton would surely support his defence of the house, as the other two members of Alpha team were very capable with firearms, and very aggressive with them if needed, as the teenager had seen in the mansion.

But no, Umbrella was doing something worse.

Angry tears began racing down Chambers' face as she felt herself being unable to breathe as her throat tightened.

Instead of attacking them, Umbrella was leaving them alone, causing the four STARS members to sit in the silence of Burton's home while they were ignored. Alone to remember what happened in the past, as Redfield felt, and to become frustrated at not being able to protect others, as Burton felt, and to keep preparing for some war that wasn't starting, as Valentine did. Also alone to keep doubting themselves, and to question their own usefulness as they worked so hard against their own desires to just give up, only to receive complete silence from their environment when they refused to yield.

This continued, day after day, week after week, and they worked, and they planned, and they trained, and they prepared, and in Redfield's case, he angrily screamed and punched things, and none of it mattered or made a difference, as the four of them remained in this large, quiet house. No confirmation from outside that Umbrella was currently working to harm others and needed to be stopped, or where or how it could be stopped, or that it even knew that the four of them existed.

Just, nothing but silence, a bare bedroom or living room wall, and their own self-doubts to keep them company.

The young woman started sobbing to herself, crying further as her face lowered into her own hands. Not surprisingly, there was no reply to her distress, just silence.

XXXXXXXXXXX


	61. Chapter 51 Progress or something like it

_You know it's been about two years since I wrote this? Like it's been that long since I actually sat down and wrote a decent length but it's going well now so as always thank you for reading and enjoy _

-

"It's me, Weskie", the redhead turned around and looked in the direction of the only door that led into the cabin, greeting the older man as he walked in a few minutes after she had.

"Of course it is, miss Warren", the man in the sunglasses nodded with a smile as he settled down on a sofa, dressed in his regular STARS uniform, and putting himself in as comfortable a position as he could afford in his circumstances.

Which is to say, Shakahnna could still see tension in his four limbs as he crossed one leg over the other and only then visually inspected her own appearance.

As the first rays of sunlight peeked through his window, Wesker only kept his gaze on his visitor.

"Anyone else wouldn't still be standing here if they broke into my home", he added.

"Don't you be locking the door when you leave?", the younger woman inquired next as she narrowed her eyes in an accusing glare, "That so fucking careless, Wesker!".

Another grin from him.

"Miss Warren", he countered in his usually calm tone, "Just _who_ is going to try to break in here that I can't handle? If anything, I _wish_ that Umbrella would make my job easier by sending the prey to me, instead of forcing me to track them down. And all my weapons are hidden in compartments that no random search can find, as is the medication that was constructed by my other half".

"Still…", she cracked her knuckles uncomfortably as she sat down on a smaller couch across from him, "It's just... inviting trouble in".

"It's rules for ordinary people to live by, for their own safety", Wesker continued, "I, on the other hand, have gotten rid of my Kevlar vest, since I learned that it's now completely useless to me, after I tested out my own ability to sustain gunfire, that is".

A moment of silence as both individuals looked into each others' eyes while Shakahnna began to understand the concept of being long-suffering.

"So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?", he asked next, "Not as if you came by to hear what food accentuates my physique and helps it perform even better. But fruit and vegetables are useful in helping me stay awake for four days straight, instead of the mere three, if you're curious".

"Did be", Shakahnna told him, nodding, "Wondering if you're eating properly and stuff".

"I can assure you that I _am_", he promised, "And my supply of medication is still at a decent amount, though I meant to ask if you recently spoke to agent Chambers about her own possible progress with recreating the drugs? I'm afraid I've had no success in breaking down its ingredients, despite my efforts. It seems _he_ had a more keen eye for chemistry than I do".

"I'll say hi hi to Rebecca when I go back to the city, Weskie, no problem", the teenager informed him.

"I'd appreciate that", the former RPD captain replied with a small nod, "And what about _you_, miss Warren? What have you been up to, which could possibly explain your current appearance?".

Shakahnna chuckled to herself, wondering how long it would've taken him to bring up her outfit, and the state of her hair, as she suspected she looked like what the older man would describe as a 'nightmare'.

Rather than having her long hair tied back, it was completely dishevelled, with two strands of bright green at the front, intermingling with the natural red. The corset she wore on her torso had its sleeves attached to the main part of the clothe with safety pins only, and her blackjeans had more hole in the fabric than material.

"I wented to the Big E concert tonight! They be totally swell!", she excitedly rambled on, "Chino bought me the tickets as a surprise. It was such a great night and he was so sweet and Joey's girl went along too and we had the best time. AND… I nearly forgotted everything that we're all going to die horribly because Umbrella are shits".

Her last statement caused him to widen his eyes from behind the sunglasses.

"Miss Warren, the whole point of me going on my own personal crusade here is to _prevent_ Umbrella from taking any more lives", he countered, "Much less having them kill everyone in this city".

"Oh, I know that", the teenager told him, "It's why Jill and her gang do what they do also. But you _do_ have to take time just to chill out a bit here, don't want you to burn out".

"Relaxation for me is when I'm delivering a killing blow against one member of Umbrella staff or another", Wesker countered, "You already know that, I believe. But I digress. How _are_ agents Valentine, Redfield and Burton?".

"Still fighting", Shakahnna reported, "Though I suspect that Chris is exactly who _you'd_ be if you didn't have the powers to run around all superhuman-like".

He gave a short laugh, having no problems remembering agent Redfield's fiery personality in the mansion when the younger man had initially discovered his captain to be a traitor.

"So are you relaxing at all?", she inquired next, though suspecting she already knew the answer.

"As stated before, when I'm hunting, miss Warren", Wesker repeated.

"Not acceptable!", she gave a mock whine, and leapt up to a standing position, marching towards his seated location.

Part of him wondered why she was so insistent on forcing her standards onto him, since what she and others in her environment needed obviously wasn't what was necessary for him to function. So didn't anything done to relax by them mean that it was a waste of his precious time?

However, Wesker didn't get the chance to ask that for long, since the younger woman reached down and supposedly grabbed his nose off his face. Returning to a standing position in front of him, she proudly held her own right thumb between her right middle and index fingers.

"Got your nose!", she declared a bit too happily.

"This is completely juvenile, miss Warren", the man in the sunglasses crossed his arms in front of his chest, not following her lead since he didn't end up smiling.

Why was it that he only smiled when he was recalling how many lives he had taken in the last 24 hours?

It just meant she had to work harder at the task of prompting him to appreciate a good joke. Or did that involve forcing him to appreciate a joke, whether he wanted to or not?

But a stare into the former captain's sunglasses indicated that he simply wasn't yielding on this issue, as he saw it to be childish, which was surely not a good way to spend the limited time he had in this life, not when more training, self-improvement, and killing needed to be done.

"If you wish to help, you _could_ spar with me", Wesker finally uttered, "I am always searching for new ways to learn about my new abilities, miss Warren, and I fear that testing myself against natural obstacles and animals has taught me all I need to know".

"Umm…", Shakahnna stopped to think, still holding his figurative nose hostage in her right hand, "Will that cheer you up?".

"No", he had to be obstinate, "But it _will_ teach me things that fighting against normal humans will not, in addition to helping _you_ learn about your special abilities too, miss Warren".

"I'm not hearing you beg for your nooooose!", the redhead continued teasing.

"Oh, I do apologise", the older man sarcastically countered, "Is the notion of using one's abilities only for a higher purpose and to protect the innocent talk boring you? Especially when something like my nose is at stake?".

"For cunting sake!", Shakahnna replied in a frustrated tone, causing him to wince due to the creativity of her language, "You're no fun!".

Pretending to throw his nose back at him, the redhead stood back, putting distance between herself and her friend, nonverbally indicating she was ready for a sparring session if he wished.

"Are you certain you're not too tired, however?", Wesker had to be sure, even if he was getting something informative out of her agreement to join him.

So interesting would the chance to spar with someone who had such mysterious abilities, in fact, that he'd even be willing to procrastinate today's schedule of hunting and killing for an hour or two.

"Nah", she waved the air in front of her face as a way of giving a negative answer, "Chino's be's in bed just now, but I told him I still had a few hours to go before I was ready to lie down. Result of drinking sixteen cans of Red Bull last night, gave me something and it wasn't fucking wings".

"As long as you have the rest of the day to rest", the man in the RPD uniform commented at her unique diet as he stood back up, easily moving the two sofas aside so as to increase the floor space available.

Standing as they faced each other from about five steps away, neither individual initially turned into a fighting stance.

"May I start by asking?", Wesker began, "What powers do you _know_ yourself to currently possess?".

"Besides the inability to stay dead and bringing back the recently deceased, which you know about, just the fire thing", the shorter female explained. "Which surely would be enough to get me down your pants if we were in high school."

"Any attacks or defences that are specific?", he inquired next as he turned the side of his body towards her, once again from her point of view cock-blocking her from having fun.

"Only what I know from my past, Weskie", Shakahnna told him, "But nothing spectacular, methinks".

"Let _me_ be the judge of that", he offered, inviting her to attack, which she agreed to with a nod of her head, "It's been too long since we last did this".

A remembrance of the first and only time they had sparred at the Police Department occurred to him, with him recalling how she had stolen his sunglasses, and caused him to pursue her to the point where he had to confront officer Frost afterwards. An expression of sadness overtook Wesker's features at remembering the younger man, so he chastised himself for wasting more time, as his hunt of Umbrella staff would be continued for Frost and others like him. And he indicated her to begin.

The older man didn't resist as she charged around him and put a stranglehold on his neck from behind. Shakahnna grunted as she put her entire strength into trying to choke her sparring partner, quickly noticing how much physically stronger Wesker had become since she last fought with him. However, while he was still intentionally not fighting back, preferring to test his body's ability to withstand such an aggressive move, they both quickly noticed that the stranglehold simply wasn't working.

It was in no way due to Shakahnna's lack of effort, as the rookie officer used every bit of her strength to try to make him submit, but a move that would've rendered an ordinary person unconscious just didn't work on the older man. So she soon let him go, giving him the time to turn back around to face her again.

"Do you be breathing because you _need_ to, or just because it be's a force of habit?", she asked him next.

"I _do_ believe it's the latter", the taller opponent pointed out, "So how would you react if I did _this_?".

He swung a close-fisted punch towards her head via his right hand, moving slower than normal, which the teenager had no problem dodging. Seeing as to how this wasn't proving to be much of a challenge, and thus not letting her dormant abilities surface, Wesker intensified his attack, next sending a left jab aimed at her head. The result was that Shakahnna's eyes widened and she blocked his left fist with her right forearm, and an explosion of flame burned his left hand and wrist.

Impressed ,Wesker pulled his own arm back, inspecting the burned damage there, even as the younger woman shrieked and covered her own mouth with both hands at seeing what she had done.

"Cunt Fuck Shit!", the redhead stammered, "I'm SO sorry!".

"Don't be", he grinned while rolling up both his sleeves, "This will heal in no time. I'm just curious as to what this means you can do".

A right jab aimed for her face again, and the shorter woman reacted by bringing both her hands in front of her eyes, before a short tongue of fire shot out of her fingertips and attacked her sparring partner. The flame disappeared after about three yards, burning the front of his STARS uniform, though his skin remained mostly fine.

So Wesker stepped backwards, putting a bit more space in between both of them, and nonverbally indicated for her to repeat the process, and aim her fire projectile as far towards him as possible. Following his request, Shakahnna closed her eyes and tried to concentrate in the same manner that she reacted when she was defending herself, and caused another burst of flame to shoot in his direction, this one reaching two yards longer than the previous one.

"Weskie, do you remember seeing runes that were holding me in place back at the lab?", she asked next, her mind wondering back to that hellish imprisonment and the magical pieces her antagonist had used to keep her abilities restrained.

"Not that I recall, no", he approached her again, "I have no idea what you are referring to, miss Warren".

"_He_ used them, after running into some shadow-guy", she remembered, disgust appearing on her face as she talked about Wesker's other personality, "And they let him prevent me from using my abilities and breaking out of there".

"My best guess is that these runes, as you describe them, were destroyed in the mansion, miss Warren", he crossed his arms in front of his chest, and rested his chin on his upraised right palm, "From what you told me, he didn't intend for me to survive the attack by the Tyrant, after all, so he most likely wished to take a minute and collect personal items after he woke up and I was dead, before evacuating. But since you interrupted his plans by bringing me back, he never got the chance. So the runes are now most likely dust after you made your way out of your cryogenic tube due to the blood on the cracked glass after Burton and Valentine initially defeated the Tyrant".

"I suppose…", she recalled, "The runes were _still_ around my tube when I got out".

"Which means they were still there when we exited the mansion and it was then levelled by the explosion", he continued, "However, I must admit that I know nothing of this shadow-man you speak of".

"Yeah, that's good news", Shakahnna angrily remembered what her tormentor had used them for, still unable to get rid of the anxiety that the mysterious man who was made out of shadows may have returned to reclaim his belongings in the mansion.

So staring back into the taller man's eyes, she breathed in and out, suddenly deciding that learning more about her own abilities, and his, wasn't such a bad idea.

The information may be useful later, after all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You keep this up, Alfonso, and you'll be getting fat in no time", Shakahnna commented towards her companion as she was seated on the edge of the bathtub, her bare feet on the tiled bathroom floor.

Not surprisingly, the creature she was addressing didn't reply in English, as the redhead separated this particular slice of bread that had a thin layer of butter on it into four pieces. She then threw the first piece into the bathtub itself, this ritual having gone on for about ten minutes now, and the slice in her hand being the fifth one so far.

Alfonso Hindley Brady sure was a hungry one.

Looking up at the redhead, the duck that Shakahnna had adopted, or kidnapped, depending on who was asked, from the park earlier, quacked before it rushed forward to start eating the latest slice of buttered bread. Floating on top of the eight inches of water that was in the bathtub, the animal flapped its wings for a few moments as it finished eating, and then looked up at the young woman further.

Of course, Shakahnna gladly threw the second piece of buttered bread in, prompting Alfonso to not have to wait long before resuming its personal buffet.

"Don't you be worrying none", the rookie cop added next as it dove the front half of its body under water, chasing this piece of bread that had sunk to the bottom of the bathtub, "Where you be going, you'll have all the same things as here, and not like Donnelly says, where what it involves is hon-sin sauce".

Alfonso swallowed the latest offering while underwater, chewing it while its face was still submerged and its rear legs were protruding from the surface. It was only then that it emerged back to the top and floated there as earlier.

"And it's not that I want you to go", a look of sadness came across her face as she threw the third bit of bread to her pet, "They found another body today, and I don't think it be's Weskie's doing this time".

She stopped long enough to see that it had eaten the food before putting in the last bit next, and then she could resume the task of buttering up another slice of bread afterwards.

"There were some animals last time too, like giant spiders and dogs", Shakahnna continued, updating the duck of current events as if it could understand, "I don't know if that was deliberate or not. And as funny as it would be to see you grow all huge and eating Donnelly... after him, I would have to insist, with the use of firearms that you didn't eat anyone else".

The duck quacked back, excitedly looking up at her, and not understanding that she disliked having to say all this.

"I don't think it's gonna be safe for you here, Alfonso", the redhead sorrowfully continued as she stopped feeding the animal without realizing it.

Shakahnna next leaned forward, dipping her right hand and part of that forearm into the water, mimicking another duck for the creature to play with.

"I don't think it's gonna be safe for _anyone_", she added, "And Chino's coming home every day and yelling about _something_".

She sighed, as the duck had stopped eating the food, the small animal now simply floating on the water and looking up at her.

"I mean, I know why he be's so stressed", the teenager worked to prevent tears from running down her face, and actually succeeded, "His parents are refusing to leave the city like he wants, or I should say, his _father_ is, and that's stressing Chino out _all_ the time, and nothing I can do will cheer him up".

The task of not crying was becoming even more difficult as she thought of the current situation, so Shakahnna rubbed both her eyes dry as her pet remained where it was.

"And the environment at work sucks, even on days where I _do_ know what's going on", the rookie cop continued, "And Weskie's gleefully, oh yes and I DO mean gleefully, going on his killing spree, and I can't be telling Chino about it. The RPD keeps talking about this serial killer who's killing doctors and businessmen all over the city, and I know who it is. And I'm so sick of being called 'that idiot girl'! It's one thing when I doesn't even be there but for fuck sake when am standing right there?!".

The bird in the bathtub quacked, causing her to look down at it, and while she knew what she wanted to do, the young woman didn't like that it had come to this. So gathering her nerve while she still had it, Shakahnna put the rest of the bread back into the loaf that she was taking the slices from, and closed the container of butter, leaving the kitchen knife on top of the box.

Reaching into the bathtub, she first removed the drain seal, allowing the water there to recede, before she then picked up the duck with both hands. The small animal quacked again, wondering where it was being carried, and tried to flap its wings, before the teenager gave it an affectionate hug, being careful to not squeeze it too much.

"I'm gonna miss you, baby", she mentioned next, knowing the animal was the one creature she had been able to speak to freely in the last several days.

Alfonso only quacked again, now appearing comfortable in her grip and not trying to get away any more. So she carried it out of the bathroom, though she continued speaking to the bird in the process.

"I _so_ wish I could be as honest with Chino as I am with you", the redhead continued as she placed the animal on top of a towel that was placed on the living room sofa, "We keep having these silences right after the shouting where I wanna tell him _so_ much, and I can't, because I have _such_ a bad feeling about this place and what's going to happen here, and between Chino, Weskie, Donnelly, Jill, Chris, Rebecca, Barry, Joanne and her dad? They're all doing their own thing and following their own plan, trying to prepare, and _trying_ to…".

She stopped, as she had to.

Sitting on the couch next to the duck, Shakahnna rubbed her face with both hands.

"Trying to pretend that there's _anything_ for them to do here, to save this place", the cop continued, "So I might as well stay and help them with this rather hopeless cause. Doesn't mean it's what's best for _you_ though, sweetie".

She smiled while looking down at her pet, and patted the duck on the head, before the seated animal stood up and shook its feathers in an effort to dry them.

"I'm taking you to see Kate, Joey's girlfriend?", she addressed the animal next as she reached for a small suitcase that was placed next to the towel, opening the container and confirming that the $11,000 in cash was still there, "She's _really_ nice, and considering she was the only person listed as Joey's beneficiary, she got the entire $60,000 lump sum due to poor Joey dying on the job".

Shakahnna picked up the duck again and put it inside a plastic pet carrier, before closing the carrier behind it, though she could still see the animal through the container's bars.

"That, and this money from Mr Warren, will ensure that you two have a nice life in Grandville, baby", the teenager picked up the pet carrier in one hand and the suitcase full of money in the other, "Her bus is leaving in a couple of hours, and she thankfully took my advice to get the hell out of here last week. Only condition was to take you with her and give you a nice home when she arrives in Grandville tomorrow afternoon. That's where her parents are, you know".

Leaving her home, the rookie cop first locked the door behind herself, and began the twenty-minute walk to the city's bus station. Once she got there, she'd have to say goodbye to her pet, and wish Kate the best of luck.

And more than anything, she'd also be thankful that at least one human and one animal made it out of Raccoon City alive and well.

"So what have _you_ been up to?", agent Chambers gave one of her usually friendly smiles while she temporarily looked up from the microscope that she was using to examine a sample of blood, "Besides the obvious, I mean".

"Working at the RPD is... interesting but gonna not bitch cause I pushed to get in", Shakahnna placed her hands in her pockets while leaning against the wall behind her, having visiting this laboratory after waving goodbye to Kate and Alfonso.

The redhead instinctively reached for the piece of paper in her right pocket that had Kate's parents' phone number in Grandville, the two women having agreed to stay in touch once officer's Frost's girlfriend was settled down in the new city. And Kate had been nice enough to promise to send pictures of herself and the duck to the rookie cop via email every once in a while, so the young woman looked forward to that process, missing her friends already.

For now, though, she had decided to visit Chambers, as both a social call to see how the medic was feeling, and also to ask if there were any updates about the work the Bravo agent was doing.

In the last ten minutes, the medic put on a brave face, insisting she's feeling alright, though Shakahnna strongly suspected, or even knew for sure, that the STARS officer was lying. There was no question that the 18-year old gave a fake smile and broke eye contact every time she repeated the line about how good things were in Burton's home, with the weapons export, and Valentine and Redfield sharing the house together. Being younger than Shakahnna herself, it must have been that much more gruelling to be in this situation.

However, Chambers was insistent that she wasn't exaggerating about her own emotions, and didn't seem to wish to talk about it further, so Shakahnna hadn't protested when the medic changed the subject.

"I bet!", the Bravo cop giggled, "Without the academy first! I guess I can't really say too much there though".

"Hopefully I'll have enough time to do a university degree in psychology in my spare time", the rookie continued, not particularly seriously.

"And here I thought that people with the most issues are the only ones to go into psychology", the medic laughed.

"Nah", Shakahnna shook her head, "Donnelly's 'we're not dating, honest' girlfriend, Sam, completely disproves _that_ theory, considering she's a doctor".

"So does agent Yuen's boyfriend", Chambers added, "I thought my _father_ was uptight. Samuel's guy makes my mom and dad look like Santa Claus".

A few moments of silence followed, with the medic clearing her throat, indicating that social discussions were finished.

"I know you got shit loads on, Rebecca, but any update on that thing?", the redhead inquired next, guessing it was a good time to get to the point.

"Well, I've isolated the virus antigen from your blood", the Bravo agent explained, trying to not use jargon that would confuse anyone who wasn't as well-versed in this science as her, "Good news is that you seem immune to the virus that was responsible for the nightmare in that mansion. Bad news is that I still can't figure out _why_. I'll heat it to de-nature the blood cells, which _may_ leave the virus living and the cells attached, which _may_ be isolated to provide an immunization".

"That'd be good.", the rookie cop thought out loud. Not that she had understood much more than the words blood and immunization.

"I'm afraid my news about that one pill you gave me to analyze is even _less_ optimistic", Chambers continued, causing Shakahnna to hold her breath without realizing it when the medic mentioned the drug that was keeping Wesker's ulterior personality at bay, "I simply _cannot_ figure out the ingredients here. It's really a baffling mystery to me. Can you tell me _anything_ more about it?".

"Only what I already know, which I mentioned before", the redhead lied.

It was only then that a door was opened from another section of the laboratory, surprising Shakahnna since she had been under the impression that Chambers was working alone. Agent Redfield emerged from the other side of the doorway, accompanied by an Asian man who seemed to be approximately 40 years old, the second person dressed in a shirt from an unknown Police Department that the redhead did not recognize. Following both men from a short distance was officer Valentine, the two STARS members and their guest noticing that the medic had company, and giving Shakahnna a different version of a polite greeting as they proceeded towards the laboratory exit.

"You're giving me a lot to think about, Chris", the unknown visitor stated as the trio walked out of the lab area, "Is there a time frame for when you need all this done?".

"As soon as, Paul", Redfield slapped his friend on the upper back, before Valentine closed the door behind the three individuals, having the trio move outside towards the parking lot, and leaving the rookie cop and the medic to resume their conversation inside.

"Well, there _are_ some people in the Army I can call up", the man who was identified as Paul continued once he was nearing his own car and the two STARS agents approached the vehicle they had borrowed from Burton, "And Andrew _will_ want to help with this, knowing him. Buying guns and ammo and transporting them are one thing, Jill. Those are easy enough to get if you have money. But this investigation you want of your own chief will _definitely_ be a thorny issue for anyone who's involved, Chris".

"Wait!", Valentine sounded as surprised as she felt at the last statement that was made while the three individuals stood next to their cars, "_What_ investigation of Irons?".

The young woman looked at her boyfriend, and their visitor only then understood that Redfield had asked for such a sensitive request of members of a foreign Police Department without discussing it with his own RPD colleagues first.

"Don't worry about it, Jill", the STARS marksman brushed off her concern with a wave of his hand as he addressed the other officer still, "Can you get in touch with me in 48 hours, Paul?".

"Sure thing, guys", the older man addressed both STARS officers, "I'll call you with an update two days from now. Stay married to Barry's home phone at 6PM, and I'll let you know what I have by then. With any luck, you'll have _some_ of the guns you asked for by the end of the week. But no promises about the second question, Chris".

"Thanks, Paul, as always", Redfield gave the visitor an impromptu embrace, before the older man addressed the female agent.

"Always a pleasure, Jill", the contact with the Army offered a hug, which Valentine reciprocated with more energy than her boyfriend, embracing their visitor for several heartbeats.

"Thanks for coming by on such short notice, Paul", the younger woman kissed him on the cheek as they separated, "And be careful, OK?".

"Always am", the visitor smiled as he unlocked his car door, before settling down behind the steering wheel and letting Redfield close the door behind him, "You do the same. And call me if there's any updates from here".

"Tell Andrew we said 'hi', too", Valentine waved goodbye before the older man drove off, even as Redfield was unlocking Burton's vehicle, knowing exactly what his girlfriend would say as soon as she was alone with him.

And frankly, the young man had more important things on his mind at this moment.

"So how come you didn't tell me about you wanting Paul to ask about Irons?", the young woman inquired even before Redfield had settled down behind the wheel, as expected.

"Look, Jill, it's not important", the marksman sighed as he and his girlfriend put on their seatbelt, and he started the engine.

"Guns is one thing, Chris", she wouldn't let the subject drop from the front passenger seat, of course, as he drove them back to Burton's home, "But asking Paul and that boy Andrew to get involved with _this_ mess? Knowing what Umbrella's like?".

"There _aren't_ many people I can trust, Jill", Redfield honestly replied, "That means I have to ask more from those few who I'm _sure_ will never be on the take".

"OK, so let's say that makes sense", Valentine continued, "If it was as simple as that, how come you didn't tell me about this before talking to Paul? Unless you _knew_ it was wrong. Or at least suspected it. Why would you want to take a shortcut like that? We all agreed that facing Umbrella would have to be a slow process, and involve as few people as possible, for their own sake".

"Jill!", the young man snapped without looking at her, "I have other things on my mind just now! I can't be telling you _every_ single detail about everything I do, alright?!".

To her credit, she didn't take any offence from what he said, or even seemed annoyed at it, Valentine's face only showing the concern she felt.

"What else is on your mind just now?", the machine expert calmly asked further as they approached Burton's home, "What don't I know?".

No response from her boyfriend as he simply kept driving the car.

"Chris?", she verbally prodded further.

"This isn't a good time for this, Jill", he finally replied through gritted teeth as the vehicle rounded the corner to reach their destination.

"Yes, of course!", Valentine finally snapped in her own turn as the car was parked, "I'm good enough to fuck. Just not good enough to talk to".

Uttering unintelligible things under her breath, the young woman undid her seatbelt and exited the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind her before she marched into Burton's home. That left Redfield alone in the car, the young man rubbing his own face in frustration at the stress that he and the rest of the team were under, and at the worry over how poorly they were all performing.

Withdrawing his cellphone, the marksman used the speed-dial option to contact someone there. He counted seven rings, but as had been the case for the entire week, and the hundred times he tried to make this call, the person on the other end did not pick up. Instead, the call went to voicemail, and Redfield hung up, having left over a dozen messages in the last few days.

Putting the cellphone away, the young man only felt worse, trying to guess what the odds were that Umbrella was involved with the disappearance of the person he was desperate to contact.


	62. Chapter 52 Trouble At Home

The redhead had always found it distasteful when couples had a domestic argument in public.

So why was she doing exactly that just now?

Standing at the edge of a corridor within the RPD, the rookie cop who had previously pulled at her own red hair in an effort to deal with the stress she felt was busy screaming at her boyfriend, Chino having already angrily left her desk before walking away. From the middle of the hallway, where he was now, officer Chisholm turned around, still significantly calmer than her, though becoming more aggravated with each passing minute.

"Shak, you _know_ this isn't fair", the older man sighed, his voice revealing how tired he felt, and it was only an hour into his shift so far.

"DO I LOOK LIKE I CARE?!", Shakahnna only yelled back, either ignoring or simply not noticing the officers who walked by them both, the other staff members not wanting to get involved with this particular problem.

"If you don't keep your voice down, you'll get us fired", he calmly retorted, hoping a lie would force her to regain her composure, when the truth obviously was not.

Except it did not, the teenager only screaming louder, this time incoherently, as she pulled at her own hair again. So Chisholm said nothing back, only falling quiet as he thought it best to walk away from this scene and give them both time to become more objective while alone.

Of course, she hated to see him leave, and considered running after him. Then, she considered simply quitting her job at the RPD, which was stupid and a useless waste of time anyway.

Instead, Shakahnna kept drying her tears as she simply walked out of the precinct, not even telling anyone about where she was going, and without signing out.

The crowds that were out in the evening were plentiful, the bars and restaurants in downtown Raccoon City still open for business. It was just odd how much more pessimistic everything appeared when she had something grave on her mind, as the uniformed teenager aimlessly made her way past the pedestrians.

Where was there to go?

It bothered her that the answer to that question was quite limited.

She could not go see Wesker, since the former RPD captain had been mentioned during her argument with Chisholm, even if the fight itself wasn't about the older man. But even if she did see the superhuman in the sunglasses, she couldn't imagine that Wesker would be a good proverbial shoulder to cry on. At best, he'd let her use his cabin for a place to rest and gather her thoughts, till she felt better.

She could've visited his cabin even if he wasn't there, and maybe gotten some sleep. She truly was tired by now. But that would've been rude if he wasn't there, and if he happened to be in, he may have needed to use the bed for rest himself.

If she had visited Donnelly, then the more experienced cop would not have been sympathetic, his loyalty always with his partner first.

So Shakahnna scratched her face, feeling a headache developing there, as she proceeded past more people.

While she was friendly with a lot of people, she knew she had no one to truly spend time with during a crisis like this one. At least, she was fortunate enough to have Wesker's cabin and Mr Warren's mansion to go to if she wanted a roof over her head and something to eat, and some rest. A lot of people wouldn't even have had that if they had a fight at home.

Regardless, the teenager ultimately decided to just stay out here, and wait for her boyfriend's 8-hour shift to end, before going home to speak and get some rest then.

Walking past a club here, a restaurant there, a cablecar here, a video game shop there, a church here, and a library there, the young woman finally came across a place that caught her attention.

In front of her was none other than Kendo's gunshop. She had meant to speak to Robert Kendo several days ago, and was repeatedly distracted by one chore or responsibility after another. So why not now?

Walking into the shop, she was greeted by Mr Kendo himself, the rookie cop glad that it was the only man who was behind the counter, and not one of his assistants, whom she wasn't as familiar with.

"Why, miss Warren!", the shopowner exclaimed with a genuine smile, "Long time no see, sweetheart! I was just about to close, but what can I do you for?".

"Hi, Mr Kendo", Shakahnna put on the most sincere smile she could muster, though she found the task easier when faced with this man's happy demeanour, "I wanted to talk to you, actually".

"Sure thing, miss Warren", he invited her closer to where he stood by the cash register, "Make yourself at home. My shop is your shop, and all that".

"How are the plans going to expand your shop?", she inquired, coming nearer, till she leaned forward on the counter, "Business good?".

"Yeah, definitely, business is good", Mr Kendo confirmed, "Expansion should be complete in the next couple of months? I was still surprised that your father's office contacted me with a grant for it, but heck, no point in looking a gift horse in the mouth, huh?".

"No, I suppose not", she replied, glad to hear that more firearms would be coming into this city soon, "So can you tell me what _this_ would buy, Mr Kendo?".

The young woman reached into her uniform, and withdrew several $50 bills, placing them on the counter for him.

"Oh, dear!", the older man looked at the money first, and then at her, "I'd be careful about carrying that kind of cash on your person, Ms Warren, even _if_ you're armed".

"I was planning on visiting you today to ask, that's why it's here", she countered, "Specifically, do you have Desert Eagle rounds?".

"Oh, absolutely", Kendo told her, "Plenty of'em".

"Flatheads?", Shakahnna asked next.

"Oh, no", he became more serious as he answered, "No, no, no, darling. Those are illegal".

"But you got them for Weskie", the redhead followed through, and afterwards hoped she hadn't sounded as if she was accusing him of anything.

"No, I never have", he lied for the first time, "But how _are_ you coping with poor Albert's death due to those damn STARS' negligence?".

"My therapist says I enjoy shooting guns", Shakahna lied in her own turn, "That's why I wanna turn my room into an armoury, have hoards and hoards of weapons and ammo, including gas and smoke grenades, if you have them?".

"Oh, dear!", Mr Kendo gave a hearty laugh by throwing his head back, "Well, as long as you promise to not use them on _people_, and I can trust that you won't, seeing your uniform and all, then you're welcome to buy anything _legal_ here, Ms Warren".

"Thanks a lot", the teenager gratefully replied, "For now, then, I'll take half this money for Desert Eagle rounds, and half for 9 millimetre rounds for my Glock?".

"Coming right up", the shopowner first counted the cash, and then proceeded to the backroom to get the stored items.

Left alone in the main shop for a few moments, Shakahnna inhaled and exhaled heavily. Her head still hurt, and she was already impatient to see Chisholm again, though she'd have to wait several more hours for that to happen. But at least this entire evening wasn't a waste of time.

-----------------

It was some time later that Shakahnna was still wandering the streets of Raccoon City. Due to not having anything on her person that would tell her the time, she wasn't sure exactly how late it was now, though it was definitely around when all businesses other than bars and restaurants were closed.

Carrying the heavy backpack that was strapped to her right shoulder, the redhead felt the weight of the boxes of countless bullets and cleaning material that Robert Kendo had provided as part of the sale. The shop owner had also been nice enough to provide the bag she was carrying the items in, telling the teenager that she could bring the container back the next time she was visiting.

The teenager wasn't sure why, but she'd been more tired recently. Was it because of the practice she'd been doing with magic, or maybe her new job at the RPD? Or the stress of knowing that the nightmare from the Umbrella labs could one day spill to the rest of the city? Or something else entirely?

Surely, fighting with Chino wasn't nice, and that didn't help matters.

And it seemed she couldn't do anything right recently.

She considered the option of simply going to the cop's apartment and cleaning her weapons there while waiting for him there. It sure sounded like a better option than carrying all this ammunition on her shoulder, even if she was using the bag that Mr Kendo had kindly loaned to her.

It was by chance that Shakahnna happened to walk past Raccoon City Park, the place where she had found, and subsequently adopted, her duck bringing a smile to her face.

She stopped at the park gate, now considering the idea of actually going inside. This was even if there weren't any lights inside the place at night, causing it to appear like a different planet altogether after sunset due to the noise of running water and animals that one couldn't see at all. So while it was a very serene place indeed during the daytime, one where anyone who enjoyed nature, or feeding animals, or just a calm place to exercise in, would visit, it was an eerie place where people were best to avoid at night, leaving it to the animals who weren't so helpless at that time.

So the teenager went into the park, guessing that she'd stay close to the exit, and if need be, or when needed, she had a flashlight on her uniform anyway. And if there was something that might rip her throat out, it was hardly a big deal.

The rookie cop hadn't walked more than twenty steps, the sound of water and animals becoming louder, when she heard another sound ahead of her, one that definitely sounded human. Shakahnna tensed up, suddenly worrying that there was a zombie there.

As a result, she rushed to lower the backpack by her feet, and reached for her handgun first and her flashlight second. Turning the light on and pointing it ahead of herself, the teenager gasped when she found a person to be slumped forward on the nearest park bench. The illumination from her flashlight shone on the new individual's face, and that adult male winced and instinctively lifted his bent arm in her direction, blocking out the light that hurt his eyes.

At least a zombie wouldn't have done that. So Shakahnna released the grip on the handle of her holstered sidearm, picking up her backpack as she resumed walking in that man's direction.

From his end, the new person didn't try to leave, or even look at her, as she walked up to him. And it was only when the teenager put her flashlight away, and was merely feet away from his seated position, that the moonlight from above indicated she was staring at officer Whey from the RPD.

Her eyes widened at the same time that he gasped, recognizing her also, and he reacted almost as if he was being physically attacked, even though Shakahnna wasn't moving.

"No, no, it's OK", the redhead calmed him down, even by placing a hand on his shoulder, "I'm not looking for a fight. I didn't even _know_ you were here, honest".

"What the hell are you doing here?!", he inquired, more curious and surprised than annoyed.

"Probably the same thing _you_ are", she told him, sitting down on the same bench, so both cops were looking ahead as they spoke, "Trying to find some peace, and not succeeding".

"It's alright on my end", Whey replied, leaning back this time and extending his right arm against the top of the back of the bench, "Not that I deserve it. Not after all the shit we pulled with _you_ and your friend Chisholm and so many others. I guess there's justice in this world after all".

He leaned back forward and put his face in his hands. And in a scene that she'd never thought she'd see, Shakahnna ended up placing her palm on his upper back as a consolation.

"You're being awfully affectionate", he pointed out next, lifting his face to look up at her.

He was suspicious. That was good.

"I've been told by a reliable friend about what happened to your three pals", Shakahnna mentioned, intentionally not putting forth Wesker's name.

"You mean they're not alive and well somewhere, living a comfortable life after their 'disappearance'?", he sarcastically followed, knowing that she was confirming what he already felt, "The four of us always did everything together, even when we were getting money from _somewhere_".

"I'm afraid not, no, they're not alright", the young woman told him, "Umbrella saw to that, and it had nothing to do with justice, of course. Nothing about that company does. Whatever your pals did, they didn't deserve to end up like _that_".

"They were all my friends", the older man pointed out, "Doesn't feel right to just let their deaths go un-avenged, you know? But don't even know where to _start_. Not in _this_ town".

"I myself want to kick someone so hard that their balls come out their mouth", the teenager continued, causing him to chuckle, "I require to do that, like it be's my goal in life. Maybe I can do that to someone from Umbrella one day?".

"I'll buy you a drink if that happens, then", Whey nodded his head.

Sitting back up, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, and kept looking straight ahead into the pitch black darkness. She looked in the same direction, and neither person said anything, listening to the crickets instead.

There was nothing else to say about the subject, after all.

Jill Valentine fought the urge to punch whatever inanimate objects were around her, the STARS officer who was dressed in blue jeans and a tucked-in blouse clenching her brown hair with her right fingers as she turned her left hand into a tight fist.

Remaining on her feet in Burton's living room, and as usual, hearing nothing but complete silence, it had been that way for the last day. Chambers had slept at the labs where she was doing her research, while the oldest of the four agents had not even left the bedroom he used to share with his wife.

Come to think of it, the brunette thought that the 18-year old medic's reaction was an indication of how unhappy the teenager was, as she had preferred to spend the night sleeping on the floor of a secluded lab, rather than returning to her new bedroom here. Chambers had called to inform them of her plans, of course, making up the excuse that she had so much work to do that coming to Burton's house at night and then returning the next morning would've just been a waste of time. But both women knew the real reason why she was staying away, as this household seemed to just suck the fun and energy out of its inhabitants.

As expected, Valentine had parroted her boyfriend's line about the four of them having to stick together, to which the teenager had quickly countered with the assurance that she'd be alright. After all, Chambers mentioned that she had her sidearm with her, in case Umbrella's troops tried to attack, though Valentine strongly suspected the girl had said the last statement with sarcasm.

In another time and another place, the Alpha team specialist would've thought of something to try to address the Bravo medic's obvious isolation and unhappiness. Unfortunately, Valentine currently found herself in a position where she couldn't even do anything about her own problems, much less the troubles of a junior colleague who she was supposed to be protecting. And the older cop's own problems started the same as that of her fellow STARS officers, before emotionally spiralling out of control due to a certain Alpha team marksman.

Valentine didn't normally consider herself to be a violent person, so why was this causing her to feel so much aggression?

Must've had something to do with Redfield not having said a word to her in the last 24 hours, ever since they both had that argument while returning from their meeting with sergeant Paul Kwan. The marksman had been quiet all of last night, before going to bed on his own without asking if she wanted to come along, which left Valentine to spend a few hours watching one stupid television show after another, before she had fallen asleep on the living room couch.

Having woken up from an uncomfortable sleep soon after sunrise this morning, she had found that her boyfriend was already gone from the house. Then, Redfield was missing through most of the day, not having left a message about where he was going, and not having called either. So much for his insistence that the four STARS agents needed to physically stick together, as he could've been ambushed by Umbrella's mercenary forces and his girlfriend would not have known about it all day.

Then, Redfield had returned to Burton's home around dinnertime, which turned out to be during the fifteen minutes when she was visiting the grocery store down the street. So he was back in their bedroom, doing some work, and not coming out to speak to her, even though he heard the brunette returning.

Valentine tried standing up with her back leaning against the wall, and then sitting down, then eating something from the kitchen, all while being unable to bring herself to visit Redfield in the bedroom, and getting angrier that he wasn't visiting her in the living room. So after half an hour of this, the young woman had sworn to herself before marching into his room, and pushed the door open as she held her breath.

She hadn't known what to expect on the other side of the doorway, but it hadn't been this, the STARS agent exhaling as her body remained tense. That's because in front of her was Chris Redfield, as the young man was packing some of his clothes into a small suitcase, along with his 9mm RPD-issue handgun.

He made eye contact with her for a moment, and continued packing, no longer looking her in the face any more.

"I'm sorry, Jill", were the first words he spoke to her all day, "I have to go to Europe".

So much for the apology that was supposed to cause them to have long and honest conversation about their problems, before things improved.

"You sound rather, like you're saying farewell", she managed to utter after a few uncomfortable moments, disliking the way this conversation had started.

She was either sad or angry, he couldn't tell which.

"This isn't farewell", the young man continued, still continuing his annoying habit of not looking at her while he packed further, "I'm coming back. I just…".

He stopped long enough to look into her eyes for a moment, not enjoying the view of the female agent who was leaning her back against the doorway as her arms remained indignantly crossed.

"Save it", she countered, "After _you_ were the one going on about the supposed importance of _sticking together_".

So she was more angry than sad.

"It _is_ important to do that", Redfield insisted, feeling exasperated as he sat down on the edge of their bed, "You _know_ what we're up against".

"No, what we _were_ up against", Valentine contradicted from her position, "I think we established that Umbrella won this round, Chris, while all of us are running around like idiots who couldn't walk and talk at the same time".

"I don't agree with that", he insisted, causing her to suspect that he was doing it due to his inability to accept an obvious defeat, "But it's my sister Claire, Jill. She's missing. She can't be found _anywhere_, and I'm so worried I'm making myself sick".

The brunette felt surprised at the update, not having known that her boyfriend even had a sibling before, and was unsure if she should ask the next question that was on her mind as Redfield stood back up and resumed packing.

"You're not asking me to go along with you why?", she finally blurted out, causing him to stop what he was doing for the second time.

He was carefully picking his words as he stayed quiet. That much was obvious.

"Sweetheart, all this time, I was going with the assumption that my little sister was safe across the ocean, away from all this", Redfield mentioned at last, "But now she may be in danger, if she's not already dead, maybe because Umbrella knows who her brother is. I can't stop worrying about her, it's a 24/7 stress on my head and it won't ever ease up till I see that she's safe. She's the only family I have".

"That doesn't explain why I'm not coming with you, _especially_ if Umbrella may have hurt her", Valentine explained, calmer this time as she now knew the pressure he had been under, and sympathised.

What could she do to make him feel better?

"Because you're gonna hear me obsessing about Claire with every waking moment till I find her", Redfield stated, "I don't think you're gonna be OK with that".

The young woman's eyes watered as she felt her throat tightening, leading her to dry her eyes while she nodded her head several times.

"Right", she acknowledged, "I'm just not a good enough girlfriend to have around during a crisis".

"Jill, that's not what…", he began countering.

"You know, us STARS _really_ don't have a grip on this loyalty thing", she interrupted, "First, Wesker, guy who we thought was great enough to lead this hunt against Umbrella, turns out to be a traitorous son of a bitch. Then Brad and Richard bail as soon as we're back in the city. Barry can't stop talking about Moira this, Polly that, to the point where you just wanna tell him to shut the fuck up already! I mean, why did he become a cop if all he ever wanted to do was be with his kids as a househusband? And now you. Umbrella sure doesn't have much to worry about a unified STARS front, does it?".

"Sweetheart, please don't do this", the marksman moved towards her in an effort to give an embrace, "This…".

"You only ever call me that when you've done something wrong?", she stepped back and out of his reach.

"This is just for a few days", Redfield explained, not coming closer, "A couple of weeks, tops. I just… I can't think of _anything_, not my friends, not beating Umbrella. Hell, not even about me resting or about us. Not till Claire's OK. I'm not abandoning you here. I'll _be_ right back".

"Fine", she dried her eyes again.

"The plane takes off in three hours", the male agent closed his suitcase, not wishing to end the discussion like this, but knowing that time was not on his side, "Will you go to the airport with me? We could talk some more along the way".

"No, it's alright", she told him, "You go ahead. I'll tell Barry and Becca about when we can expect to see you again".

He clearly wanted to change her mind, but didn't press the issue.

"If you're sure", he merely said as he picked up his suitcase and his holstered handgun, coming closer to her again, before he put the container on the floor.

This time, she let him give her a hug, and embraced him back, before he kissed her on the forehead, and they physically separated. Redfield looked back at her as he left unhappily, before Valentine closed the bedroom door behind him, leaving herself alone in that area.

It was only when he was gone that Valentine allowed herself to sit on the edge of the bed in her own turn as she began crying. She felt horrible about what he had done, and how she had reacted to his actions, and because after all their planning and the risks they took, Umbrella was still basically untouched, free to kill others as it wished.

But still, she exhaled heavily as she blankly stared ahead while the tears stopped and she dried her face again. After all, if her boyfriend had ever called out another woman's name while he was asleep, whether that other female was his sister or not, she may have reacted horribly.

Or she may have accepted it with grace.

Too bad she'd never find out now.

Elena Warren swore at herself for failing to control her emotions better. For the countless time today, she was gritting her teeth together, which wasn't acceptable at all, not when the action didn't help with the situation, and only hurt her jaw at the same time. Not to mention probably causing her perfectly-evened teeth to be crooked on the long run if she didn't cease that bad habit.

The mayor's wife was glad that everyone in this particular underground work area had the sense to stay out of her way today, at least, all staff members wisely avoiding her when she was rushing from one area of the laboratory to another. Or, was she being forced to rush? She had to stop and consider the difference in terminology, as if it made any difference today, when she had started her morning shift by already sending two members of the clerical staff to Rockfort for their annoying non-compliance of her orders.

After that, everyone else had kept their "advice" on how to improve the lab's efficiency to themselves.

Mrs Warren was hungry, she knew that much.

What she did not know, however, was whether the last meal she had skipped was yesterday's lunch or dinner.

In fact, she had no idea whether it was daytime or night outside, not when the entire place was covered in the usual white illumination, with its artificial air being recycled through the vents, and with absolutely no access to the surface world.

And when had she started hating working here? Wasn't being here, in her current position, something she had wanted for years?

She had spent more time than could be remembered, all to prove her worth, when Claymont was handed his promotion over her. It was ironic that the annoying vice-president's death was what caused Mrs Warren to be given her opportunity, when she would've preferred to beat Claymont at his game. Then again, there was a good chance that the previous vice-president would've been at his post for a long time to come, keeping the mayor's wife at the post she used to be in before this promotion.

So why was everything in her life worse since she got promoted?

Contrary to enjoying her job immensely, as she did before, Warren was now either angry or worried all the time, from when she reported for her shift, to when she left the laboratories. In turn, it meant that she was unable to rest even after her longer-than-normal shift had finished.

So to summarize – the long-time and high-ranking White Umbrella member had been promoted, only for her lifestyle to become much worse.

She swore again, this time at Claymont, for daring to leave this hopeless mess back when he was alive.

The fact that the figurative mess only started a short time after the older man's death wasn't important, as the mayor's wife took a hold of the newspaper that had been brought to her desk, along with a tray for her breakfast.

Was that moron of an assistant of hers still bringing the traditional serving of breakfast and newspaper? Granted the procedure for a Vice-President's assistant went back years, but hadn't she told him to no longer bother with it, because it was a waste of her time?

Maybe she should have him shipped to Rockfort too, for not listening to her order.

Then again, maybe she hadn't given him the command to stop bringing her the breakfast that was never eaten and the newspaper that was never read, but she only thought she had.

Oh well, she decided to not bother spending the two minutes it would take to relocate the moron to Rockfort.

So the tray of food that didn't look all that appetizing any more was put aside. And Mrs Warren did the same with the folded newspaper, unintentionally seeing the top headline, reading something about a seventh blonde girl who'd gone missing in the city, and the authorities believing there was a serial killer on the loose.

That caused the high-ranking Umbrella executive to stop for a moment, thinking to herself that this was one mess which wasn't created by her employer. Plus, the murderer who was hunting her own colleagues, in addition to the pharmaceutical company's junior staff, was no longer being discussed, which was good news.

At least, as good as she could expected nowadays.

The vice president moaned in frustration to herself, recalling the events of the last few weeks.

Where in the world was Hunk?

The only loyal and truly efficient Umbrella footsoldier had been missing for weeks now, ever since she had given him the order to put together a team of hand-picked sentries to force their way into William Birkin's laboratories. Birkin and his wife had ignored her requests enough, to the point where it was no longer sensible to be polite, and the sample of the G-virus had to be acquired.

And it wasn't just that she was desperate to give her own superiors some positive report, amid all the disastrous failures that did not succeed in apprehending the Umbrella serial killer despite their best efforts. It was also that Birkin and his company had been given all the patience that an employer like Umbrella could afford, given the employees' particular genius in the field. However, even that genius would have to be confronted if polite requests, followed by orders, followed by final warnings from above were being ignored.

By now, there was no question that the overstuffed pig who went by the name of Police Chief Irons was protecting the entrance to William Birkin's laboratory, so Mrs Warren already had a note in her diary to deal with the older man at a future date. But for now, she had to get that G-virus, and had done the ultimate act to ensure that she would, which was to ask Hunk to look into it.

Hunk had never failed before, and his loyalty was beyond reproach. Both those variables were almost unheard of in this industry by themselves, but this man was known for both.

So where the hell was he?

How many weeks had it been since he quickly grunted and nodded his head, as was his style, and told her that he'd be back with his team and the sample by nightfall?

Instead, the always-reliable and eternally-loyal soldier had gone missing, as was everyone from his team.

No way could they have been annihilated by anyone from Birkin's staff, which left this as a continuously annoying mystery in Warren's mind.

Since then, four more teams were gathered and unleashed against the same target, and all 26 new soldiers were missing in turn.

For a short, paranoid moment, Mrs Warren thought that maybe the serial killer who had been tearing through the company's executives had originated in Birkin's laboratories, and that superhuman creature had confronted her troops. So she stopped and quietly chastised herself for thinking such ridiculous thoughts.

Seriously, though. What did she have to do to get her hands on the G-virus sample that Birkin's laboratories owed her? Go there and aggressively knock on the door in person?

At any other time, the idea may have been plausible. But what could she do against the defences that apparently awaited there now, if Hunk's team and four subsequent groups of Umbrella's elite soldiers failed?

All this did was make Mrs Warren become angrier, as she thought about the issue further.

Wasn't there anyone else she could ship to Rockfort for failing in some duty or another this morning?


	63. Chapter 53 Splintered Paths

"Jeeesus Christ!", Kevin Ryman stretched his arms behind his back before he burped, "What a day!".

"Kev?", his colleague looked up from his own desk as Ryman was walking past the second officer's workstation, "Tough shift, man?".

"Oh, hey, Aaron", the first officer rubbed his eyes as he hadn't even noticed his friend while the latter previously had his attention diverted by paperwork, "Yeah, dude. Says all you need to know when you have to wait till your eight hours are finished before you get your lunch break".

"What _is_ going on in this damn town?", agent Aaron Algernon continued in the same tone, pointing towards the empty chair that was by the side of his desk, which the younger cop nonverbally accepted, the visitor sitting down to continue the conversation.

"Who the fuck knows, man?", Ryman sighed once he was seated, "Maybe it's the beginning of the end".

He chuckled for a moment.

"Isn't this how the four horsemen of the apocalypse get started?", he then uttered slyly.

"Oh, I don't know", Algernon smiled back, "All my years of reading the bible and attending church led me to believe that the apocalypse is _not_ initiated by an overload of beauraucracy and a small town serial killer".

"Then what's _your_ explanation?", the visitor continued, "Do you even _read_ the newspapers any more, Aaron?".

"Which delightful article are you referring to?", the older officer continued in a more serious tone, the sarcasm in his voice indicating that he knew what his friend was talking about.

"Home invasion where the burglar goes _through_ a brick wall?", Ryman explained. "That must be something pretty awesome."

"Yes", the visitor's role model remembered, "And executed the inhabitant in his bed, if memory serves me right".

"You know of anyone outside of your bible who can do that?", the less experience RPD agent thought out loud, "And if not, then who? Aliens from outer space?".

"There _are_ ways of getting through a wall, Kev", officer Yuen interjected into the conversation while walking up to the desk with agent Brenner, the two men having overheard the conversation, "A battering ram, for instance? The only question I ask myself is that if such a method _was_ used, then why didn't anyone who saw or at least heard the attack actually speak to the detectives investigating this killing".

"There you go", Algernon pointed up towards the two new visitors with his hand while still speaking to Ryman, "But you're correct that the case opens more questions than we can answer, even if one _doesn't_ involve non-human characters".

"Tell me about it, guys", Brenner continued from his standing position as he addressed his three colleagues, "That news _really_ freaked out my two girls when they saw it on the idiot tube. It was all they could talk about for a day solid, even with their school plays coming up".

"To be fair, dude", Ryman grinned as he looked up at his two other colleagues, "If I had the choice between investigating this figurative horseman's murder, or attending Michelle and Lisa's play, I'd pretty much go with the former".

"Oooh, first class comedian, he is", Yuen slapped the father of the two girls on the arm.

"But no, for real, man", Ryman continued, "In fact, I played this video game recently, and you _have_ to see this monster at the end of it. I mean, this thing had more limbs than I could count, and something like that could go through a wall, right?".

The lighter mood he created with the joke prompted a laugh from the two standing men while the seated officer smiled back.

"See, Kevin, _that's_ why you spend your evenings playing video games while us normal people have dates", a new voice mentioned as a fifth man approached the desk, the four cops seeing officer Chassell who stopped near Yuen and rested his folder on Algernon 's workstation.

"No, no, no", Ryman's hero teased back, Aaron Algernon staring up at the newest person there, "Don't include us in your declaration, Sean. Most people don't like the idea of drinking all night and waking up with a hangover as the idea of a good night out".

"Oh, please!", Chassell grinned back, "I'll tell you who's _really_ freaky in her love of bondage clubs. That chick who was dating Donnelly for a while? If you guys have a stressful shift here, there's nothing she can't help you get over. She really digs cops, you know".

More laughter followed from all the cops there as they enjoyed the jocular environment that was direly wanted by the RPD staff members who had been too tense for the last several days.

Unfortunately, it was then that Chassell's cellphone rang, the officer withdrawing the large and expensive communication device out of his uniform pocket and opening it, before placing it next to his ear. His distraction meant that the conversation couldn't continue as desired, so the other four agents stayed quiet while he greeted the caller.

"Yeah?", Sean Chassell waited for the person on the other end to speak further, and only then nonverbally pointed towards the exit, indicating he needed to take the call elsewhere.

Leaving the four men behind as he walked away, the smile vanished off his face as the caller spoke more.

"How many bodies?", the officer asked next, and waited for the reply.

Several seconds of silence as he reached the doorway that led to the staircase.

"OK, will be there in five, chief", he continued, "Yeah, it'll be normal".

Brian Irons gave him specific instructions as the young man was heading towards the station's main lobby.

"Well, that was stupid on _his_ part, chief", Chassell followed, "Then have him tell the witness that the Cerberus was a local doberman or something, and that we're dealing with the dog's owner after it was let off its leash".

More silence from the officer's part as he walked past his colleagues and walked out of the department, proceeding towards his waiting patrol car.

"Give me five", he repeated as he unlocked the front driver's side door, "The boys and I will do our usual clean-up. Just don't worry about it".

Closing the cellphone and returning it back within his uniform, the officer shook his own head as he positioned himself behind the steering wheel.

As he started the engine, he then drove the vehicle, only then remembering to put his seatbelt on, and not looking forward to the chore that awaited him.

Umbrella was not paying him enough for this.

Albert Wesker was being less careful than usual as he proceeded down the poorly-lit street in Raccoon City, the former human who was donned in all black having kept his sunglasses on his face even though the sun was setting. Then again, was it a matter of him being careful, or him being obsessive, that led to the previous captain always making sure he was never seen when he was outside of his cabin?

And why was he asking himself such useless questions now?

He felt for the weight of his holstered 0.50 calibre Desert Eagle, the act being a force of habit, rather than something he needed to do nowadays. After all, did he ever need to use his firearm to execute anyone, or anything, that needed to be disposed of, ever since his resurrection? Passing the small number of pedestrians on the sidewalk, Wesker had to admit that the answer to that question was a negative one. That is, except for the rare occasions when he killed someone or something via his Desert Eagle for sentimental reasons from his RPD days, as opposed to because he couldn't do more damage using his bare hands alone.

But anyway, on to more pressing issues, he thought to himself as he proceeded further towards his destination.

For starters, the much smaller number of people on the streets and sidewalks was probably a reflection of the anxiety felt by most people, even if Umbrella and its many employees within the Police Department were doing their best to hide the influx of virus-induced killings. That fact alone was enough to annoy him, since he had initially, and naively, thought that having Raccoon City Forest be cleared of its monsters via himself and miss Warren would've been enough to rid the city of its unnatural predators. Of course, that had been a mistake, as the killings continued, either the T-virus or the G-virus undoubtedly having leaked and caused either zombies or other creatures to emerge from everywhere.

And how many unfortunate citizens were coming to the city's hospitals and smaller medical facilities, complaining of flu-like symptoms that simply weren't getting better? The medical statistics that were recently provided by the redhead already confirmed what he had dreaded, which was enough for him to become distracted from his much-enjoyed objective of thinning the city's population of White Umbrella executives.

So Albert Wesker already knew this most unpleasant fact - that becoming resurrected, learning of his new superpowers, coming to terms with his alter ego and that man's many crimes, including the loss of officer Frost, all were the easy part. The difficult part of this scenario was about to unfold.

Which was why he had to discuss this event with the only person he could, which was the rambunctious teenager who still didn't seem to treat the problem with Umbrella with the seriousness that he believed she should.

The former human asked himself when Shakahnna Warren was going to stop annoying him about his tactics. She couldn't possibly continue believing that fighting Umbrella could be done via conventional means, without the taking of lives on a regular basis.

Still, though, who else was there to speak about this matter with?

Frost was gone, and all his RPD and STARS colleagues either hated him or thought he was dead.

To be honest, Wesker didn't even know how to address this issue. An infestation of virus-infected monsters, and even thousands of White Umbrella staff members that needed to be removed, were things he could deal with, one kill at a time. But how does one handle the prospect of a city whose population is in the six digits becoming prey to either the T or the G-virus? The invasion of monsters, and the subsequent loss of human and animal life, would be one that even he could not counter.

So for the first time since having regained his senses outside the Umbrella mansion due to being dragged out and saved by the teenaged redhead, Albert Wesker didn't know what to do.

It wasn't a feeling he enjoyed.

But hopefully Shakahnna would've been able to suggest something useful, or anything new that he himself did not think of yet.

He believed that the redhead said that agents Valentine, Redfield, Chambers and Burton were still working against Umbrella, and even amassing weapons. That was something to keep in mind, since those four STARS members must've had trustworthy contacts outside Raccoon City to acquire military hardware, which meant that there were even more men and women that Wesker may be able to count on, in addition to officer Warren, her boyfriend, his own partner, and the four remaining STARS members who were still in the city.

Surely, Wesker taking charge of those seven individuals would be useful, especially considering that one of them had powers that even rivalled his, since she could apparently bring back the dead. And he had a feeling that sooner rather than later, there were going to be lots of dead in their midst.

He continued marching towards his destination as he thought further, the sun having completely set by now and complete dark enveloping the ominous city.

The tall blonde Tyrant wondered how many others that these seven individuals had that they could count on, or was that something he was merely hoping for?

Wesker gritted his teeth in anger as he mentally chastised himself for making so many plans when Shakahnna hadn't even confirmed anything yet.

Was he really expecting to be able to put together a league of fighters who were going to prepare for the upcoming apocalypse?

That was ridiculous.

The surviving STARS members would've never agreed to work with him, much less under his command, again, and the redhead's boyfriend hated him almost as much. That meant that any contacts they had within or outside the city wouldn't even listen to what he had to say, much less allowing him to organize and lead them in some pathetic resistance when this entire city exploded in a figurative tidal wave of zombies and other infected monsters.

He sighed and casually brushed both halves of the top of his head with his hands, passing his palms through his blonde hair as he walked further.

For the last several weeks, he'd been too comfortable, only having an emotional obstacle to overcome when it comes to making peace with the existence of his second personality. But when it comes to physical variables, he had absolutely no problems or complaints, and that was his dilemma now. For too long, he'd been used to literally or figuratively stepping on any person or monster that got in his way, thus the body count that was in the hundreds due to his actions. But now, he simply wasn't coming to terms with the fact that even his abilities were completely insufficient when trying to react to a fully infected city.

The former leader of STARS may have been able to put together some kind of reaction force if he had more resources, like weapons, vehicles, safe houses, and especially soldiers who would follow his orders when all hell broke loose in Raccoon City. But that just didn't seem to be plausible, not when there were only two people he knew who actually liked him, and one of them was dead now.

So what to do? Admit defeat and leave this city? Maybe forget about mounting a resistance and simply concentrate his efforts to forcefully evacuate anyone who wasn't suffering from pre-virus flu-like symptoms? The thousands who were in hospitals and doctor's offices now were already a lost cause, and he knew that all his powers would mean nothing when it came to those doomed individuals. But he may still be able to evacuate other citizens who weren't infected, before they became prey for the infected when the T and G virus fully took hold.

But who would take his word and allow to be taken out of Raccoon City?

Would he have to forcefully remove people?

The idea of rendering people unconscious and simply driving them to outside the city in the truckloads occurred to him. But where could he store them outside of Raccoon City, where they wouldn't simply return here in the upcoming few days once they awoke? And was he becoming so desperate that he was seriously considering such insane actions?

Finally, he had arrived at the address that he was walking towards, and saw that all the lights were turned off. Thus, rather than knocking on the door, Wesker had no problem making his way past the locked front entryway of the home where officer Warren shared with her boyfriend.

Even before he had a chance to ask himself why the lights were off, not even occurring to him that the inhabitants may be out of the home, he proceeded past the living room and towards the bedroom. Taking a look past the bedroom door, Wesker soon noticed that both Shakahnna and officer Chisholm were asleep in the same bed.

This idea of other people needing sleep was still a concept that he wasn't used to, not when he could literally be active for a solid week without even needing to lie down. But it was quite anti-climactic when he had come all this way, even carelessly letting citizens see him, just so he could talk about this most-pressing issue with her, and she wasn't even awake.

Why were they having such an easy time that they were able to sleep so peacefully? Especially when it comes to Chisholm, who seemed to have no sense of responsibility?

Wesker felt a surge of anger within him, and quickly walked backwards and away from the bedroom door, heading back towards the exit that led out of this home. For a horrifying instant, he thought that his alter ego was threatening to emerge, even though he had been taking his medication.

But upon leaving this place and closing the door behind himself, he breathed in and out, and intentionally tried to relax himself, with partial success. So he realized that his second personality wasn't coming out at all.

No, the other person who lived in his own head was still completely dormant, and the rage he felt was solely his own. Leaning with his back against the wall outside Chisholm's address, the former captain felt himself calming down in stages, and wondered what was causing this most useless and inefficient of emotions.

Maybe it was frustration, or even jealousy. However, as he began walking back towards his cabin, without bothering to wake up officers Warren and Chisolm, Wesker had to admit to himself that he had a connection with his alter ego, as both individuals seemed to feel the same emotion sometimes.

What to do once he got to the cabin in Raccoon City forest?

Train more? Do a weapon's inventory? Find a way to acquire even more weapons and ammunition?

Just give up on all this and simply leave the city?

Wesker sighed as he walked further, returning to where he came from.

He had no idea what he was going to do.

It was after the next-day shift from 8AM to 4PM that she was finally free to do what she wished, the eight hours spent at the RPD being relatively uneventful, except for the sporadic scene of officers running off in secret. She didn't know for sure what the exact reason behind the secrecy was, but the squad of men and women seemed to be receiving orders from cellphones, before leaving the station onto unknown parts of Raccoon City.

Maybe those cops were in the employ of Umbrella, or perhaps she should think that they probably were working for the pharmaceutical giant. And maybe they had been receiving orders from their more important employer the whole time, but had the discretion of keeping their affairs private from the rest of the RPD staff. But now, it appeared that some emergency was causing those officers to not have to worry about their image, instead being more pressed to respond to whatever emergency was taking place just now.

Shakahnna Warren wasn't sure how stealthy she was actually being at the moment, a short time before sunset, though she suspected she probably failed to be as graceful and sneaky as she wished.

She was supposed to make sure she wasn't followed, of course, every time she visited the Burton household to speak to the STARS members there. However, the redhead soon realized that while moving without being seen was probably one of Albert Wesker's many talents, it simply wasn't meant to be one of hers.

Instead, just a minute into her journey from Chisholm's apartment to her current destination, the rookie officer moaned inwardly at her own inability to figuratively cover her own tracks. Surely, if anyone wished to secretly be on her trail, then the motions she was going through to supposedly distract her followers weren't working.

Regardless, the teenager continued the process of looking in every direction around herself whenever she passed from one street to another, always pretending to be out for a walk, rather than proceeding towards a particular place in mind. And the task was proving to be more time-consuming and annoying than she had guessed it would be, when she began walking towards the Burtons' home twenty minutes ago.

Finally, she found herself approaching the front door, and soon saw that it was wide open, unlike every time she had been here before. That, by itself, was suspicious, considering how paranoid the homeowner was said to be about intruders working for Umbrella. So for the first time since being hired by the RPD, the young woman wished she had the issued handgun on her person.

Why did she never get into the habit of being armed when off-duty, like almost every other member of the Police Department did? In fact, the only time she had begun keeping the pistol on her was when she visited Wesker's cabin, and that was only recently, and only because she was beginning to fear the risk of his second personality emerging.

Then again, that habit seemed to be more to make her feel more comfortable, rather than to be an effective weapon against the creep who lived inside Wesker's body. The former captain had already explained that regular weapons would be useless against him, and had rolled his eyes when she had countered with her own statement that he was supposedly lying because he didn't wish to be shot by her Beretta.

Shakahnna pushed the thought aside in her head, knowing that this wasn't the time to remember the conversation with her friend, not when there was something suspicious taking place now. So coming closer to the open doorway, more wary than ever this time, she then heard a noise as two individuals exited out of the house.

She heard herself exhaling when she saw Barry Burton and Rebecca Chambers casually walking towards her, the two STARS agents carrying three bags between them, and apparently heading towards his parked car.

"Oh, hello", the Bravo medic smiled first as she saw their visitor, "Are you here for me?".

"I _was_", the redhead replied, "Going somewhere, guys?".

"Not all of us, just her", Burton explained without much emotion in his voice, before taking a hold of Chambers' bag and carrying all three towards his vehicle, "I'll see you there, Becca".

"Thanks, Barry", the 18-year old STARS agent watched him leave, "Just give me a minute, OK?".

The medic then locked eyes with the redhead.

"We should talk in here", Chambers motioned for her RPD colleague, moving back into the home and having Shakahnna follow her.

It was once they were back to the lobby that was past the front door that the Bravo officer first leaned her back against the wall, and then sank to a seated position as she looked up at the other teenager.

"What's going on?", Shakahnna inquired first as she remained on her feet, suddenly unable to keep still, and pacing the floor back and forth in front of the STARS agent.

"Oh, it's a mess", Chambers rubbed her face with both hands before then looking up at the visitor again, "Chris is gone, and Jill won't talk to anyone. Barry last night insisted I leave here too, and go stay with his wife".

"Chris? Gone?", the rookie stopped for a moment, before resuming her pacing, "You mean dead?".

"Nooo!", the medic sighed, "I mean as in Europe, looking for someone or another. He and Jill just kept going at each other about him wanting to bring in help from outside, and Jill not being sure if others can be trusted. He finally said he has to go find someone else. The only time I talked to _Jill_ in the last 48 hours was when Barry asked her to leave too, and she screamed at us that someone should hold down the fort and not everyone can afford to desert their post like we were".

"I don't think she should be staying here by herself, though", the redhead thought out loud.

"She's not", Chambers continued, "Barry's here still, though I doubt she expects him to stay much longer. Something about her pretending to have psychic powers and predicting that he'll crack like an eggshell and run to his wife and brats. Or something along that line. It's hard to remember what Jill was saying verbatim when she yells that loud".

The medic cleared her throat, and stopped talking as she looked up at the less-experienced cop.

"But you didn't come here for a social call, did you?", the Bravo agent asked, "You want to talk about what I learned regarding the virus?".

"I _do_ have time to chat if you want", Shakahnna relaxed by leaning her own back against the wall across from the small lobby, "This can't be easy for you to go through. You OK?".

"It's alright, I'll live, thanks", Chambers gave a tired smile, "I think that the sooner I leave Raccoon City, the better Barry will feel anyway. So, what little I know is this, and most of it isn't stuff I've discovered, but rather what I read in the mansion or in that folder that some stranger apparently left for Chris and Jill to find in the middle of the night".

The redhead said nothing, pretending to not know who the stranger had been.

"The only constant in this virus is that everyone and everything reacts differently to it", the Bravo agent explained, "Some are immune to it while it's initially airborne, while others die from the airborne infection and can later be re-animated without any coherent brain activity. Some are also immune to infections spread by saliva or blood, like by being bitten by the infected, while others who are bitten will also suffer the same fate. Some mutations after infection happen quickly, and others happen very slowly. Basically, this virus is akin to a nuclear bomb – something that is wholly destructive and has no place in existing".

"I'm glad it's finished, then", Shakahnna thought out loud.

"Is it?", the medic questioned while locking eyes with her, "How do you figure _that_?".

"The mansion's gone, and my sources tell me the infected animals and zombies have been cleared from the forest", the redhead went on, again being careful not to mention how she knows the second fact.

"And something this hellish was limited to such a small area as Raccoon City?", Chambers next thought out loud.

Just silence from the rookie, as the severity of what she was told became apparent on her face.

But Chambers had to be wrong about her fears of the virus returning. After all, no one else could be worried about that. Shakahnna was only being paranoid about her anxiety, so being told that there were others who felt the same way was bad news indeed.

Then again, when was the last time she received some good news from anyone?

"Rebecca! Come on!", Burton's urgent tone pleaded from outside the house, causing the medic to groggily stand back up.

"I should go", the STARS agent gave another tired smile, almost as if she was asking for the redhead's permission to be dismissed, "Too bad, too. If Chris had been here...".

She trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

"That's OK", Shakahnna resumed, "Uh, I'll talk to Jill sometime, see if she...".

"I wouldn't just now", Chambers interrupted, "Give her a couple of days".

Silence again as neither woman said anything for a moment.

"Just trust me on this", the medic continued, "She's _not_ in the mood for visitors just now".

Sadly moaning to herself, the Bravo agent placed her hands in her pockets and simply walked out of the doorway, returning to where the older man eagerly waited.

What else was there to do, but to follow? Shakahnna closed the door to the Burton family home behind her, and watched both STARS members drive off, seeing Chambers wave goodbye from inside the vehicle.

Would Wesker know what to do? Would Chino and Donnelly?

Or would tonight be better spent relaxing, for a change?

Come to think of it, when was the last time she had seen her adoptive father and sister?


	64. Chapter 54 That Maternal Instinct

In another part of town, an individual who appeared to have a particular fondness for all black attire was making his way down the street, moving swiftly, a single-minded focus to reach his destination. Dressed in ebony boots, trousers, tucked-in shirt, with sunglasses and a similarly-coloured cap over his head, Wesker thought to himself, once again, that his actions were less careful than advisable.

Perhaps it was the euphoria that followed such a busy day, which caused him to partially recant on his usually rigid code of conduct, and was now prompting him to walk around the darkening streets of Raccoon City trying to impersonate a regular pedestrian. But executing no less than sixteen Umbrella wage-slaves in six hours was an accomplishment indeed, between tracking down those targeted individuals, breaking through the defences of their environment and finally, and ultimately the most satisfying part of the procedure, delivering the killing blow.

The last prey had been one Xian Zang, who was officially the owner of several successful bakeries as far as his tax records were concerned, but was unofficially the head of White Umbrella's transportation unit. Of course, the image of him being the head of a chain of bakeries was a camouflage, while his $600,000-per-year income was actually earned by overseeing the transport of human and animal test subjects, and later their corpses, to and from Umbrella laboratories.

Again, as before, Zang would be replaced without delay, by someone who potentially would be as efficient as him at the job. But for the next 24 to 48 hours, at least, White Umbrella labs would be inconvenienced at the unavailability of their guinea pigs. This would halt the flow momentarily and, hopefully in league with so many other deaths, would save the lives of some of those captured by the company.

Was the rambunctious redhead, who he had failed to communicate with yesterday, correct? Did he require some time to relax, to figuratively smell the roses? Or was his view the accurate version instead, that such activities were wasteful as long as there were more pressing issues to attend to? That view translated into more people to execute, since he was not feeling physically or emotionally exhausted yet.

But the whole point of unwinding was so there would be no need to recover from exhaustion later.

After having been awake for several days in a row, the list he had in his mind of those high-ranking Umbrella executives and employees never appeared to dwindle. No matter how many of them he disposed of. After all, the array of names, positions and home and work addresses was literally thousands of lines long, starting with Raccoon City, then expanding to the rest of the country, and even the rest of the planet. And while he didn't need to write them down due to his much-improved memory since having experienced resurrection, he also knew that such a long record could not be impacted against so easily. It would not show visible reduction by chopping down its numbers even with his current number of fatalities.

Wesker stopped, having been surprisingly distracted by what he saw in the window of a restaurant, as more sirens and lights screamed past him on the road. It sure seemed to be a busy evening for emergency services, the former captain having heard several of them during the two miles he had been walking so far in the city. He would have to investigate those incidents further, he noted, especially since some of them may involve his feared outbreak of either the T or the G virus.

But surely a kill count of sixteen could justify him taking half an hour out of his busy schedule to enjoy a sweetened beverage and a slice of strawberry cheesecake, which the nearest restaurant was selling to its patrons. The former RPD captain instinctively reached for the handle of his holstered Desert Eagle, suddenly remembering that he had no money on his person, and had not dealt with cash since having been revived in the mansion. He also hadn't had anything to eat for the sake of its taste since that fateful day.

So could he follow the redhead's advice, and take a break briefly at this time?

The answer to his question came in the way of a female scream from further down the street, so Wesker turned his attention in that direction. His eyes widened momentarily behind the sunglasses when he also heard a man further away yelling out "What are they?", and the blonde man knew that there would be no time for respite now or perhaps ever again if his fears were realized.

Time stood still and, ahead of him, pedestrians and motorists alike were being inundated with a horde of zombies, the walking monsters attacking people at random, and threatening to outnumber the civilians who were on the road. How their ranks had swollen so quickly was beyond Wesker's understanding.

He initially began marching in the direction of the ruckus, even as further screams of fear, breaking glass and the screeching of cars stopping suddenly was heard behind him. Reaching for his loaded Desert Eagle, he was about to withdraw the weapon, already knowing that he had eight flathead rounds in the firearm, with another clip left in one of his pockets, when he saw more sirens racing in his direction.

He had to think fast, as RPD lights hurried towards the scene. He could have assisted, and risked exposing the fact that he was alive to whichever officers were at the scene, or he could have disappeared. Considering how many RPD staff members were secretly working for WU, being seen by even one of them would have taken apart his main advantage against his enemy, so Wesker reacted rationally to the dilemma, and quickly forced his way through a locked door nearby. Surely, armed officers would've been able to suppress the zombie threat fairly easily and without trouble just now, and that would allow him to continue his war against Umbrella on the long run. But just to be on the safe side, Wesker jogged up the ascending staircase that led to the upstairs apartment which was situated on top of the restaurant.

As more screams and sirens were heard outside, the former captain first knocked on the door of the apartment, and hearing no reply, he simply forced the doorway open by shoving his shoulder into it. A dark-two bedroom home greeted him, as the occupants were not there at the moment, which meant that he had no need to commandeer the place, instead reaching the first closed window that overlooked the street below. That gave him the vantage point he required to assess his options.

Standing next to the windowsill, keeping himself mostly hidden to anyone outside, Wesker looked and listened as hell seemed to open up in the road below.

Marked RPD vehicles hurried to a stop as uniformed men and women climbed out of them, carrying shotguns, handguns and M-16 rifles at the ready. The cacophony of Police-issue firearms discharging soon joined the noise pollution of humans screaming in fear and pain, and zombies growling in hunger, the two-legged monsters being attacked by a barrage of gunfire and succumbing to the bullets.

That was a sign that things were going as Wesker had expected.

As if to demonstrate more favourable odds, the regular RPD officers had support, as a dark-coloured van squealed to a halt nearby. Over a dozen SWAT members in dark blue uniforms and standard facemasks rushed out of the large vehicle, armed with MP5 submachine guns and eager to use the weapons. Creating a line of officers ahead of the advancing zombies, SWAT and regular officers continued opening fire against the enemy, dozens of infected former-humans dropping onto the ground with holes appearing all over their bodies. For a short time, the hail of bullets sounded louder than thunder during a storm, even drowning out the yells from the civilians or the snarls of the monsters.

Having run out of ammunition, both SWAT and regular officers eagerly reloaded, and resumed the offensive against the zombies, more beasts dropping dead after being struck in the head and torso.

Unfortunately, what appeared to be a figurative tidal wave of zombies just wasn't slowing down regardless of the resistance faced from the gunfire. As the number of incapacitated zombies passed a hundred, more monsters rapidly took the place of the dead beasts, slowly but steadily approaching the line of officers.

It was when the first SWAT team member got shoved backwards, and past an open RPD vehicle door, that Wesker suddenly realized that things weren't going as expected, and the advancing monsters may actually have ended up winning this stand-off. He heard someone on the street yelling at his colleagues to not give up, and the two kinds of officers there seemed to follow that advice, standing their ground even as zombies broke past the make-shift human chain and attacked the RPD staff.

Regular cops and SWAT officers were now struggling for their own lives as some of them succumbed to the inhuman onslaught, while others continued killing the monstrous attackers.

And as the scene developed on the street below, Wesker angrily took off his cap and threw it aside, knowing he still had the choice of preserving his advantage against White Umbrella, but only if he did nothing at the moment.

After all, destroying WU and its influence on the planet was what mattered. What happened on one street, in one town, wasn't nearly as important as killing Umbrella and burying it.

He had discarded his job as a police captain, so it was not as though he owed any loyalty to the officers who were fighting the zombies now, or any service to the civilians who needed help.

Unfortunately, all the sensible reasons which made themselves known did not matter, and instead, Wesker swore under his breath as he withdrew his Desert Eagle, and then jumped out of the closed second-floor window. Landing gracefully onto the street below amid a shower of glass, he took aim with his right hand, and enthusiastically fired the weapon at the horde of zombies, easily decapitating eight monsters.

Since his rebirth he had not felt so tightly wound. The potential for things to move out of his control was approaching and it was not a prospect that he relished. Standing now was the only real option. He quickly loaded his last clip into the weapon and repeated the process, this time marching towards the crowd of virus-infected humans and killing eight more of them in the process.

Wesker then holstered the empty Desert Eagle, and gripped the head of the first zombie he reached via both his hands. A strong twist led to a sharp ~crack~ as the monster collapsed due to its broken neck. Another beast tried to lunge at him with its arms extended past its shoulders, looking to sink its teeth into his flesh, before the former captain simply gripped the monster's neck with his extended right hand, keeping it at bay. Wesker then grasped the side of the zombie's head with his left palm, and let go of its neck, before slamming its head into a nearby streetlamp, crushing its skull in the process.

Despite his assistance, however, the situation was deteriorating around him, going from pessimistic to grave as more humans died, and more zombies were replacing the fallen fiends.

So Wesker grabbed a discarded M-16 rifle that was on the ground, near the body of a dead RPD officer, the better to annihilate his prey from a distance if needed for more effectiveness. Ensuring that the rifle's safety mechanism was off, he then spotted what appeared to be arrival of armed mercenaries, who were fighting the zombies alongside the RPD.

At Wesker's left, one mercenary was busy throwing a grenade towards a target, not knowing that a female zombie was about to attack him from behind. At the same time, and at Wesker's right, he saw a younger, blonde-haired mercenary who was firing his M-16 rifle, that person having been cornered against a wall as four zombies converged around him. The second mercenary waved his weapon back and forth, angrily firing countless rounds into the torsos of his four stalkers, and tearing chunks of flesh out of them. However, he was too panicked to realize that only bullets to the head usually dropped such monsters where they stood. After all, Wesker remembered from experience that a typical zombie could literally receive two dozen bullets into its torso and keep advancing, while a single round into its skull would stop it immediately.

The scene unfolded in front of the former RPD captain in slow motion, under a backdrop of the dark sky and the harsh yellow lights of the streetlamps above. The Tyrant wasted half a second wishing that he had two weapons in his possession, so he could attempt the risky manoeuvre of shooting with both hands at once, while keeping his left and right arms horizontal to the ground as both mercenaries were about to die on opposites sides of him.

However, simply wishing for the presence of more firearms would not solve anything, so he hurriedly picked the scenario at his left.

One round exited out of his M-16 rifle and found its mark in the female zombie's brain, causing that creature to drop dead before it reached her target. The approximately 40-year old mercenary who had just tossed a hand grenade to explosive effect never knew that his life was just saved due to the commotion.

Hurriedly turning around to the scenario on his right, Wesker was about to take aim with the rifle and dispatch of the four zombies who had crowded around the younger soldier. However, a male zombie, who previously seemed to be a teenager, lunged at the former captain from behind. The man in the sunglasses twisted and smacked this new attacker in the face with the butt of his M-16 rifle, causing the beast to stagger to the side. Then, Wesker delivered a left front kick into the monster's stomach, sending the zombie flying fifteen yards backwards and into the air, before it crashed into a streetlight and collapsed onto the ground.

Not paying attention to see if it managed to get back up or not after being kicked, Wesker finally rushed to pay attention at the scenario from before, rifle at the ready, but narrowed his eyes behind the glasses when he realized he was too late. The younger mercenary was already dead, his corpse twitching as the four zombies who surrounded him were feeding on his freshly-killed remains. So the Tyrant only exhaled in a mixture of annoyance and disappointment as he pulled the trigger four times, executing the four monsters from a distance with a bullet to the back of the head each. A fifth and final round was fired to the head of their victim, to ensure that the young man would not turn into a zombie himself and force someone else to later suffer the same fate.

He then paid no more attention to that area, as there was much more to be done.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Shakahnna didn't know what had caused her to be awake, but she knew there was fuck all chance of going back to sleep now, not when her eyes were still sore. She knew from much past experience that no amount of rubbing them was going to make the itch go away, but that didn't change her reaction to them, wiping at her eye sockets with the outside of both index fingers, and getting increasingly frustrated when nothing improved. It was fruitless and eventually she decided to do something with herself.

Kissing the sleeping Chisholm on the forehead, the redhead proceeded towards the darkened living room and flopped on the sofa. Absentmindedly using the remote control to turn on the television set, she was still grumbling to herself about the pain she experienced as the monitor flickered to life.

Something about her fucking job had caused her eyes to be so painful. She wasn't a stranger to watching television or using a laptop, of course. But for some reason, having to look at the computer screen at RPD headquarters caused her eyes to dry up halfway through her shift. At least they hadn't gone crusty and made her blind yet. Maybe it was the fact that she had to stare at the PC monitor from a much closer distance than she'd normally watch television.

And no matter what games she played on a console, or whose laptop she tried unsuccessfully to hack into, those were only activities she took part in for an hour or two, as opposed to typing report after infinite report for several times longer at work.

She sighed at the thought of all this potential magic, including the totally fucking amazing pyrotechnic show that came from making fire out of thin air, and she couldn't even heal the common soreness that followed a typical day at work. So it seemed that her cunt kicking power to never having to carry lighters again wasn't as impressive as she would like to think, as the teenager casually hopped from channel to channel on the television. Not that she was bitching there, she rather liked fire.

Infomercial, sitcom rerun, sports, sitcom rerun, news. Lots of bullshit, in short, though she stopped at this latest channel, and watched as the female journalist there was anxiously speaking while holding a microphone several inches below her chin. Seeing that the reporter was standing in front of several cars which had obviously collided against each other, amid fragments of glass and metal, the rookie officer increased the volume.

"Good evening, I'm Emily Corrie-Smith", the journalist announced in a hurried fashion, "In what I've been told is a series of ongoing disturbances…".

It was all the familiar woman got to say, because the next sound was that of a moan which caused Shakahnna's eyes to widen as she froze in place.

The last time she had heard such a sound was when she was stuck in the dick Wesker's personal hellhole, having seen the result of what that creep's experiments had done to human beings. She had sincerely hoped to never see those creatures again, and to never hear the awful sound they make.

But how come she had suddenly heard it emanating from her television screen now? A wave of goosebumps assaulted her arms and suddenly she felt quite cold. Hairs on her arms raised up as panic began to creep into her chest, causing her heart to thunder maddeningly against it.

Emily Corrie-Smith said nothing else, her statement having been interrupted as she screamed.

She yelled again as a zombie had marched up to her from behind and struggled to easily drag her down to the ground. The reporter shouted a third time, and Shakahnna watched the live show in horror as the cameraman called out the journalist's first name and dropped the equipment to help her. The result was that the camera ended up pointing away from the grisly scene, aiming at the evening sky instead, while both television employees were heard screaming as more sources of moans joined the original zombie attacker.

The live news was replaced with a still picture that stated the programme was experiencing technical difficulties, and the teenager remained immobile as she wasn't breathing for several long moments, still barely able to believe what she had seen.

How had these monsters found their way to downtown Raccoon City? How long has this been going on while she had been asleep? How many of those creatures were running around just now? What was she supposed to do with all the weapons she'd been stockpiling? What was the Police Department supposed to do? Where the hell was Wesker with his showy superpowers?

"Shak? What's going on?", a sleepy Chisholm turned on the living room light as he made his way into this place, "Is someone here with you, love?".

"NO, no I mean no", the teenager dried whatever tears were threatening to come out of her eyes as she stood up, "Get Donnelly up right fucking now, sweetheart".

"Yeah? Why's that?", he walked over to give her a hug, which she returned, wrapping her arms around his lower back as she buried her face in his shoulder, clinging tightly to his body.

"Because I think the world may be ending", the rookie cop whispered back.

"What? No, seriously, why?", he replied with a smile while still in the embrace.

"Wake up Donnelly and get all our guns, Chino hunnie", she told him, "I'd like you both to come with me so I can kick the fucking shit out of the mayor and his slut-whore of a wife".

And something that was unusually sombre about her voice told her boyfriend that she was being absolutely serious.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

This evening was supposed to be an ordinary one.

Meeting with five of her closest friends for a soy-based, decaf, sugar-free, caramel-flavored mocha frappuccino, the six girls drinking a few servings as they each discussed how difficult a life they currently had, and each teenager being interrupted by another who wished to interject their own life into the discussion.

Instead, one of the cleaning staff at the restaurant was said to have the flu by the manager. That, by itself, wasn't all that odd. But the waitress who was supposed to take their orders simply wasn't showing up.

When the young woman in the sleeveless one-piece white dress that reached down to her knees had voiced a complaint, it was done in full view of everyone else. It mainly involved her standing up from her seat and exclaiming to the manager behind the counter that she wasn't an inmate at a labour camp and she should receive better service, so the middle-aged man had gone to the staff area to learn what the delay was. He had returned two minutes later, and politely told the six teenagers that the waitress also seemed ill with the flu, and apologised profusely for the delay.

A woman who was about the same age as her mother had followed her supervisor soon after, clearly appearing ill, but apparently refusing to go home as she knew the restaurant was short-staffed tonight. Of course, Joanne Warren had reacted with a less-than-sympathetic response, verbally stating that the older woman looked awful and the mayor's daughter didn't want the waitress to come close to her in fear of giving her the germs.

The problem, though, was that something truly did seem to be wrong with her face. Joanne had never seen a flu that caused such grey and purple blemishes to appear on someone's features, as the older woman seemed unable to stand straight, much less finish the rest of her shift. That, by itself, caused the blonde girl to stop acting in her usual way, and she became more serious, actually trying to ask the waitress if the latter was alright.

Unfortunately, any sense of normalcy ended there, since the poor waitress hadn't moved, and collapsed even before the mayor's child could ask anything else. People gasped in surprise as the waitress was now lying on the floor and next to their table, a few of Joanne's friends rolling their eyes or sighing since this meant they'd have to wait even longer to be served.

The manager had rushed over, and squatted next to the woman, and asked that maybe she should go home after all, without checking to see if she was hurt as she remained face-down. It was Joanne who had stood up from her seat and withdrawn her cell phone, dialling for an ambulance and not bothering to tell her friends to shut up, or informing the manager that the waitress needed to be in a hospital.

At that point, the waitress had turned her whole head around, and only growled at the people there, and suddenly her face didn't seem human any more. Joanne had only gasped as her eyes widened, and it was the only reaction she had time for, before the older woman bit the manager in the ankle in the way that a starving animal snatches food. The manager screamed, Joanne screamed, her friends screamed, other customers in the restaurant screamed and rushed away from their tables. The teenager had retained her grip on her phone, and managed to finish dialling the number for an ambulance, and was about to ask for a Police car on top of that due to not knowing what was going on. Except the line to the emergency services was dead.

How could the line to ask for an ambulance or the Police be dead?

That was impossible, wasn't it?

The waitress stood up at this point, and physically overpowered the older manager, dragging him down to the floor as she bit him further, sending him yelling louder than anyone else. All of her friends were rushing towards the exit of the restaurant by now, a bottleneck caused at the exit door as every other patron in this establishment, other than the blonde teenager, wanted to leave at once. Joanne blindly grabbed the first thing her free hand found, and wrapped those fingers around a tall, empty glass off her table. She threw the glass at the waitress, and it broke on her head, and the older woman didn't even seem to notice the attempted distraction.

Another thing that had the body of a human, that was dressed in human clothes, but that definitely didn't walk, sound or have the face of a person, staggered out of the staff area. This second man growled as he made his way towards the crowd of people that were around the exit, slowly making their way out of the restaurant due to constantly struggling with each other. He bit one of Joanne's retreating friends, and pushed her backwards at the same time, shoving the teenager through the nearby window, before the girl's upper back smashed through the glass. She fell outside and landed on the sidewalk, and her attacker clumsily fell through the broken window and collapsed on top of her.

Some of the crowd saw the opportunity to escape, and rushed through the smashed window also, not bothering to see if Leslie or the male waiter who had rushed towards the girl were alright. Joanne couldn't think. She couldn't breathe, and she kept clutching her useless telephone as if she was a drowning person holding on to a life preserver. Not that she knew what good a mobile phone would be if she couldn't get a connection anywhere.

But it was when the waitress has finished murdering the manager, and taken several chunks out of his carcass, and then stood up to slowly look at her with a bloodied mouth and hands, that the mayor's daughter started crying and decided it was time to get away to somewhere, anywhere else. Whether there were other people or not, she just wanted to escape.

She bolted towards the door, now finding it empty, and rushed outside, turning around long enough to see that Leslie was lying in a pool of blood that spread underneath the back of her head. Her friend's attacker, however, slowly climbed back up to his feet, and began drooling as he left Leslie there and began inspecting her from a distance. Joanne had never liked jogging, but she learned to run away at this point. Except there was nowhere left to run to, as all of Raccoon City seemed to be going to hell at the same time.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

She had been running for the last ten minutes, though it felt more like an eternity as the teenager was making her way past monsters and their victims. She was still holding on to her phone long after she lost her purse due to a beast having grabbed her, and she had escaped his grip after letting him have the container that had her money and make-up.

Her parents would know what to do. They always did, especially her mother. Her mother would know how to react to this impossible situation. Running the two miles that separated the restaurant from the mayor's mansion, the teenager ignored the choking sensation in her throat and the burning of her lungs as she dashed past the empty guard's booth.

The helicopter!

She heard the rotor blades turning, which meant that the helipad was being used. If so, then that's where her parents would be, probably co-ordinating an evacuation of everyone in the mansion.

Joanne kept running, heading in the direction of the helipad, and further into the mayor's residence, even as a voice in the back of her mind mentioned that if an evacuation was taking place, it meant her parents' home was being attacked as well.

Exhausted, and rushing still, the teenager finally made it to the area just outside the large helipad, in time to see her parents climbing into the helicopter from a hundred yards away as a pilot had the engine on. Her mother got in first, and her father was telling her to hurry, as three of those inhuman things were slowly approaching them. There was no one else there, which didn't leave an optimistic impression in regards to what happened to the rest of the staff.

But the blonde girl had to keep running, which she did, and yelled at her parents to wait as she waved one of her arms back and forth over her shoulder. Surely, her parents couldn't leave her here, abandoning her to the monsters, without even knowing where she was.

Fortunately, her father saw her, and stopped his progress into the helicopter. He turned around and frantically pointed in Joanne's direction, and his thankful daughter didn't feel so horrible.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"She's too far away", Elena Warren casually stated as she continued buckling herself into the helicopter seat, even after she saw the scared teenager running towards them.

Then addressing the pilot, she nodded her head once, the man in the cockpit understanding that he wasn't to remain here. Not when waiting for the blonde girl meant increasing the odds, however slightly, of any of the three zombies making their way to the helicopter, especially when none of the people in the helicopter carried a firearm just now.

So why wasn't her husband climbing in, already? Instead, the city's mayor remained on his feet, just outside the machine, the whirl of wind and sound making it difficult for him to continue talking to his wife through the open door.

"For god's sake, Elena, she's our daughter!", Michael finally blurted out, his hand gripping the doorway to the flying vehicle, as his attention turned to his wife, then back to Joanne's approaching figure, then back to his wife again.

"Michael!", Mrs Warren snapped, having already had a very bad day, "This helicopter is leaving in five seconds whether you're on it or not".

He knew her voice was completely even despite the situation. She was attached to her husband well enough, but he would be fairly easily replaced. She could not risk her own life for anything, her flesh and blood or otherwise.

The city's mayor hesitated, even as his wife counted up to three seconds in her mind. Then, taking one last look behind him, seeing that Joanne was still too far to reach them in time, Michael Warren climbed inside the helicopter and closed the door behind himself. The pilot caused the vehicle to be airborne even before Michael was buckled his seatbelt. The last sight the mayor saw was his daughter stopping her run towards him as the teenager was looking up at the helicopter, with the zombies still scattered on the helipad near her.


	65. Chapter 55 Commuter Beware

The five miles' distance between officer Chisholm's apartment and the mayor's mansion felt more like it was a cross-country trek. What had started as an alarming trip to get herself to the mayor's home, to either ensure his safety or to use his fucking bitch of a wife as a punching bag, or both, soon ended with Shakahnna, Donnelly and Chisholm realizing they couldn't proceed far with the RPD cruiser. With the majority of the roads blocked with either hordes of monsters, panicking humans, or scores of abandoned vehicles, travelling by car became impossible before the trio had driven one mile.

So the rest of the trip had to be done on foot, two of the three cops making good use of the standard-issue side arms they were provided with by their employer, each of them keeping a count of how many clips they had left as the Glocks were continuously discharged. In the ensuing chaos, neither man noticed that the redhead wasn't discharging her firearm, keeping the handgun at the ready, but preserving her ammunition in case her two colleagues ran out. Instead, the newest cop relied on the tactics she learned when hunting with captain Wesker, snapping zombie necks and stopping those creatures dead if they came too close, while her comrades shot the targets non-stop.

Initially, once out of the abandoned car, whose extra ammunition, radio and shotgun were taken, they had decided to destroy any zombies they came across while on their way to the Warrens' mansion. That included shooting the monsters from a distance, whether or not the beasts were a danger to them or anyone else. Very soon, though, it became apparent that the number of undead antagonists was much larger than they could've imagined, thus the need to conserve their ammunition, and the use of deadly force was limited to only zombies who were an immediate threat.

In addition, it also became unfortunately evident that anything other than the firearms wasn't going to incapacitate these adversaries, as even pepper spray that was used against a zombie's eyes from a few inches away proved to have no effect. So the now-useless weapons were left behind, the three officers only carrying what was proven to be effective.

There wasn't time to keep count of how many monsters were killed, and how many civilians were saved, and how many civilians were not able to be saved, each person they encountered being advised to seek shelter within RPD headquarters instead. But holstering the Glock, and finally nearing the location where the mayor lived, it was time to become more creative.

Shakahnna had picked up an 18-inch long branch at the moment, using the makeshift weapon to stab yet another zombie in the forehead, forcing the item into its brain and causing it to crumble towards the ground. Not that any number of kills lessened the cacophony of screams and gunshots beneath the darkened sky, even as an explosion was heard in the distance due to a car slamming into a wall and bursting into flames.

They could see the Warrens' home a few hundreds yards away now, the mayor's mansion being surrounded by sporadic zombies, as the rest of the city seemed to be, when a possibly new problem showed itself.

It was subtle at first, easy enough to not pay attention to and ignore, considering the hellish background that was around them. But a minute later, tremors were heard, and felt, underneath everyone's feet. Shakahnna had looked at the two men who were half a dozen steps behind her, and they had stared at each other for a moment, before locking eyes with her.

It would've been considered an earthquake, if this region of the country had suffered from that natural phenomenon.

Unfortunately, Raccoon City had never had an earthquake in its entire history.

Neither of the three officers had time to verbally ask the question that they were all thinking, because the source of the tremors revealed itself. What appeared to be a cream-coloured worm that was the size of a cable car burst through the asphalt that was below them. This new monster leapt vertically through the air, copying the manner of a dolphin that jumps out of water, before it came crashing back down towards the ground.

The three RPD officials screamed as they dove aside to avoid being crushed underneath the worm's weight, the monster having created a large hole in the ground from where it emerged, and cracking the asphalt where it landed. Rolling on the concrete before rising back to her feet, the redhead saw that the beast was lying horizontally, gaping its huge mouth in her direction as it screamed a noise that was akin to anguish, so loud for a moment she thought it had perforated her ear drum. Initially showing off four large teeth, each of which pointed towards its centre, it then opened its jaw further to reveal hundreds of smaller teeth further down its body.

If Shakahnna had more time, she would've had to rant for an age about the irony of a monster deciding now was the time to make its presence, and its threat, known to the population, just as zombies were infesting the city. Of course it would have to greet Raccoon City now, joining the chaos that the smaller zombies had already started, almost as if it noticed that a party had started and it didn't wish to be left out of the celebrations. But that was for another time, as her view of both male cops had been blocked by the behemoth, Chisholm and Donnelly repeatedly firing at the giant worm from behind it, and the redhead seeing in its reaction that the two officers' gunfire didn't seem to damage it at all.

The rookie cop heard her own name being yelled out from the other side of the beast, recognising Chisholm's voice as the person who was panicking. The older man may have thought that the redhead had been crushed underneath the worm when it landed, so she interrupted him by calling his name back, which was heard, as he quieted down.

"I'm OK!", she blurted out as she instinctively stepped back, putting some distance between herself and the giant screeching worm as the monster was rotating the front of its body back and forth, looking at her, then looking behind itself towards the two male cops, and then back to her again, "I need to find my parents and Joanne! You two go to your parents, Chino, sweetheart! I'll meet you there!".

"No way!", it was Donnelly who responded first, emphasizing his protest by firing several more rounds of ammunition into the side of the worm, which the monster didn't seem to feel again, "I'm not sitting around some house while all THIS happens!".

"It's the safest place! Please, I'm safe no matter where I go!", Shakahnna countered, wincing at the squeal that emerged from the larvae's mouth, reminding her of a high-pitched imitation of static, white noise pounding her head and sitting inside her brain.

"What about my _parents_?", Chisholm was addressing his partner next, and the older man's silence indicated that Donnelly may have been convinced by the latter argument, "But Shak! We need to get to you first! Unless you see a way to get past this THING and come _here_ instead!".

"I'll meet you guys at your parents', I swear!", she blurted out even as she was in the process of backing away further, but this time to move closer to the mayor's mansion, as opposed to inching away from the immobile giant that blocked her view of the two men.

She may have been better off not seeing Chisholm's face anyway, since it meant that the task of having to separate from him would've been slightly easier, and she honestly didn't know if she could do it if he had locked eyes with her to protest. So knowing that the young man would have a problem with her idea to not stay together in favour of finding the Warrens, the redhead turned around and began running in the direction that she had to go. There was nothing else to do if she continued this discussion with the two other officers anyway, not when she needed to find her parents and sister, and they wanted her to go to Mr and Mrs Chisholm's house instead.

Doing anything else would've been a waste of precious time. She just hoped this wasn't going to be a horrible mistake she regretted later.

"Is that all you could find?", Henry Bustleton gasped in pain while he was seated on the kitchen floor of the Warren mansion, the middle-aged man pressing a towel that was wrapped around the bloody wound on his left shoulder as he grimaced in pain.

With his back pressed against the kitchen counter, the butler looked up at Sean Meega, the mayor's assistant holding a butcher knife in one hand and a meat cleaver in the other. While both weapons were at the ready, the younger man remained on his feet, looking away from his colleague, and paying full attention at the door that served as the only way in or out of this kitchen, and connected this area to the rest of the mansion, and the hellish creatures that now roamed throughout it.

"Don't sweat it", Meega gave a smirk that was more confident than he felt, "This is where I make a smartass remark about not needing anything more than this to finish off every single one of them".

The smile disappeared off his face when he heard steps approaching the doorway from outside, and both men's bodies tensed as they held their breath, desperate to hear who or what was coming close. If it was a person, then that individual would've been welcome to find shelter here, of course, but what if it wasn't?

The steps were slow, which meant it was probably a creature, but then again, it may have been a person who was being wary, or who was injured, or who simply wanted to be quiet in an effort to not attract attention. And then, both men heard that terrible moan from the other side of the door, even as the zombie who stood on the opposite end of the entryway tried to pull the door open by pulling at its knob.

Bustleton gasped in fear and pressed the towel against his injured shoulder with more force as he made an effort to stand back up, though he failed and remained on the floor while flailing. Meega, on the other hand, placed the butcher knife on the counter nearest him and kept the cleaver in his right grip, and grasped the doorknob from his side with his own left hand, and began pulling the door shut even while the monster was trying to open it.

"No you don't!", he exclaimed, winning the tug-of-war and managing to shut the door again, and swearing for the tenth time because this wooden entryway didn't have a lock on it.

Then again, he'd had a lot to be aggravated about in the last few hours, since having found Bustleton staggering in the dining room and complaining that his own wife had attacked him in their bedroom, biting a chunk out of his shoulder. After that, Meega had helped the older man find a phone, and called for an ambulance, and had received no response from the emergency operator. They had tried to contact the Police, and got the same lack of answer. And to make matters worse, Mrs Bustleton didn't seem to be the only one who had suddenly changed into something that was no longer human, the middle-aged woman having appeared and started shuffling towards her husband with a blank look on her face.

Poor Henry Bustleton had tried to talk to her again, telling his wife that he wasn't angry, but he just wanted to help her, before Meega knew that something wasn't right. Especially worrying was that the older woman wasn't the only resident of the mansion who no longer seemed to be a person, but was rather reacting with the instincts of an animal. He had grabbed the older man by the right arm and pulled him away from his wife a moment before the latter lunged towards her husband, and he dragged Bustleton away, past more of the inhuman things, and ignoring the few human corpses that lay in pools of their own blood in the process.

To make matters worse, both men knew that only the security staff in this mansion were armed with handguns, and none of them seemed available just now. Bustleton and Meega had seen a couple of already-dead guards who were beyond help, and a couple of guards who were no longer human also, and guessed that the rest must have evacuated when all this craziness started.

So without Police being reachable now , and without any firearms nearby, what was there to do when the thing on the other side of the door tried to open it again? Meega didn't think of a rational answer, instead letting his frustration, fear and anger prompting him to scream as he saw the female beast moaning while she reached for him from the other side of the now-open doorway. The young man lunged forward and buried the sharp edge of the meat cleaver into the thing's forehead, glad that it went down without a sound and collapsed onto the floor, and also glad that he didn't recognize who the monster used to be back when she was a person.

Withdrawing the bloodied cleaver out of the zombie's head, Meega than stepped back into the relatively safety of the kitchen and closed the door behind him.

"How _are_ you?", he next walked towards the man who was on the floor and squatted next to him, wiping the monster's blood off his weapon via another towel in the process.

"Been better", Mr Bustleton coughed, "Thanks, Sean. I just…".

He closed his eyes, his head slumping forward as if he was having trouble staying away, and letting go of the pressure on his injured left shoulder that was supposed to slow down the bleeding.

"No, no, no!", Meega shook his colleague by the right shoulder, snapping Bustleton's eyes open, "You don't get to fall asleep yet, Henry. You need to stay awake till we get you out of here and into a hospital".

"I don't… think that's going to hap… happen, Sean", the butler breathed heavily as he looked ahead of himself, "You can't even… call them… It's probably… like this… all over the city".

"Maybe, maybe not", the young man countered with more energy, "Or maybe these things just happened to damage power lines or phone systems or whatever, but help is on the way".

"Yeah… maybe…", Bustleton's head dropped as his body slouched further, "I just re… member those STARS… They said… this happened… Don't remember… what else".

Meega's face turned when he heard a female voice calling from outside, sounding as if she was lost and asking if anyone was around. So he stood up, ignoring the soreness in his legs as he squeezed the butler's knee first.

"You hang on, Henry", Meega whispered as he turned back towards the door, "Will be right back".

Opening the door and sneaking a peek outside, all without remembering to arm himself, the mayor's assistant breathed a sigh of relief at seeing Joanne Warren. In her turn, the teenager's eyes and mouth widened at noticing him. He put his index finger in front of his mouth to indicate that she should be quiet, and then motioned for her to come closer, which she gladly did, wincing at the dead zombie that remained behind herself and the doorway.

"Sean! Oh, thank God!", the teenager exclaimed while embracing him even before the door was closed behind her, "I don't know what's going on mom and dad flew off and I came here from lunch and…".

"Joanne, we need you to be quiet", he whispered as he hugged her back, "We don't wanna let them hear where we are".

"They left me they seen me but they left me. Left me here, they left me here", she repeated in a more hushed tone as she separated from him, "And my friends! I left! We got separated and I just and I just ran!".

"We need to find a way out of here", Meega advised as the teenager hugged herself and looked around, seeing Bustleton seated nearby.

"But it's like this _everywhere_!", she spoke in a slower pace as she walked towards the butler, "Oh my God, Mr Bustleton! Are you OK?".

She bent down to bring her face closer to his when he didn't answer, the middle-aged man's closed eyes not opening.

"Uh, Mr Bustleton?", Joanne asked again, patiently waiting in silence as she heard only her own heartbeat, in addition to the heavy breaths that she and Meega were taking.

A small part of her mind asked why it was only her and the younger of the two men who could be heard wheezing as they were calming down, even as the mayor's assistant first stood next to her, and then squatted down into a seated position.

"He's been tired since one of those things…", he stopped talking, a look of worry crossing his face.

"What? What is it?", the teenager looked down at him first, and then towards the butler, "Mr Bustleton? Please wake up?".

"He said something about hearing this happening before, a few months ago, when those STARS were at the RPD", Meega thought out loud as he kept staring at the older man's face, thinking that the butler was deceased, "I recall them too. They had reported seeing such creatures in Raccoon Forest. I thought they were liars".

He rubbed his forehead.

"I don't recall anything else those STARS had said", he added, "Had they mentioned how this is passed?".

"Stars? What stars?", the young woman felt confused, "Look, I don't do astrology, OK?".

The mayor's aide didn't have the chance to reply, because Bustleton's eyes snapped open, and he drooled while moaning and reaching for the young woman. Joanne extended both her hands down towards him, expecting him to have woken up, before she was forcefully pulled backwards by the younger of the two men. She only had enough time to protest once before she looked back and saw that the older man's skin was suddenly peeling off as the butler rose to his feet.

"Henry? HENRY!", Meega addressed his colleague as he pulled the mayor's daughter behind him and ushered her backwards still, pushing them both to the farthest corner of the kitchen as Bustleton moaned and extended his arms in their direction, "If you can hear me, I need you to wake up, man! I need you to snap out of this and beat whatever's _in_ you!".

Only a groan from their sluggish pursuer, the middle-aged eyes appearing lifeless as a thin film of darkness covered his eye sockets, and his head twitched.

"I don't think Henry's alive any more, sweetie", the young man advised as Joanne gasped in horror and used both her hands to cover her mouth, "I'm not sure how, but I think these things transfer their essence, or whatever, to us by touching us. Don't let him touch you!".

He didn't say anything else, gripping the handle of the meat cleaver and warily approaching Bustleton on a course to intercept him.

"Sorry, man!", the young man swung the weapon in a horizontal arch, the blade striking the zombie's jaw even though Meega had aimed for a quick kill by aiming for its brain.

The weapon cut through Bustleton's mouth from the left side, digging halfway into the creature's teeth, and causing the left half of its mouth to hang down. Not feeling any pain, though, the zombie proceeded forward, still moving towards the two humans as it moaned further. So Meega left the cleaver lodged in his former colleague's mouth, and took a hold of the butcher knife, before finally swinging with that second weapon, this one slicing through the left half of Bustleton's neck, causing red and black blood to gush out of that new wound.

Finally, the zombie sank to its knees as it choked on its own blood, and it was only then that Joanne remembered to stop holding her breath and screamed.

Absolute bedlam.

There was no other way to describe the scene inside the RPD.

Hundreds of officers and civilians, fear everywhere, disorganized and sporadically individual resistance to the zombie onslaught from outside, with no one to pull this place together under effective leadership.

Too bad Albert Wesker was officially dead, as he was sure he would've made a better commander to try to save this place than Brian Irons ever could, even if Irons wasn't already a corrupt Umbrella puppet who cared nothing about the problem. But marching through this place, he understood how panicked everyone was, considering that no one noticed his presence when he didn't even have to hide his identity any more.

Somehow, it was clear that nobody was going to be shocked, calling out his name in surprise and demanding to know where he'd been for the last few months when he was reported dead.

Still, though, he had to ask himself if it was wise to be here just now. After all, he was pushing his luck while roaming though his previous place of employment, till it was only a matter of time before someone did recognize his face. And that would've been the end of his crucial edge against his most hated enemy, with Umbrella knowing that he was alive, and possibly understanding that he was the reason behind the hundreds of murders of its high-ranking staff.

So what had prompted him to be here at all in the first place?

He had his trusty .50 calibre Desert Eagle, and more bullets for it than he knew just now, not to mention his superhuman abilities to annihilate any virus-infected monster, and his resistance from being infected by either the T or the G virus.

So why wasn't he out there, wrecking havoc on the creatures who were wrecking havoc on his city?

First, he had wished to find officer Warren, and second, he had wished to protect and defend those who were in danger, which meant just about everyone in Raccoon City other than him, at this time. The former task he knew he could not accomplish, as Shakahnna was proven to not be in this building. The latter, on the other hand, was an instinct that he seemed to carry over from his days as a Police captain, and it was what officer Frost would have wanted him to do during such an emergency. But how was he going to protect anyone if doing so would expose his face to his former subordinates, and worse yet, to members of the RPD who were in a figurative bed with Umbrella?

Unless there may be a way around this predicament.

Looking around the desk near which he stood, he read over the paperwork there, seeing the transfer papers for a certain rookie officer by the name of Leon S. Kennedy. The picture of that particular young man was there, along with his address and other personal details, and the information stated that he was due to transfer to the RPD today.

With any luck, young agent Kennedy didn't have the chance to enter the city before the outbreak started, and he was hopefully outside Raccoon City just now, wondering what was happening.

Also, with further luck, his absence may have been Wesker's advantage, which is what caused him to search through the women's locker room, ignoring the people who were there, and being ignored by them. It didn't take him long to find some brown-coloured hair dye, which he used on himself over the sink in that same area, and thought he had done a fairly good job of turning his blonde hair colour into brown, considering he had never done this before.

Looking at a picture of officer Kennedy, and then his own reflection in the mirror, it was possible that he could've passed for the rookie cop, as long as he didn't spend too much time speaking to any of the staff here.

Screams from outside the locker room, so Wesker bolted in that direction, in time to see that one of the many huddled civilians had turned into a zombie, and was busy biting another person in the neck. Blood gushed out of the victim's wound as the male zombie dug its teeth further into the flesh, eating as it proceeded further, while other civilians around the two of them yelled further in terror.

This was such a simple task, his casual demeanour made it look easy as he rushed there, and pushed the zombie face-first against the floor. He then stomped on its head, crushing its skull with little effort, and ending that particular menace.

However, paying full attention around him, the former captain saw that the zombie's victim had also died, as that unfortunate man was lying on his own stomach on the floor, a pool of blood gathering beneath the corpse's neck. A woman was on her knees and crying hysterically next to him, probably being his wife, or his sister, and she would be his meal once he stood back up as a zombie after some time.

So Wesker did the only thing he knew how when it came to protecting and serving. He walked over to the cadaver, politely grasped the grieving woman by the arm and removed her from the vicinity of the corpse, and then crushed the dead man's head beneath his boot. He rolled his eyes when the woman who was upset screamed even louder, trying to physically attack him, as this was one form of attention he simply could not afford.

Other officers and civilians got distracted from the tasks they had, and were starting to gather around, so the male Tyrant paid no attention to her, and simply left that location.

He could not afford to be here, not when every act he took part in was going to increase his chances of being spotted.

And with all due respect to his friend and colleague, Wesker didn't think that wasting his ability here was putting his powers to the best use possible, even if officer Frost may have insisted he does so back when the young man was alive. Surely, being outside the RPD, and unleashing all his strength and stamina against the monsters, would be a better use when it came to protecting the Police headquarters from being attacked by infected creatures.

His mind made up, the former RPD captain withdrew his sunglasses, and put them in front of his eyes as he proceeded outside. While nonchalantly withdrawing his powerful handgun along the way, he felt himself actually looking forward to demolishing all the creatures he would come across.

No worrying about his face being seen, no having to track down Umbrella staff members to execute in secret, no having officer Warren annoy him about his murders. As soon as he stepped outside, anything that was infected would be destroyed. The thought was enough to cause a smirk to appear on his face as he was in the RPD lobby and heading towards the main exit.

A view out of the corner of his eyes caught sight of a teenaged boy, who was terrified and huddled in the space next to an unused desk. The boy saw his pleased facial expression, and appeared surprised, and then seemed offended that this man was apparently enjoying himself while everyone else was in such fear.

Of course, Wesker erased the smile off his face, knowing he'd have to still be careful while he was among humans.

A few more moments, and he was outside, and his head spun from one end of the street to the other. While this situation was undoubtedly bad, it would get worse very soon. If the tall man in the sunglasses were to return to his cabin in Raccoon forest, he could grab his arsenal of weapons, rocket launcher included, and bring all those armaments to help him obliterate the beasts.

He could run to his cabin in about two minutes, take one minute to pack his arsenal, and be back in downtown Raccoon City two minutes after that. So in five minutes, his fun could begin.

Not wasting any more time, Albert Wesker started running in the appropriate direction.

Jill Valentine wasn't sure if she was glad or irritated that agents Redfield, Burton, Chambers and Aitken were no longer in this city, the STARS agent being dressed in a copy of her clothes back when Alpha team stormed the Umbrella mansion.

Having witnessed what was probably the beginning of the end for Raccoon City from her home, the young woman had dressed in that familiar outfit. Then, it was a matter of grabbing her double-barrel shotgun, along with the 50 shells for the weapon, and her STARS-issue Samurai Edge pistol and eight clips for that firearm.

But rather than storming out of her safe haven to meet the hell that was suddenly her hometown, the RPD officer had driven to Police Headquarters, forcing herself to ignore whatever carnage she saw on the way. After all, she had to be completely prepared for this fight, and she was not so just now.

Valentine had known that such a nightmare was coming, ever since her team was ostracised by the rest of the RPD, but especially in the last few days, when individual zombies had been spotted, and then gotten rid of, by herself on a regular basis. The last one had been just yesterday, when the young woman was out on her 2.5-mile run around Raccoon City park, and she had seen a male zombie that was staggering in the bushes. So rather than interrupting her workout, the cop had casually jogged to a large, nearby branch that lay on the ground, picked it up, ran towards the monster, and then beat it over the head with the branch till its skull was cracked and it was no longer moving. Afterwards, she had dropped the bloody piece of wood on the ground and simply continued running.

So not surprisingly, that situation led to the much more infested one now, where the officer had driven to the RPD, used her STARS identification card to swipe into the armoury on the second floor, and helped herself to riot gear. She was wearing that now on top of her Police uniform, complete with a helmet and visor, shoulder pads and shatterproof shield that should've helped her avoid being bitten by these unnatural attackers.

And as oddly as it sounded to think, if it weren't for the constant screaming and death all around her, the female officer would've found this situation to be quite a relief, as she had waited for this event for so long now.

Thus, Valentine had been driving for the last several hours, having run over several zombies via her car, having used 42 rounds of her shotgun to finish off 26 of the same beasts, and was now on foot as she was dashing towards a cable car that she spotted in the distance. From what she saw via her binoculars, she spotted at least two zombies who were stuck inside the metal box, and from the smoke that emerged at the vehicle's front, it was clear that the bus had crashed against an electricity pylon.

Due to the piles of abandoned vehicles between her own car and the public transport lorry, she had to park her car haphazardly before rushing towards her destination on foot.

Reaching the scene, the brunette woman found it to be a sight that was similar to the scenes she had seen throughout this doomed city. The transport itself was destroyed, that much was obvious, as the driver and a majority of the approximately two dozen passengers were not moving, with blood smearing much of the windows.

Either a rider on this bus had been overtaken by the virus and changed into a zombie, causing the crash, which in turn killed many of the people inside, or the vehicle had slammed into a sudden stop during the chaos that gripped Raccoon City, which left the doomed persons who were inside to be visited by a virus carrier. If it was the latter, then the carrier must've been a rat or a crow, or something else that was small enough to climb into the bus via one of the windows that was partially open, as the only door to the cable car was still closed from the inside.

At another place and another time, she would've made a cynical comment to herself about how people who were forced to use public transport in this town already had it bad enough. So surely that shouldn't have been the last memory they had of this life, stuck inside a deathtrap that was probably twenty minutes late in picking them up in the first place.

Agent Valentine surveyed the damage, and didn't have to take long in sadly understanding that every person there had met a fatal end, and had no hope of ever being rescued. To emphasize her point, three zombies were busy slowly patrolling the cablecar, staggering in the space between the two rows of seats, occasionally taking a bite out of the passengers, and then continuing their trek back and forth through the vehicle. Seeing her, two of the monsters stopped the act of snacking on the dead riders, and fully turned their attention towards her, leaning on the window that faced the STARS agent who remained standing outside. Maybe the prospect of eating fresh meat was more alluring to their senses than that of dining on the flesh of dead creatures. Regardless of their reason, though, neither creature was able to break the plexiglass that served as its windows, instead slapping their palms against the transparent vertical surface uselessly.

So what to do now?

Valentine thought of her few options. She could either leave the zombies where they were, as they seemed to be unable to get out just now, and continue her search of the city to find survivors to save and monsters to destroy. Or she could walk onto the bus and use her shotgun and handgun to massacre the three zombies there, and also to put a bullet into the heads of the immobile riders and driver, to prevent them from returning as zombies now that they had pieces of their own flesh missing from where the infected creatures had interacted with them.

The former made more sense than the latter, since the second option had her using a lot of ammunition. Then again, what if one of the zombies eventually succeeded in breaking through a window, or even the door, and the two dozen cadavers who may have turned into monsters themselves followed it out, and spread throughout the city in their own turn?

So the RPD officer prepared the shotgun, having made up her mind to not leave these beasts here, and proceeded towards the door leading into the vehicle.

And stopped when she noticed that the hood of the bus was damaged from the impact the cablecar suffered, the horizontal metal frame that covered the engine being lifted several inches into the air.

Maybe she could have it both ways, where the zombies could be dead, and her ammunition could not be completely used up.

Valentine returned the shotgun back onto her person without using it, and moved towards the front of the bus, lifting the hood and inspecting the engine. With her background in engineering, she quickly found where the petrol and the oil were located, so she already knew what makeshift plan she would use.

Carefully stepping away from the wrecked bus, the young woman withdrew her handgun instead from twenty feet away, conserving the shotgun and its larger ammunition for more dangerous encounters. Taking aim with the smaller firearm, she pulled the trigger once into a particular spot of the engine. The first 9mm bullet seemed to have no effect, and neither did the second, but the third round she sent into the engine caused a large spark, followed by an blast as the front of the bus exploded in a fireball.

The fire quickly spread to the rest of the vehicle, engulfing the driver and the first few rows of passengers, as the zombies saw that the flames were approaching them, and walked away from it, proceeding to find temporary shelter towards the back of the cablecar. Not that their current location would've saved them for long, as Valentine judged the distance they were away from the approaching fire, and the speed the flames travelled at, and guessed that they had one or two minutes before the entire vehicle was burning.

Holstering her handgun and rubbing her face in a mixture of sadness and frustration, the young woman turned away from the grim scene and walked back to her car. She heard a moan emanating from behind her, and while she knew she should not, she turned around to look at the creatures whose destruction she had caused. The STARS agent saw the three zombies leaning towards the windows as they faced towards her. With the fire coming ever closer to their position, one of them withdrew its hands from the melting plexiglass, and the skin from its palms remained on the window, though it didn't seem to feel any pain as it continued moaning at the brunette.

If she didn't know any better, Valentine would've thought that they were feeling sad and wished for her to stay, asking her where she was going, and why had they been forced to remain in such a horrible place where death was coming. Of course, she didn't have the time or energy to mourn for these unfortunate creatures, not when people and animals were being massacred en masse everywhere, and she couldn't even do anything about those. So this was three dead zombies, and about twenty dead potential zombies.

And how much safer was Raccoon City?

Valentine knew better than to answer that question. In fact, she knew better than to ask it, as she was beginning to think that her city was truly without hope, and no amount of fighting, rescuing or killing was going to save it. If that was the case, shouldn't she just give up, and try to find a way out of the large town? She heard more moans from inside the bus as two of the previously dead passengers had stood up, now causing five zombies altogether to be burning as the vehicle was engulfed in flames.

Still walking away, Valentine reached for her newly-issued STARS identification card, withdrawing the thin piece of rectangular plastic that had her picture and information on it. Initially looking at it, she then considered the option of throwing both the card and her RPD badge into the burning inferno, her position as a Police Officer suddenly having lost what little meaning it used to carry since her return from the mansion in the forest.

Ultimately, though, she returned her identification card back within her pocket, and kept her badge still pinned on her vest.

Not that they meant anything, but she considering how important being a cop had been at one point in her life, she should at least get rid of them when she was out of this mess, whenever that may be.


	66. Chapter 56 The Dearly Departed

Shakahnna Warren kept her left hand gripping her step-sister's left palm, the rookie cop pulling Joanne behind her as the pair were followed by Sean Meega. The blonde seemed to barely hamper the marching pace her sister had taken. Passing by the hundreds of people who were huddled throughout the RPD lobby, offices, hallways and even staircases, the redhead proceeded towards the destination that she had meant to find ever since locating the two survivors from the mayor's mansion. No one questioned them or were in their way, so it would be a quick journey at least.

Up the steps, past more hysterical civilians, and less vocally scared civilians, and quietly frightened RPD staff. Always passing several members of the RPD staff. Knowing some of them personally, she was sure they were pretending to be more confident than they felt at the moment. Definitely for the sake of those who were desperately counting on them for some safety amid the insanity that was taking place. It was not something that really they had signed up for, but at the same time, not many had shrunk away these new obligations.

And she was glad, at least, that no one here was fucking mental enough to be excited about this apocalypse, she thought to herself as she led Joanne into the correct office on the second floor of the RPD.

Sure that it was the thought of a certain sunglasses-wearing blond who had provoked her musing. Still, she knocked on Chief Irons' close door with her free hand, and then opened the door without waiting for an invitation. Inside the most lavish office in this department, the teenager found the chief to be holding an impromptu meeting with several of his captains while all were seated around his desk, the energetic conversation there suddenly having come to an end when Irons saw who was visiting him.

"Sweetheart!", the middle-aged man in the business suit stood up, leaving his jacket behind the chair, before he politely addressed his high-ranking staff, "Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen".

Irons eagerly marched towards the three people who had walked into his office, first nodding at the rookie cop, and then affectionately embraced the mayor's daughter, who hugged him back by letting go of her step-sister's hand, before the older man physically separated from her and shook Meega's hand.

"I'm so glad to see you're alright", he addressed Joanne first, and then remembered that two more people were with her, "All three of you." He added quickly as though not wishing to offending anyone. "My men and I are discussing the best way to deal with our unfortunate situation, and we have _every_ confidence that we'll regain control of the city by daybreak tomorrow. But till then, I want you three to stay here with me, in my office".

"Yeah...", Joanne's tone was quick and enthusiastic, before she quickly corrected herself.

She cleared her throat, glad that she could breathe easily and her lungs weren't feeling as if they were on fire any more.

"I mean, that sounds good to me", Joanne turned to her two fellow survivors with a smile as it was somewhat easier to talk here than elsewhere in the building, "Maybe just we can make ourselves at home here till tomorrow?".

"Well, you two can", the redhead replied, "I've others to find".

Withdrawing her RPD-issue sidearm, she held the barrel and pointed the handle towards the mayor's biological child.

"You remember how to use this? What I showed you before?", Shakahnna inquired as Joanne nervously took a hold of the weapon, "Don't worry. Safety's on just now".

"Um... yeah, I do", the taller girl nodded, looking the picture of misery, her hair tangled and her eyes red from crying.

"Any questions?", the rookie asked next, getting a shake of Joanne's head in response.

"Then you and Sean sit tight", Shakahnna patted both her adopted sibling and Meega on the shoulder and proceeded out of the office.

She wasn't sure if she was surprised or relieved that the Police chief didn't challenge her decision to leave, Irons letting her go as she wished. So the teenager asked herself for a moment if what she was doing was best for her step-sister, even if she was separating from Joanne to find Chisholm and Donnelly. But she quickly told herself to stop being so silly, as there was nothing to indicate that Brian Irons was a bad person. The opposite in fact, his ability to stay calm under pressure was an asset to his character. Just because he was staring at some blonde Barbie who was in a tight dress a long time ago didn't make him some kind of sex pest. Even she herself had gotten more than one eyeful of Joanne's rack.

Besides, Shakahnna seriously doubted anything like sex was on anyone's mind right now, considering the city was falling apart.

Surprisingly, it was Meega who protested next, gripping the rookie's arm as she was about to leave the chief's pristine office, the slightly older man locking eyes with the cop, and then with Joanne, before he cleared his throat, as if he was about to say something that someone here wouldn't want to hear.

"What about me?", he finally uttered, "What can _I_ do?".

"You stay here too!", Joanne eagerly told him, "I mean, who is gonna play games or talk with me until tomorrow?".

"Jo, what's important is that you're alright", her mother's employee smiled back at her answer, "I'm glad we got to meet up and we came here. But I can't just sit back while all this is happening".

He embraced her in his own turn.

"Just for a few hours, I'll go help out", he added while they were still holding each other, "I'll be back here come sunrise, and we can get some breakfast and go find your mom and dad together, OK?".

"I still wish you'd stay", the older girl repeated as they separated and she kissed him on the lips, intentionally saying nothing about her parents and her current opinion of them, considering what they had done to her.

"A few hours, just keep Mr Irons company till then", her friend reassured as he stepped back towards the office door, "When you see the sun coming up, I'll be right back here, I promise".

"That's very brave of you, Mr Meega", the chief added, "You stay safe out there, son, OK? Both of you".

He placed an affectionate arm around the mayor's daughter's shoulders as he returned his attention back to the group of captains.

"You relax on this couch here, darlin', while my men and I continue our discussion", he led the blonde teenager deeper into the office he currently shared with several of his commanders as the other two visitors quietly exited, his attitude noticeably softer and calmer with the young lady present.

The last sight Shakahnna saw was that of her step-sister looking over at the redhead and Meega as the pair walked out, the rookie cop winking at Joanne before closing the office door behind them, and the two individuals returning to the loud cacophony that was the rest of the RPD.

"Would you like me to come with _you_?", Meega asked the rookie cop as both descended the stairs back to the lobby, prompting an interesting mental picture in her mind about what would happen when he saw her using one of her abilities out in the city.

Not that it should matter, considering the dead were walking the earth, but regardless.

"Thanks, it's cool", Shakahnna smiled at him, passing a storage locker along the way, and picking up another Beretta pistol to compliment the clips that were already in her uniform, "I'll be fine, really. Maybe see what needs done here? They are gonna need all the fucking help they can get here. Cause everyone who's left is gonna be breaking down the door, you know?".

They were barely within the lobby when a zombie did just that, smashing through the wooden barricade that had been nailed in front of one of the ground-floor windows, prompting screams and panic to be heard from the people near the front door. Before the redhead even had time to think of a proper response, and any of the other cops there could level a firearm after the countless number of times they had done so earlier, officer Marvin Branagh confronted the monster while carrying a baton. He swung the thin weapon horizontally, before it cracked the zombie's forehead open, and caused it to collapse on the floor. Still working to get back up, the creature only saw Branagh aiming at its head again with the same instrument, a second blow to its face forcing its bloody brain matter to dribble out of its destroyed skull.

"Threat neutralized", Branagh announced to no one in particular in a voice that was much too casual for his environment, indicating this wasn't the first time he had done this exact task tonight.

Placing the baton back within his uniform, he grunted as he bent down and then picked up the corpse of the zombie, exerting himself as he carried the monster's body on his shoulder, on his way to dump it outside the building.

"Rita needs a rider, if anyone's interested!", he announced as he exited the lobby and was met with the cooler evening breeze.

The RPD staff member simply dropped the zombie on the pavement outside, and stepped over it as he saw two Police vans that were driven by a single officer each. Presumably, the vehicles were being used to be sent out into the city to pick up civilians, before returning them to the fortress that the headquarters was supposed to represent. At least, that's what Shakahnna assumed was happening when Branagh began holding a heated conversation with both drivers, a blonde-haired female cop who was only a few younger older than the rookie herself, and a male officer who was about the same age as Branagh. From the look of it, it seemed that Branagh was refusing to have anyone drive out of here without travelling in pairs. This was an idea that his female colleague was happy about, but his male counterpart didn't think they had the time.

It was all the redhead had time to see before being distracted by another officer within this lobby, spotting RPD agent Brenner there. Seeing that none of Brenner's family members were there with him, the teenager marched up to the older man, and tapped him on the shoulder. He seemed startled to have her get his attention, while Shakahnna spotted Sean Meega out of the corner of her eye as the mayor's aide was busy speaking to officer Branagh just outside the front door.

"Where are your wife and daughters, Brenner?", the redhead inquired, noticing that her older colleague was unarmed.

Had he lost his sidearm, or given it to someone?

"Back home, I think", the anxious man told her, "Why are you talking to me? Don't you have anything else to do?".

"Then that's where _you_ should be", the teenager placed a Glock and the extra clips to the weapon in his hands without him expecting it, "Take this, and bring them here. Nobody here is going to be annoyed that you pick up your duties when they're back"

Brenner's face seemed to portray the confusion he felt, part of him wishing to run off and do as the rookie cop advised, and the other part not wishing to abandon his post. However, it didn't take him long to finally nod in gratitude towards the redheaded officer. He had never thought of her as an ally, until now, and ran out of the lobby.

On the way outside, he jogged past the area where Meega was climbing onto an RPD van along the young blonde female cop, the one named Rita, settling down behind the wheel, while the mayor's aide put his seatbelt on in the front passenger seat. While the civilian was trying to be comfortable with the use of Branagh's baton, having had no experience with firearms before, Marvin Branagh himself rushed into the second van, both vehicles soon driving off with a pair of people in it.

So now that Brenner, Meega, Branagh and the drivers of both vans were gone, all Shakahnna was left wondering was where she could try to find Chisholm and Donnelly.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Look, not saying you have to give me that canon you have there", Jill Valentine's companion mentioned as both individuals were proceeding down the street on foot.

Having found that even a car running well and full of petrol was useless when most of the roads were cornered off, the brunette STARS agent had moved on foot soon after leaving the bus inferno. She soon had felt that the riot helmet and shield gave her a headache and felt too heavy to carry, respectively. So the young woman had dropped them both in the middle of the road, walking ahead while still dressed in her RPD uniform and kept the shoulder pads on her figure, carrying only the two firearms and as much ammunition as she had for both weapons.

Searching for more survivors, Valentine had spent an hour by only coming across zombies, before finally hearing someone who addressed her in English, as opposed to by moaning at her hungrily. And that particular human being turned out to be a person who called himself Dario Rosso, the middle-aged and out-of-shape man accompanying her as they were making their way to his apartment on foot, which was still three miles away.

"Mr Rosso, I told you before", she uttered without looking in his direction, her gaze always in front of them as they kept walking, and regularly visually scanning both sides of herself and behind her also, "Considering you have no experience using either weapon, they'll be next to useless for you, even leading you to possibly shoot yourself or me if you panic".

"Umph", he snorted back sarcastically, not believing her, "Right".

"Agree or not, it is the case", Valentine continued, the shotgun ready to blast apart anything unnatural that her vision saw, while the handgun was tucked away within her uniform, "You're better off being an extra pair of eyes for me, and staying near me if an attack occurs".

"But you're not _using_ that second piece just now!", he protested further as they marched further ahead on the empty road, passing burning cars and zombie and human cadavers along the way, "I _will_ give it back to you when you run out of ammo for your canon, love".

Was it her imagination, or was she speaking to a wall? Her insistence that a handgun being used by someone who has no experience with such a weapon would be wasteful was always falling on deaf ears. This was the third time he had brought up that topic, and the third time she had to tell him the same thing in a different way, all three times done in a polite and professional voice, of course.

Though the reasonable point of view she had to carry when addressing him was getting more and more tiring. Valentine wasn't sure if it was the exhaustion and stress of the last day that was responsible for this, or the fact that Rosso was simply an irritating civvy to be around.

She mentally chastised herself for that last thought, the young woman telling herself that his personality didn't matter, as he was clearly upset and worried about the welfare of his family. And being in possession of a weapon probably just made him feel safer, in addition to causing him to think that he'd have a better chance of reaching his wife and children. Besides, she didn't go so far out of her way to find humans to save, only to complain about their personalities.

"What're you running some chicks' club, or something?", Rosso snapped next, his voice rising in pitch as he became more irritated, "You only give out guns to people who have ovaries, while us with dicks get left out in the cold?".

"What the fuck are you...?", she turned away from the path in front of them, while the shotgun was still aimed there, and stared at him, feeling indignant at his attitude for an instant, before forcing herself to calm down yet again, for her sake, if not for his.

Surely, there was a way to find a compromise here, one that didn't involve leaving this man behind to fend for himself because he was royally pissing her off. Looking around, the young woman smiled at an idea she had, and began walking to the side, towards a hardware shop that was beneath a set of apartments.

"Where're do you think you're _going_?", the older man exclaimed, not following her into the darkened store where all the lights were turned off.

"Give me two minutes, Mr Rosso", Valentine pointed towards her companion, advising him to not leave the area where he stood, not that he seemed to be moving from there anyway, "Will be right back with something to help".

Carefully sneaking inside the shop, the STARS agent kept one hand grasping the shotgun, while she quickly withdrew her flashlight and aimed a beam of illumination inside the shop. She disappeared inside the store, Rosso not seeing her further, and almost expecting a scream from her, or at least a burst of gunfire, as she possibly came across more monsters.

But he heard nothing, counting a full minute and a half in his mind, before his escort from the Police Department finally emerged from the shop. Having returned the flashlight back within her uniform, Valentine now held a battery-powered drill, with a three-inch long and quarter-inch wide metal tooth at its tip.

Smiling, the brunette approached the civilian, and pulled the trigger of drill once, causing the machine to turn on, as the metal tip spun at hundreds of rounds per minute.

"All yours", she offered the makeshift weapon towards him, "I can't imagine _any_ creature surviving if they come to you and you greet them with this. But to make a kill quicker, I'd suggest drilling them in the brain if possible".

She expected that he'd be grateful for the self-defence instrument she brought to him. Instead, what she received was the older man angrily scoffing at the drill he took from her, and then examined it for a moment, before throwing it against the ground by their feet.

"What're you, shitting me?", he barked, veins protruding out of his neck as he pointed his right index finger at her, "You think a toy like this is gonna achieve _anything_ against undead fucks who want to _eat_ me?".

"Mr Rosso, it's really the best chance you have to reach your wife and kids in one piece!", she irritably tensed her face and countered his fury while locking eyes with him, indicating that she wasn't backing down or changing her mind.

"Fuck your charity!", he wisely didn't try to advance on her, guessing that she could've incapacitated him in a physical struggle with no problems, "All I wanna do is get back home and rescue the book that I never got to finish! And no feminist bitch is gonna take that away from me!".

She was about to ask what he was referring to in regards to herself, and also to mention sarcastically that his worry over his family was touching.

Instead, she only saw her antagonist grabbing his own left arm, as his eyes bulged even wider than before, and he gasped and sank down to his knees. Rosso collapsed on his side, looking up at the young woman, and lost the ability to breathe as he then rolled on his back on the concrete.

"Fuccckkkhhhhhhhhh!" was all he managed to utter as the cop realized he was having a heart attack.

"No, no, no!", she dropped the shotgun by her feet as she hurried to crouch by his side, "Nonononono!".

Feeling his pulse, and finding none, she also checked his mouth and nose, and saw that the older man wasn't breathing.

"Don't you die on me, dipshit!", Valentine ordered as she began performing CPR, pushing both her criss-crossed palms over his heart five times in quick succession, "I'm _not_ spending all night without saving anybody! And I'm not telling your family why their idiot father isn't here to ruin their evening!".

She proceeded to pinch his nose with her right thumb and index finger, while pushing the back of his neck upwards via her left hand, before locking her lips around his and blowing air into his mouth.

No reaction from the previously loud man, whose eyes remained open and glazed as they stared lifelessly at the night sky.

Valentine returned to pressing her palms against his heart again, and swearing at him, and Umbrella, and this whole city, and still not finding a sign of life.

And off in the distance, the only sound that greeted her was that of a howl, probably made by a dog that had been infected by the virus earlier tonight.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Officer Davidson hurried along the second floor of the RPD, becoming more anxious as he found it harder to ignore the screams all around him.

He didn't dare leave the Police headquarters just now. He knew from what he saw, and was told, that outside was even worse than here. At least his fellow cops would probably help out if he was attacked in this environment. It seemed that relatively few zombies managed to break through the front door or barricaded windows. Then again, he wasn't having any luck finding any place that was quiet enough where he could make his crucial phone call to his employer.

White Umbrella had issued every RPD staff member who was working for the pharmaceutical company with mobile phones, the small device being the most expensive ones that could be purchased. But the use of these phones when calling WU was strictly monitored, and every Umbrella employee who was also an RPD member knew that one should never be overheard when making a phone call to WU.

Just about now, though Davidson couldn't care less about the pharmaceutical company's directives when it came to the mobile phone usage. He just needed to find an area that was quiet enough where he could make a call and hear whoever was on the other end. The corridors and lobby were much too loud, and every office he visited was also stuffed full of employees and civilians.

Finally, he came across a tiny broom closet, and rushed in, closing the door behind him and breathing out a sigh of relief that no one else was in this small area. Blindly reaching up in the darkness till he found a light switch, he turned it on, and illumination from a single overhead bulb shone, making it possible for him to see around him.

Of course, the officer didn't care about the cleaning equipment that was stored here for the janitor, so he eagerly withdrew his mobile phone, and pressed a series of buttons to contact White Umbrella via speed-dial. He swore out loud to no one in particular when he was told via an automated voice that he had to wait in a queue to be able to speak to a receptionist, Davidson only hearing the sound of his own breathing and the noise of his heartbeat.

Two long minutes passed, the uniformed man's respiratory system calming down in the process, though the stress he felt remained the same at being told for the fourth time that the call was important, and he should not hang up.

"White Umbrella, how may I help you?", a female receptionist answered at last, causing Davidson to be surprised and relieved at the same time.

"Hi! Yes, hello!", he blurted out, "This is Philip Davidson at the Raccoon Police Department. I am stuck here and we are being over-run! We need help now!".

"Sir", the woman replied much too calmly from the other end of the conversation, "White Umbrella is well aware of the seriousness of what is taking place all over Raccoon City. Please rest assured that our valuable staff have not been forgotten. Rescue plans have been initiated earlier this evening, and assistance is on its way throughout the city".

"Where the hell ARE they, then?", the cop countered, "It's all been us keeping ourselves alive over here! How can you say there's...".

"Sir!", she interrupted him, speaking more forcefully this time, "I'm afraid that speaking to me will not change anything. Now, help _is_ on the way to your location, as I said. I suggest you keep an eye out for the UBCS teams. They have been ordered to give priority to Umbrella staff first, and they should be there in no time".

"Haven't you been listening to anything that I've...", Davidson shot back, getting more irate and desperate due to not hearing what he wished.

"You are not the only person in this city to be in need of assistance tonight, sir", the woman continued, "So please follow procedure and don't call here again".

He was still trying to come up with something to say, or even a rant to have, that was going to convince her to change her mind and agree to help now. Unfortunately, he was still speechless when the receptionist on the other end hung up on him.

For the first time tonight, Davidson felt despair, as opposed to the anxiety, or fear, or anger that had been plaguing him so far. He knew he was finished, just as everyone else was, around here, whether they worked for Umbrella or not. Shutting the mobile phone off without realizing it, he put the communications device back within his uniform and absentmindedly left the small closet space he had been holed up in.

He considered the possibility of just taking his own life, not wishing to spend another few hours, or even days, in the hell that Raccoon City had turned into, before being killed by one of the roaming cadavers. Or worse yet, becoming one of the undead after infection by one of them.

The cop was still considering all his bad options, when he was met with a platoon of men armed with AK-47 machine guns, the military-clad soldiers racing towards his position in the corridor via the elevators that led to and from the rooftop. He also heard the sound of helicopters over the RPD headquarters from outside, presumably indicating that these men had been delivered down on the roof.

"The perimeter needs to be on _this_ floor!", a Hispanic young man ordered his followers as the mercenaries gave short greetings to the RPD staff, "We don't have long. They're coming! And there's more of them than we thought! Organize yourself, kids, NOW!".

"Wha...?", Davidson grabbed that particular soldier by the arm, stopping his rush down the corridor, "What's going on? Who _are_ you?".

"Sergeant Olivera, sir", the visitor announced himself with a nod, though making it clear he didn't have long to talk, "You may call me Carlos if it'll make it more fun for you. Now, feel like helping us?".

Davidson stopped to survey these men, guessing it's who Umbrella meant by the assistance that was on its way.

Two dozen armed men, adding to the army of RPD officers who were already here.

Surely, that would've extended the amount of time this building would survive against the onslaught of literally thousands of zombies by a few hours.

Or was that a few minutes?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Officer Ryman was busy jogging through the footbridge that allowed him to come closer to RPD headquarters, the young man still not being able to believe everything that had occurred so far tonight. So he had to keep himself busy, helping out whoever he could, whenever the chance allowed it.

In the last few hours, the cop had found more than ten lost individuals, who were even more distraught than him, and who had been separated from their relatives after the families had tried to seek refuge within the Police building. He was glad to be able to help those displaced people find their loved ones, having received the description of their relatives' appearance and simply making his way through the RPD and asking all those who matched that mental image if they were the people he was looking for. Clearly, it helped the civilians in the building to be huddled up with their families as they desperately waited to hear that the crisis outside was getting better. Or that they were getting rescued, or for any update whatsoever.

Plus, Ryman knew, that the temporary task of assisting others was keeping him distracted, and probably preventing him from losing his mind to the insanity that was taking place all around him just now. And if this was going to be his last day on Earth, he may as well do what he was supposed to as an officer of the law.

And have a little fun with it too.

The mostly-nonchalant cop had left the confines, and relatively safety, of the RPD a few minutes ago, needing to get some air, and also needing to put some distance between himself and the wailing of the hundreds of terrified people who were there. In comparison, the cool air outside, along with the muffled moans he heard from the distance, was a relief, though he knew he wouldn't be able to venture out very far.

He wasn't sure exactly how he had ended up here, in all honesty, but he was on the footbridge nonetheless. So Ryman stopped jogging, and turned to the open area that was on either side of and below the overpass he was on.

Of course, what he saw didn't make any sense, not when it involved that red haired cop he had met being down on the ground below. He watched her running, and could tell that she wasn't bolting as fast as her legs could carry, and the rookie cop seemed to be intentionally waiting for the hundreds of zombies to follow her down the road.

And follow her they did, the undead monsters staggering behind Shakahnna Warren as she stopped sporadically to wait for them to catch up, and then began jogging away again.

Just what was that girl up to?

And did it matter?

"Oh... God!", he heard himself uttering as he noticed just how infested the street below the bridge was, with what may have been up to a thousand zombies packed into the road. The numbers were staggering, to see so many of them, even he felt his face contort briefly before his intense curiosity got the better of him.

Footsteps were heard behind him, ones that were much too fast to belong to zombies. Ryman turned around in that direction anyway, just to be safe, because it would have to be his luck that the first zombie who gained the ability to run would appear next to him. And if he was going to die tonight, it wasn't going to be because he heard creatures approaching him but kept standing there like a statue.

He already had his hand on his holstered Beretta, and eased away from the weapon without reaching for it when he saw that it was a human male running through the footbridge.

Why did this new guy look familiar?

"Mr Kendo?", Ryman exclaimed, having remembered who the second man there was, "Robert Kendo! It's me, Kevin".

Kendo stopped, looking very hurried as he eyed the end of the passageway that he had been heading towards, carrying several pieces of metal on his arms that the cop didn't recognize.

"Kevin! Of course! Hello", the older man gave a tired smile, "Look, sorry. I can't stop and talk. I need to get these over to my shop _now_!".

"What's going on there?", the officer inquired back, wondering if there was a new temporary distraction for him.

"Uh, why don't you come along and see, son?", Kendo winked back, "I'm pretty sure you'll like what you find".

"Got yourself a deal", Ryman smiled back.

Both men turned and began running towards the area that the gun shop owner was going to originally.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Shakahnna Warren had decided several minutes ago that this running business was pish, the rookie preferring open combat where she could aim for her opponent's groin with her shoes, her fists... or her handgun. Unfortunately, she wasn't being given the choice, as she continued bolting down the street, with the first of a countless number of zombies wobbling towards her from just a few yards behind.

_Stick to the plan and keep running_, the voice in her head kept repeating. She just hoped the plan would succeed, as she finally rounded the corner to enter Main Street, and stopped cold for a few moments when she visually inspected the area around her.

On top of every two or three-floored building was a combination of people she recognized, from fellow cops to civilians, and even some individuals who had been let out of the RPD holding cells when the outbreak occurred. Officers, regular citizens and criminals alike were poised at the ready, looking down over the quiet road, and became more tense as the flood of zombies followed the young woman.

The trap was sprung.

Shakahnna rushed to get out of the road as hundreds of monsters filled Main Street, the young woman's pounding feet thundering through the entryway to Kendo's shop, and quickly locking the wooden door behind herself. She then bolted towards the staircase that would lead to the attic in that gun shop. Then onward to the roof where the others were located.

It took her about a minute to reach the meeting spot, and she was allowed to catch her breath at last when she came upon officers Chisholm and Donnelly, along with a few of their RPD colleagues. Gasping and spluttering despite herself, she shooed away concerned questions from the others.

One particular cop, whom she remembered as being called Kevin Ryman, was grinning as he was in a ready position behind the Herstal 50-calibre machine gun, with Robert Kendo himself prepared to feed ammunition into the weapon from a wooden crate that rested next to Ryman's feet.

Apparently, Mr Kendo was successful in his efforts to re-commission the machine gun that had been used as a display item ever since he had bought it de-commissioned from the US Army. Ordinarily, she was sure that it was not possible, but Kendo had been working with just about every sort of gun for the past thirty years, and his brother was the same.

Shakahnna herself withdrew her Beretta pistol, and took aim at the increasing number of zombies who were spread throughout Main Street below. Standing next to Chisholm and Donnelly, who were armed likewise, she took a quick visual scan of the rooftops around her, and the last stand that these brave people were putting up against the onslaught of the beasts.

And for a moment, the back of her mind wondered why Albert Wesker wasn't among them.

That moment was all she had the time for, because she next heard Eric Donnelly's voice as he screamed to be heard by every human there.

"MOW THOSE FUCKERS DOWN!", the older cop yelled out, "MOW THEM DOOOOWN!"

The machine gun that was operated by Ryman and Kendo, their Beretta's and the revolvers and rifles used by everyone else, opened fired all at once. The accompanying sound was nearly deafening, almost sounding as if the sky above was being ripped open, as bursts of gunfire erupted from every occupied rooftop.

Down below, the hordes of trapped zombies were caught defenceless, and they were cut down mercilessly, moaning to themselves as they buckled under the gunfire. The human attackers above saw the monsters' heads exploding, their arms and legs being ripped off the rest of their bodies. And in the case of the targets aimed by Ryman's weapon, the creatures literally exploding without a trace as they were struck by the 50-calibre bullets.

The scent of lead next attacked the rookie cop's nose as the ruthless sound didn't slow, the initial half of the zombie wave below having already been decimated. So the human trappers concentrated their fire on the rear half, and aimed the gunfire further away. This second front of monsters proved to be harder to strike in a critical area, and it took more time to decimate their ranks. The exception was Ryman, who started cheering out loud as he kept squeezing the trigger to his dominant weapon, feeling wonderfully in control for the first time that evening.

Finally, it was finished, with the grisly layout of between eight hundred and a thousand zombies annihilated on Main Street, and the gunfire from the rooftops soon ceased. The militia began checking their personal stock of ammunition as Ryman stood up straight from behind the control of his Herstal machine gun and raised his arms towards the sky, screaming an excited warcry that caused Kendo to look at the other cops there with an expression of amused curiosity.

"I'm glad we're done", the owner of the gunshop mentioned first as he spotted Shakahnna and Chisholm embracing each other, "Because Kevin was out of bullets".

"WE NEED TO KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR SURVIVORS", Donnelly yelled out at his fellow attackers as vans from the RPD drove to a stop at the end of Main Street, behind the carnage, "BE READY TO FINISH THEM OFF IF YOU SEE ANY MOVEMENT, BOYS AND GIRLS. _DON'T_ ASSUME THEY'RE ALL DEAD AND LET THEM STROLL TOWARDS OUR EVAC".

Receiving nods and other agreements of his advice, the dozens of humans began making their way back downstairs and off the rooftops, even as lone zombies could be seen in the distance.

Heading back towards the attic, one of the fellow officers noticed the American flag that was still waving in the wind due to being at the top of the pole on the roof, so he pointed towards it.

"Shall I get the flag?", the cop asked as Kendo was ushered through the doorway first.

"What're you, nuts?", Donnelly slapped the younger officer on the back of the head, "Time's a-wasting. Get your ass downstairs!".

Surely, this was the one time when formalities could be ignored.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Having her back turned to this particular house, with nothing to do at the moment, though she had rushed to be here, the rookie cop felt as if her ears were about to bleed. What Shakahnna Warren had seen was bad enough, and what she knew was to come was worse, and just to aggravate her even further, a sound that she could only describe as 'fucking hell' assaulted her ears. The redhead wiped the new tears away from her eyes with her left sleeve while gripping the handle of the firearm. Having already used three bullets from that handgun to finish off the three zombies she had seen in the house. Once outside, she knew her boyfriend had been only a minute behind her, the taller man jogging towards her position in his own turn. That was why she had to stop him, and placed her left palm on his chest, shaking her head to nonverbally tell him to not go further, and stay out of his parents' home.

"Shak!", Chisholm panted as he tried to get past her, and she pushed him away still, not wanting to say anything, "Where's mom and dad?".

Planting her feet firmly on the ground so that he would not be able to pass, he was not physically as strong as her, and she had to make sure that he didn't use his distress to move her.

It was enough for Donnelly to grab his younger friend by placing both arms around the less experienced cop from behind, the older man encouraging his partner away once he understood what the redhead was doing. His uptake was much quicker and his face took on the same harrowed look as the young woman.

"We have to evacuate mom and dad!", Chisholm protested, being dragged away by the male from behind, and by the female from the front, "Shak! Where the hell _are_ they?".

"They're gone, sweetheart", she whispered as she and Donnelly dragged him further from his parents' home, "Them and your brother".

"No, no, no, noooo!", her boyfriend looked at the front door that he was being pulled away from, and then at her, "Did you check a pulse? I mean, did you...".

"They're gone", Shakahnna insisted, not wanting him to go inside to find proof of their zombified remains and their heads missing chunks of their brains with his own eyes, "I'm sorry I just don't... I can't bury them just now, Chino. When this is over, we can do that but just can't now".

Pressing her eyes closed, she couldn't stand the thought of touching the bodies, the face of her lover almost too much to bear, racked with grief. Bile threatening to rise in her mouth, she didn't know what to do or say not when he had just lost so much.

"Come on, bro", Donnelly added while turning his best friend around and making sure the younger man was facing the same direction as himself, with both their backs to his parents' house, and looking towards the two RPD cars they had run past to get here.

All three walked further away from the home where the zombies had been killed by the redhead, Shakahnna's ears still picking up a bleating noise from the darkness, even as she took a hold of her boyfriend's arm from the other side that Donnelly did. Turning her own attention to the right, and seeing nothing, she was initially tempted to leave the mystery alone, considering they had more urgent matters to attend to.

Moreover, she definitely shouldn't leave her boyfriend alone just now anyway. But that wailing noise just wasn't stopping, causing her to be distracted even as they proceeded towards the sidewalk, leaving the line of darkened homes behind them.

"One sec, darling", she finally reached up and kissed Chisholm on the cheek, before letting go of his arm and running towards the direction of the noise.

"Shak, leave it!", Donnelly insisted from after her, while the rookie disappeared down the road, the darkness enveloped her quickly, the teenager not visible as no lights were available nearby, electricity having gone out in some areas of this grid.

She didn't see Chisholm sitting down on the sidewalk, while the rookie felt exhausted and stared back at the house where his parents and brother used to live, and where they all died tonight. He wasn't being as careful of his environments as he should be, which is why his partner remained on his feet, Donnelly visually inspecting their surroundings while the older man's Beretta was pointed downward with both palms around the handle.

The redhead raised her left hand, igniting fire from the air onto her fingertips, and pointed the burning illumination forward, her right hand still gripping the RPD-issue weapon, and stopped when she saw what was causing the noise. Just ahead of her position, the rookie spotted a pram that was resting on the sidewalk. With no movement spotted around the pushchair, the cop kept her handgun unholstered as she came closer still, the scream from within the buggy still reverberating all around her. She had a horrible feeling she knew exactly where this was going.

Yet still, Shakahnna gasped when she spotted a baby zombie which was strapped to the inside of the pram. The creature reacting angrily to its lack of movement. Looking around the stroller indicated no sign of its parents, of course, as the infant screeched at her, noticing something that stirred in its line of vision for the first time. It reached for her face, still restrained in its place, and roared, enraged, as its meal was beyond its reach.

There was no point in wasting time thinking about this particular life, yet another one in the countless number of people who had been infected and killed by the virus. So the rookie pointed the barrel of the handgun at its head, and pulled the trigger once. The miniature zombie exploded from the single bullet, leaving Shakahnna to return to the two male cops who were less than a hundred yards away, the memory of this latest creature now stuck in her mind. And while she did not want it to, it stood out.

It didn't take her long to jog back to Chisholm and Donnelly, the younger man standing up when he saw her approaching, while the more experienced cop had been busy examining the two RPD vehicles that were nearby.

"Sorry about that", she embraced her boyfriend, who hugged her back, "Something I had to see. You OK?".

"Saying 'no' won't matter, will it?", Chisholm uttered as they physically separated, "I'll have plenty of time to go on about this once we make this city safe again".

"Good luck to _all_ of us, then", Donnelly mentioned while returning to the couple, "Four dead cops in those two cars back then. Probably killed by these freaks at the start of the outbreak. Nothing we can do for them now. May as well go back and meet up with Marvin and Kevin and the rest of the gang".

"Yeah, some last line of defence _we're_ turning out to be", Chino snorted as the three officers proceeded further away from his parents house, having told the rest of the RPD team that they wished to make a quick visit.

"The night's not over yet", the oldest person there pointed out, as much to himself as to the other two RPD members.

"No, not yet", Chisholm followed through, feeling more tired and hopeless.

Not a surprise, considering his own family was a casualty, and whatever effort and resources he had at his disposal to save anyone wasn't going to be enough to safeguard his loved ones.

It'd be difficult, if not impossible, for anyone to be optimistic after that.


	67. Chapter 57 Win Loss

"I'm telling you, dude, you should've gone through the blaze", officer Donnelly haughtily addressed Marvin Branagh with a sigh, several people he knew being heard in the background.

Though with the volume at which the younger man was making his point, they would have been hard pressed to ignore him, as the tight confines made it that much more difficult to be passive in this situation.

At least for the moment, the young man didn't pay any attention to Chisholm, Ryman and Warren as the three RPD agents were busy trying to calm down the hysterical occupants of the apartment building they had found refuge in. Or rather the building that they were stuck in, as Donnelly couldn't decide either way for sure. It was not as dilapidated as they had expected, but was hardly comfortable. And with it trapping everyone inside, the three officers were finding it difficult to suppress both the dissent in their own ranks and the terror of people who had just come up against the army of the undead.

What he did know for a certainty is that the last convoy of people who were in the full van driven by Branagh was separated by the rest of the vehicles ahead. They had all been together after the survivors were leaving Main Street massacre of the zombie hordes. It seemed as though they would be home free, but the disturbance had changed that.

Unfortunately, Donnelly and Ryman were intently watching the van in front of theirs, the one driven by Sean Meega. It just after that transport passed a car on fire on the edge of the street, the smaller vehicle exploded in a fireball. Meega's van continued ahead, following the convoy, though it was easy to guess that its occupants were shaken from the experience. However, the destroyed car was now putting forth an inferno that partially blocked the route ahead.

Donnelly had suggested that Branagh continue past the fire, as the last thing he wanted was for his group to lose contact with the others. The driver, on the other hand, had insisted that driving ahead was too dangerous, and the fire could easily engulf their van. The van couldn't drive on the sidewalk, either, as that area had been blocked by debris and furniture, supposedly by people previously trying to create a blockade against the zombies' approach. So he had stopped driving, and used his radio to contact Rita's vehicle and mention that he would have to take a detour and he'd meet them at another point in the city. Of course, Donnelly had a problem with that idea, to the point where he and Branagh began yelling at each other, much to the dismay of the cops and civilians who were crammed in the vehicle, before the older man used his rank to have his way.

Unfortunately, what was supposed to be a simple reroute before they could join up with the convoy became more and more complicated, due primarily to a majority of the roads being inaccessible by car now. And to make matters worse, Branagh's radio battery had died, leaving him without contact with the rest of the massive group that had left Main Street. So something as simple as a radio that needed new batteries proved to be crucial in separating this transport from the rest. Batteries could have been found in the RPD basement storage facility under normal circumstances, in room 3B, if Shakahnna remembered correctly.

Too bad the RPD headquarters was so far from here.

So the van had stopped at this particular apartment building due to being unable to drive further, and the passengers had to disembark, much to Donnelly's dismay, along with his annoyed references to how this is how the Donner party had started.

Having found more survivors in this building, where the electricity wasn't working and people found their way by either candles or via flashlights, the annoyed cop was now rubbing his forehead in frustration. While the other officers were having a difficult time calming down some of the residents, he heard Chisholm and Ryman repeat that help was on its way, that they weren't going to die here like the residents thought. Donnelly wasn't sure if his colleagues believed that statement any more themselves, not when RPD staff were barely surviving themselves, much less being able to rescue anyone else, and there was still no sign of military help from the federal government at all.

What's worse, his fellow officers were beginning to fight amongst themselves, though the strife had been limited to verbal arguments and the sporadic shove. Still, though, Donnelly wondered how long it'd be before one of these armed cops received the wrong insult from a colleague and responded with the use of a Police-issue handgun. He'd guess another twelve hours in such an environment would be enough. Such circumstances turned even the best men inside out, and he could understand why.

And what's even more surprising, officers Warren and Chisholm were arguing among themselves now, the red-headed rookie raising her voice against her boyfriend, and his partner responding in kind against her. Not that he had never heard them argue before of course, they did frequently, but at a time like this? To hear such angry tones was jarring and further irritating his already frayed nerves.

"For FUCK SAKE, CHINO! He could bloody well HELP us!", the rookie was yelling at him, "His speed can help us scour this city for survivors, and in getting us out too!".

"You're going to go back to that… that BASTARD?", her boyfriend countered, "After everything he's done to you, after everything he done to all those other people, even though he probably has something to do with _this_? Don't you recall what happened last time?".

"Yeah, Chino, I forgot the virus and the tests and the fucking torture!", she sarcastically barked back, and then seemed to calm down, fortunately, "Please understand. I mean, we're outnumbered, and he can help me keep you safe".

More people crying in the background, followed by others who repeated the currently often-heard phrases that it was all over, that the end was near, and that they were all going to die. That was enough to cause Shakahnna to moan in exhaustion herself before she kissed Chisholm on the forehead and marched towards the apartment inhabitants who were panicking elsewhere in this lobby.

"Hey, YOU", the rookie cop called out in a threatening manner to distract them, and repeated that phrase a few times before she received their attention, "You know what happened to me the first time I came across a zombie?".

"It can't be any worse than how we did!", one of the men responded.

"Fucking doubt it", Shakahnna told him, "I died. First time I ran into these monsters, they literally killed me. Just by being alive, everyone of you is doing a shitload better than I did".

For what it's worth, that seemed to have calmed the many arguments in the large lobby down, even if it confused them greatly.

"Now listen up!", Shakahnna marched back and forth in the limited floorspace that wasn't covered with either people, pets in containers, or valuable food and weapons, "Fucking bullshit monsters! We're smarter than them! They aren't even gonna get out of the way of a gun or a car or anything we throw at them. What's gonna real fuck us up the arse here is acting like cunts. Usually, the thing which stops real survivors from making it to the end of their ordeal isn't the thing that threatens them, but each other. So co-operate, don't be a shit, and you'll make it. Am I making myself fucking clear here?".

The silence could've been taken as a sign that no one was listening to her, but from the gazes she received, it could've also meant that no one was protesting either. Better that she assumed the latter.

"Rule count down. Rule number one, you can't play dead, because they can smell you", the woman continued, glad to have everyone's attention, even if it was temporarily, "And even those that can't _will_ happily feed on corpses. NEVER fucking use this tactic. Run, hide, almost anything else but they are hardly picky. There was some little prick doing that and had to put a bullet in his head later cause something had taken a bite from one of his thighs".

"Hold on!", a male voice interjected her speech, officer Branagh marching past some of the crowd to proceed towards her, an incredulous expression on his face as he confronted the rookie, "You knew about this and you didn't tell anyone? Why did you keep quiet?".

"UM, did you miss the whole lets not attack each other speech? And are you fucking nuts?", the female cop countered, "Who would I have told? Or do you mean why didn't I tell you specifically, Marvin? So you could hound me out like you did STARS? Remember them? You know those group of probably the best and highest trained soldiers in the country? Member them? Well, they WARNED everyone and who listened? NO ONE. So people will ignore them and listen to the mayor's bratty daughter? Come on. And look at where they are now. Look at where we are now".

She sighed, hardly proud of her choice, but aware it was the sensible option to take.

"Just so you know, darlin'", it was Kendo who politely interrupted her rant, "STARS aren't soldiers. They're Police officers".

"Yes, thank you for that", Shakahnna wiped the sweat off her forehead, as it seemed to accumulate there regularly since this nightmare started.

"I had no intention of leaving any of the STARS high and dry, alright?", she continued addressing Branagh in a softer tone now, "I was told they're somewhere safe, but I just don't know. And for Jill, fuck knows where she is wandering about now. Wouldn't be surprised if we ended up shooting her later. I just had to try and work from the inside, and... And do you have _any_ idea of how many Umbrella has working in the RPD? My own FUCKING FATHER is on their payroll, guys! I can't find one person in power who isn't on the take. And I'm supposed to rush in gung ho? If you want something from someone, you have to speak to them in their own language. At least that was the lesson that I learned ages back. Even more so if you want something from a corrupt system, then can't tell it that you aren't doing what it wants".

And the redhead spoke all this feeling rather like a bit of a tit, but it was the best justification that she could offer.

She stopped to breathe in and out heavily.

"Fucking cunt, why is it so hot in here?", she thought out loud as she left the verbal confrontation she was having with Branagh and proceeded towards Chisholm, gently gripping her boyfriend on both sides of his head, "I need to go find him, Chino, honey. But don't tell them where, alright? I'll find him and be back _with_ him and it'll be better, I swear".

"Then I'll come along", the slightly older man protested, "I'm not separating in the middle of this hellhole, Shak! Get that out of your head now".

"If I die, then I come back, no sweat", the teenager mentioned, "You don't have that luxury, sweetheart. That's why I need you to stick with everyone else and be safe while I go by myself. We'll meet again, I promise, and soon too. I won't stay dead and he's indestructible, so it won't take us long to clean up this place".

"This is _not_ a good idea!", Chisholm continued, "It's not worth the chance of finding him and hoping he's still sane".

She didn't say anything, which was an indication that she had already made up her mind and wasn't going to change it, as she kissed him on the forehead.

"Look, li'l lady", it was Robert Kendo who approached the pair, "If you're leaving, then so am I".

"What? Everybody here wants to die all of a sudden?", Chisholm snapped at him next.

"Son, I understand how this looks, but I have a basement safe that stupid me forgot all about while we were there", the older man told them both, "I have crates of guns and ammo, and non-perishable food, and medical supplies. But only _I_ know where the safe is and the complicated way to get past its locking mechanism. I get there, I double our weapons and supplies".

"Nice plan on paper, Mr Kendo", agent Branagh gave his opinion from elsewhere in the lobby, "How will you be able to bring all that to us once you get past your safe? I'm guessing all those items will weigh a ton. Unless you got superpowers to lift things that I don't know about?".

"Always the droll, Mr Branagh", the gunshop owner winked at the cop, "I mean, once I get there, I'll hole myself up in my store, and wait for the RPD to come get me and use the extra guns and supplies. Hell, while I'm there, maybe even find some more survivors who could use weapons to stay alive. I'm sure we didn't pick up everyone in that convoy we were in earlier".

"You're a brave man, then", Ryman added to the conversation, "Want me to come with you, Mr Kendo?".

"No, no, son, thank you", the older man laughed as he walked up to the RPD agent who had complimented him and patted the officer on the shoulder, "You're needed here. The point is to save lives, right? We'll meet again, all of us, and we'll have more resources to back us up in this terrible time, and we'll survive as a result, because we stuck together, as that li'l lady said".

He turned to where Shakahnna Warren had been standing side-by-side with her boyfriend a moment ago. But rather than seeing the redhead there, both he and Chisholm together noticed that the rookie cop had already left quietly, most likely to avoid further protests from the people there.

Just like that, she was gone.

"More heart than brains, that girl", Kendo sighed, "But methinks she has the right idea".

He took a hold of a 12-gauge shotgun that had been resting nearby, and made sure he had several rounds for the weapon on his person.

"I better see every one of you boys and girls soon, you hear, now?", he made his best effort to smile as he loaded the weapon while proceeding towards the lobby exit.

The gunshop owner carefully pushed the door open, hearing the light moans emanating from outside, and took one look back into the lobby of the apartment building and the people there. He winked at everyone one more time before exiting this place and disappearing into the night.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It was approximately a day and a half later that Shakahnna Warren succeeded in hiking back to the apartment building where she hoped her boyfriend and the rest of the convoy still were. It had taken her that long to travel on foot to Albert Wesker's cabin in the forest outside the city and see that the older man wasn't there. She had spent a short amount of time resting after she assessed this situation, thoroughly pissed that she hadn't managed to make contact with the former RPD captain, though confident that he was still alive. Not only due to his unnaturally superior abilities, but also because a survey of the cabin revealed that all his weapons and ammunition was gone.

Wesker was probably busy combing Raccoon City in his own right, proving to be a tour de force for the good guys. Too bad she had no way of touching base with him, considering they could've used someone with his strength to safeguard people's wellbeing.

So the redhead had trekked back to the city, finally reaching the apartment building where Chisholm and the rest of the cops and civilians should've been holed up. She had come across dozens of zombies and the occasional virus-infected animal, finishing the creatures with her RPD-issue firearm, with rocks off the road, or with a tyre iron she borrowed from a deserted garage. At the same time, she had died a total number of three occasions, returning to life eventually, only to continue her journey back here. The resurrecting seemed to be having more lingering effects on her body, every area aching as she moved.

Unfortunately, there was no rest available once she pushed her way through the door to the ground-floor lobby, the rookie cop first hearing, and then seeing, that the people there were under attack. Screams were everywhere, angry hells mixed with frightened cries as the undead seemed to be swarming around this area as their epicentre, eager to eat anything that was alive in that environment. Her heart leapt with fright at the idea that her guys might have been in danger which she could have prevented.

One part of her vision spotted unfortunate people who were already dead. Another saw officers Branagh and Donnelly using their nightsticks to literally cave in the heads of the monsters, as their Berettas were seemingly already empty. And in yet another area, Shakahnna spotted Chisholm, who was lying on the floor of the lobby, his useless handgun resting several feet away from him, as the young man desperately kept a kneeling zombie that loomed over him at bay by clutching its shoulders with both his hands. Another creature was staggering towards her boyfriend from nearby, which would've easily meant his end, especially since there were scores of humans and monsters between her and him, preventing Shakahnna from reaching the young man.

She could hear herself uselessly screaming out his name, as she stretched her right arm horizontally in front of her face, her wide-spread fingers aimed at Chisholm's position.

"Προστατεύστε", the rookie cop blurted out without even knowing what those words meant.

She also didn't know why she wasn't surprised that her words caused a reaction, a blue transparent light emerging and shooting towards Chisholm. The illumination struck the zombie that was threatening to eat the young cop, and pushed the creature off him. It also enveloped Chisholm in a clear, bluish bubble that sparkled when the two nearest monsters tried to touch it, effectively protecting the RPD agent from the beasts around him.

Chisholm didn't understand where the protection came from, the cop's eyes and mouth widening as he lifted his upper body off the floor by pushing his palms against the carpet beneath him. His gaze next turned to the origin of the unexpected help, and he saw his girlfriend collapsing on the lobby floor, the redhead passing out from the exhaustion she had apparently undergone.

A distant part of Chisholm's mind noted that former captain Albert Wesker was not with her, so either she wasn't able to find him, or he refused to return to the centre of the city alongside the young woman. But he didn't have time to think about that fact for long, as he intentionally climbed back to a standing position, easily breaking through the bluish bubble that had previously surrounded him. It seemed that the spell which was sent his way by his girlfriend worked one way, after all, preventing outsiders from coming towards him, but allowing him to reach out of it if he wished.

All the more things to wonder about, and investigate, and ask Shakahnna about, once this eruption of violence had been quelled. Speaking of which, the young man reached for the nearest firearm that was resting on the floor, hoping the weapon wasn't empty.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"You alright?", Chisholm heard himself asking yet again as the group of just over twenty was proceeding on foot towards RPD headquarters.

His concern was obvious, as his girlfriend could have passed for one of the undead if her eyes were closed. Parts of her uniform was torn, where something had eaten away at her flesh before it had healed.

"No danger", Shakahnna panted and forced a smile on her face as she passed the second Beretta handgun to one of the civilians in the crowd.

Neither officer paid attention as Donnelly opened fire from the end of the cluster of people, the older cop downing a zombie who was across the street.

The redhead took the time to hug her boyfriend for a few seconds, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. Chisholm gladly embracing her back as the group went ahead of them, with Donnelly patting his partner on the back and making a sarcastic comment about how the motel rooms won't require them to pay money if they wish to rent one. Thrusting her upraised right middle finger at the more experienced officer, the teenager then proceeded to jog after the group with Chisholm.

"You're telling me this thing won't _ever_ miss?", the middle-aged man who had received the second Beretta from Shakahnna asked from a few feet away.

"It shouldn't, no", the redhead told him as she wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her sleeve, though it did little good.

Every part of her body was soaking wet, the exertion forcing her eyes closed.

"No questions, it's magic is always the answer", she added.

"No worries there", the recipient of the weapon went on, "Just hard to believe, is all".

Wanting to test her statement out for himself, especially before he would probably end up having to use the handgun during a dangerous confrontation, the balding man pointed at a zombie that he saw through the closed third-floor window of an apartment building. Doing his best to stop his right hand from shaking, he raised that arm up and held it at an upward angle over his own shoulder, and squeezed the trigger once. A bullet fired out of the Beretta and burst through the window, shattering the glass, and then lodged itself in the space between the zombie's eyes, the creature collapsing dead where it stood in the apartment. Shakahnna herself felt her body draining of its resources, as the down side of creating such artefacts, but there was no choice. Twenty-four hours sleeping and she'd be fine, but if anyone died who didn't have to, that would make her feel shitty forever.

"Jesus...!", the older man gasped, barely able to believe what he had seen, "I've NEVER fired one of these things before, and...".

"You and Richie there will be depended on if we come across them again, then", Branagh commented as the group could finally see the RPD building ahead, "Make sure you stay sharp, alright?".

"_If_ we come across them, he says", officer Ryman sniggered and slapped the first civilian who had received an enchanted 44-calibre magnum and two dozen rounds for the firearm on the upper back, "I appreciate your optimism there, Marvin. I just wished I felt it".

"What are the odds you'll be able to do your magic act on all our pieces?", Donnelly asked as he jogged ahead and visually scanned the seemingly abandoned and barricaded road ahead of him, keeping it safe for the group who was about to cross it behind him to enter the RPD lobby.

"Not now", Shakahnna thought out loud, her inability to stand backing her claim, "Feels like I'm running a marathon every time I make one".

Her desire wasn't in question but she was quite sure no one would want to carry her when they were moving and she was going to be completely useless to them if she was unconscious.

With Donnelly standing guard outside, Ryman went into the Police department's first floor initially, his handgun at the ready, and breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw dozens of familiar faces in the reception area. He quickly held the door open and ushered the survivors behind him to go ahead, which they were glad to do, before Donnelly himself jogged into the relative safety of the RPD's lobby in turn, and Ryman was last and closed the door after himself.

This place was definitely quieter than the last time they had been here, the hysterical screams being replaced with hushed conversations or silent sobs by people who were huddled against walls and in corners. While having a mix of uniformed and normal-dressed officers and civilians all over this building, it was clear that no one was really in charge of this stronghold. Instead, the group was having to work together during emergencies, and its members wishing to be left alone or crowding with those they were familiar with during the calm interludes.

"So what's next?", Chisholm thought out loud to no one in particular as Shakahnna slumped down on the floor in a seated position, still not having caught her breath from the last enchanted weapon she handed out.

"Dunno", his older partner sighed as he checked his own weapon while the rookie squatted

next to his girlfriend, "Sit tight and wait for a rescue, I guess".

The redhead looked up at him through bleary eyes, and then at her boyfriend, whose face was at the same level as hers. He looked at her tenderly and she ran her hands down the side of his face, taking a moment to show how glad she was to be back with him. Looking around, it was obvious that other people felt the same, clinging tightly to the people that they loved as the only comfort in this place.

She had other ideas, though. And while she was carrying those out, she may even end up being lucky enough to run into Wesker.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Gary?", Winston Davidson desperately cried out into the receiver of his house phone, feeling worse when he heard no dial tone within the communications device.

The 66-year old man's life seemed to turn sour yesterday when his wife, who was two years his senior, became visibly ill, coughing uncontrollably just before the couple were due to have dinner. Emma Davidson insisted that she didn't wish to go to the hospital, Winston's wife of 39 years appearing to get more stressed at the thought of being away from home in some strange hospital than at the pain she was obviously in, especially whenever she was overcome by a coughing fit. Of course, Winston had tried to change her mind, and when that failed, he had tried to argue with her, the entire time being hampered by his spouse's descent into more agony when he pushed the topic with too much energy.

Then again, Emma wasn't senseless, and she objectively knew that her husband was only worried about her welfare, despite her anxiety in being away from home. So she had reached a compromise with the man that she had spent three-quarters of her life with, agreeing to visit a hospital the next day if a good night's sleep hadn't improved her condition.

That was yesterday evening, and Emma had slept in this morning, all the way past lunch, though Winston could see her sporadically moving in her sleep. He had also watched the woman in the pyjamas warily several times during and after the breakfast and lunch he had by himself, attentively making sure she was still breathing while she laid on her back and her side. Then, however, his wife had finally woken up in the middle of the afternoon, and appeared at least as bad as she had yesterday, and sounded even worse, almost unable to talk, and seemingly unable to cease vomiting.

Quick to remind her of the deal, her husband had reached for the phone and dialled for an ambulance, planning to quickly pack some of her clothes before her ride to the hospital arrived. Except that there was no reply on the other end of the phone, no one picking up at the emergency services to ask him the reason for his call.

As expected, that had caused him to become more aggravated, Winston having never before seen a flu that affected anyone like this particular illness was infecting his wife. So he had hung up, swearing several times along the way, and tried to make his wife some chicken soup, which she wasn't able to eat anyway, before he packed some of her belongings, and then tried calling for an ambulance for a second time. And again he got no reply.

Another bout of swearing and frustration was about to start, when the television that he had turned on earlier to take Emma's mind off the current predicament got his attention, even while his wife was nearing a state of unconsciousness on the couch now. Winston heard something about an emergency all over the city, and then saw a male news anchorman raising his voice. The man on the television had forgotten about the etiquette in front of the camera, instead calling out Emily Corrie-Smith's name, since something apparently happened to the young news anchorwoman.

But what in the world did that have to do with what was happening to his wife?

An explosion was heard outside the house, which prompted him to run to the window of his ground-floor apartment, and he saw that a car outside had apparently slammed into a tree before bursting into flames. People were screaming all around it, with others appearing to be dazed from the accidents, as pedestrians weren't able to walk steadily. The horrible realization that a driver or passengers may be stuck in the burning vehicle occurred to Winston, causing him to gasp and cover his mouth in shock, even while he knew that nothing he could do would save those unfortunately individuals. So he quickly turned around to rush back towards the living room phone, except now having two emergencies to report.

He froze when he saw that Emma was standing up and facing him.

The older woman had stood up from the couch while his attention was out the window, and she had apparently walked into their bedroom, and then turned to look at him through the open bedroom doorway.

He locked eyes with her from several yards away, and for the first time since he had met his wife, he noticed that she didn't recognize him. What's worse, the woman's skin was peeling, and drool was dripping out of her mouth, which was foaming, leaving a trail of acidic bile down the front of her nightdress. Her irises were completely gone, leaving a milky white glaze where her eyes used to be. He called to her, using her name, and she responded by growling and staggering towards him in the way that an injured, starving predator would proceed towards an animal it saw as a meal.

So Winston had gone from feeling worry about his wife's health to experiencing primal fear, frantically running away from one of the few people in this world that he loved. He shut the bedroom door behind him and, using every bit of strength he had, pushed the living room cabinet in front of the closed entryway. His wife kept moaning and clawing at the wooden doorframe on the other side, constantly trying to reach him. She continued doing this after he tried to talk to her again, even after he eventually screamed at her to stop, and after his voice became too tired to continue and he finally passed out from stress and exhaustion, collapsing on the carpeted floor.

It was completely black outside the living room window when Winston woke back up, not knowing for sure how long he had been unconscious. He groggily returned to a standing position, warily hearing nothing from the couple's bedroom, though he also heard nothing from outside their home. So he slowly approached the cabinet that was leaning against the bedroom door, and softly called his wife's name.

In agitated response to the one word he uttered, his wife angrily began clawing at the vertical wooden surface from the other side of the closed door again.

"Emma, it's me!", he desperately called out as a dog howled somewhere outside, "Say something!".

He didn't get the luxury of hearing her answer with words, his wife only replying in an animalistic growl and clawing at her barrier further. So Winston frantically reached for the house phone, and pressing the speed-dial button for his son, Gary.

Winston called out his son's name before he noticed that there was no dial tone, so he looked back at the door to the couple's bedroom, where his wife was still imprisoned, and then out the window, just as he heard a crash emanating from their bedroom. The nightmare of seeing the monster which used to be his wife coming through the now-broken doorway followed, the female zombie tripping over the cabinet, and crashing on her hands and knees on the living

room carpet, before it rose back on her feet and came closer to him.

With his wife still chasing him slowly, Winston staggered towards the door that led out of the home they'd shared since before Gary was born. He had almost reached the doorway that led out of this apartment, when that vertical wooden barrier was kicked in from outside.

Reacting instinctively, the elderly man screamed and covered his face with both arms as splinters of wood and a pair of screws flew out of the doorway and towards him. He temporarily forgot about the impossible, but very real, danger that was slowly approaching him from behind, the monster who wore his wife's face inching closer.

Winston quickly remembered his wife, though, and knew why he had been running from her in the first place. The fact that she locked eyes with him meant nothing, as his wife still didn't appear to recognise him. Only coming closer still, and causing him to continue to be afraid of her. So her husband breathed heavily, feeling as if his lungs were about to burst in his torso due to the exhaustion he struggled against. He turned away from his pursuer, intending to resume his rush to the door, returning to the only exit out of his home, and stopped again.

Waiting at the doorway was a redheaded woman who was dressed as an RPD cop, who was about the same height as Winston himself. Behind the young female intruder who had kicked his door in, was another officer, this one a male, also in his uniform, who was a few inches taller than her.

Should Winston ask them for help? Or just scream at them to get out of his way?

Neither one of the trespassers waited for him to make the first move, though, as the redhead swung her body towards the carpet and in a clockwise fashion. Squatting her right leg, she rested her right knee on the floor while her left leg was horizontal as it swept the area in front of her, where he was. Winston's legs collapsed out from under him as her left ankle crashed against his feet, and the older man gasped as he felt himself falling downward.

Except that the female cop stood back up with a speed that was faster than his eyes could follow, and was back on her feet. The next sight was Winston's own ceiling as he was lying on his back, but he wasn't in pain, like he thought he would've been if he fell down on the floor. He breathed in and out, his lungs and throat still hurting, and only then understood that the redhead had managed to catch him in her arms, preventing his body from slamming against the unforgiving carpet.

But where did that leave his wife, and the current predicament he was facing?

He saw the young woman nodding to her partner, and the male cop raised his hands at arm's length in front of his face, and Winston's eyes widened when he saw the second intruder pointing a handgun. The weapon was aimed past the area near the floor where he and the redhead lay, seemingly aimed at his pursuer.

Aimed at his wife?

Winston gasped, and coughed as more pain ravaged his body. Time slowed down while he tried to protest verbally again, and still only heard a wheeze coming out of his mouth.

The second cop pulled the trigger once, a burst of fire seemed to come out of his handgun, and Winston turned his head only to see his wife collapsing on her back with her forehead mostly gone.

"You...!", her husband finally managed to utter, for the complete lack of anything his words achieved, "What the hell did you DO?".

He accusingly stared at the male cop, then at the redhead, then back at the man who had murdered his sick wife again.

Neither one of the intruders replied, the young woman only looking away from his glare as she pulled him up to his feel and tried to lead him outside. That led to him pulling away from them both, and trying to return to where his wife remained.

"Emma?", Winston tried to squat next to her to see if she may still be alive, only to be pulled back out of his home by the redhead.

"Let go of me, goddammit!", he protested again, and was ignored again as each officer took a hold of one of his arms, "What the hell did you DO? Who ARE you two?".

No reply from the cops still as they dragged him further away from his home, not bothering to call an ambulance for his wife, towards a waiting RPD van that was parked outside the house.

"YOU TWO ASSHOLES KILLED MY WIFE AND WHY THE HELL WON'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?", Winston raised his voice as he was led, then pushed and pulled altogether, to the back of the van.

The male cop unlocked the back of the large vehicle, and the elderly man quieted down, now looking at the approximately twenty other people who were seated all over the floor of this van.

There was a selection of everyone, it seemed, both old and young, and single individuals who were placed next to family members who were huddled together for perceived safety. Some were wounded, with bloody bandages around some body parts, and others had been recently crying. But for a reason he didn't understand, none of them seemed to be held there against their will.

At another time and another place, Winston would've wondered, or asked, why this was all happening. As in, why were dozens of strangers seemingly content to sit in the back of an armoured police van? And why did they appear to be actually wishing to be here, huddled with strangers, as opposed to being at home?

Just what was happening in this city?

And what about Emma?

"Am... sorry about your wife", the young woman uttered without much emotion in her voice, as if she had given this speech already, "There's nothing you, nothing we can do for her, I swear. Please get in, sir".

Looking from her, to her male colleague, and hearing only distant barks, crashes and the occasional moan from nearby streets, Winston's mind refused to tell him what to do.

Not that he was pressured to make a decision, with a cop on each side. Since the young woman who had kicked his door in was talking to someone else inside the vehicle now. So Winston reacted by rubbing his palms against his face, then the top of his head, not paying attention to the fact that an older woman inside the back of the van was speaking to the two cops now.

"She's sleeping", the female passenger told both officers while an adolescent girl napped on the floor of the van, the back of her head on the middle-aged woman's lap, "I'll make sure to get Michelle to a doctor once we're at the border".

"OK", the redheaded cop acknowledged, wiping her eyes with both hands while the male officer placed his own hand on Winston's shoulder, prompting him to get inside, "We'll get your daughter seen as soon as possible, ma'am".

"To be honest, the sooner we're out of Raccoon, the better we'll _all_ feel", the girl's mother replied with a tired smile, causing several other passengers to agree verbally or by nodding their heads, "I don't want to delay us any further".

"You got it, then", the redhead agreed by proceeding to close the two halves of the van door once Winston was settled on the floor next to the survivors they'd been collecting for the last hour.

"Let's get the hell out of here", the male officer added as he secured the door shut, and jogged back to the front of the vehicle, settling down behind the van's steering wheel and placing his seatbelt on while his partner climbed into the passenger seat.

Not bothering to check for other vehicles, as all other cars on this street were either abandoned or on fire, the RPD van sped down the road.

It was another three miles till the city border.

At least, another three miles on the map. Considering how many detours they'd have to take due to roads being blocked with vehicles, furniture, or just hoards of undead monsters, they'd hopefully reach their destination in another hour.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Since when did these freaks start to use projectile vomiting as a weapon?

Jill Valentine gave an irritated growl as the uniformed STARS agent proceeded down the vacant street, shotgun at the ready and visually scanning the area in front of her, and by her sides, as she walked.

It was bad enough she wasn't finding any human survivors, and she recently lost the only person she had tried to save, even if Dario Rosso was an annoying idiot. Better to have someone who aggravated her and who she managed to save, than no one at all. Especially in a night where it was seeming increasingly meaningless for her to keep fighting.

Since then, advancing from street to street, and from building to building, and even knocking on the doors of homes she passed along the way, Valentine found no one for the last hour and a half. Not to say that she found no replies to her presence, that is, as zombie after zombie limped towards her and dog after dog charged after her, only to receive a shotgun blast to the face or a handgun fired in between their eyes without delay.

Then, there was what Valentine could only describe as a giant dragonfly swooping down on her head, making the blood-drenched woman wonder what it was. The flying insect seemed to be exactly the same shape as its normal, miniature and pacifist origin, but was now about eight feet long and half a dozen feet wide at its wingspan. And unlike the bug which had the misfortune of coming into contact with the T-virus, before dying, this creature wasn't minding its own business, instead trying to attack the brunette woman from the air above.

The young RPD agent had tried to shoo it away at first, only to see it fly away and then re-attack her, its huge translucent wings batting furiously while perpendicular to its body. She next fired three rounds from her handgun into its torso, and saw black blood spurting out of its wounds, before it returned to swoop down on her head yet again. Having had enough, and not wishing to run the risk of being infected by a bite or a scratch from the gigantic animal, Valentine had next used her shotgun, aimed at the same spot of any creature who had to be stopped, that being the head. One blast from that weapon had caused the huge insect to crash down on the ground and not move any more, though its transparent wings kept fluttering uselessly against the concrete as the uniformed woman walked past it.

Then, of course, came the topic she had been complaining to herself just moments ago, those being a pair of zombies who were slowly walking towards her from about two dozen steps away. A simple enough task of placing the powerful shotgun on the compartment behind her back, and she withdrew the handgun via her right grip, aiming it via arm's length in front of her right eye. But before she could pull the trigger and destroy the two monsters that she saw via the barrel of the firearm, the zombie on the left barfed in her direction. The projectile vomit splattered all over Valentine's face and torso, staining her hair, shoulder pads and shirt along the way, and causing her to be disgusted along the way.

It was really the last thing she needed today.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"You ugly fucks!", she addressed the dead monsters who were now crumbled in the middle of the road, with a bullet hole in each of their brains, stepping over them as she tried to hold her breath while removing her shoulder pads and dropping them on the ground by her feet.

Nothing that she recalled from her past smelled as revolting as the vomit that was on her skin and clothes now, not even her cat's sandbox. But there was an even more pressing issue to consider, and that was to make sure to not keep any of the virus-laden vomit, lest some of it gets into her mouth, eyes, or any cuts on her body, thus leading her to be infected with the T-virus as well.

Valentine breathed in and out, calming herself down on purpose as she stepped over yet another corpse on the street. Along the way, she was busy reminding herself that all the zombies she was dispatching of were still human beings at one point, and hadn't chosen to be monsters. So despite her currently dangerous, and very nauseating, predicament, it would still be worthwhile to be respectful towards the people that the monsters used to be.

Movement grabbed her attention to the left, so the cop turned her face there, and stopped being so tense when she noticed that it was merely a housecat. So Valentine holstered the handgun and resumed control of the shotgun in both hands instead, even as she walked closer to where the animal was.

Standing behind the closed window of a ground-floor house, the adult yellow feline was meowing at her, though the STARS officer couldn't hear it due to the glass being completely closed between her and it. The animal who wore a red collar next tried to claw at the window, and its efforts were without success, the glass not breaking.

Valentine's initial reaction was to leave the cat there, but then she thought more of the situation as she remained standing at her full height just three feet away from the window, looking down at the animal who stared up at her.

This wasn't an ordinary circumstance, after all, and the cat's owners may very well have been dead, or had vacated the home, leaving the animal trapped inside.

She knocked on the window, as loudly as she could, looking around herself in case any monsters responded to the noise. Seeing no reaction from anyone inside, the young woman next walked around the house, and knocked on the front door, announcing that she was an RPD officer, and waited several moments before she knew there was no answer to be heard.

Proceeding on foot back to the window behind which the unlucky animal was stuck, Valentine made up her mind pretty quickly as she returned to locking eyes with the meowing animal. She could only take a moment to be grateful that her own cat wasn't even in Raccoon City, having moved to the apartment of a trusted family friend outside of this town due to her own commitments at work months ago. Then there was her subsequent inability to look after it after she had returned from the Umbrella mansion. But it still wasn't right that this particular animal was stuck in an empty house, possibly starving as days passed and its owners did not return.

So the young woman picked up a stone off the ground and used it to smash the glass open with her left hand, careful to break the window in the area that was as far from the feline as possible. As predicted, the cat quickly walked up to the wrecked window as soon as it was large enough, and squeezing through the broken glass, before jumping outside and jogging off.

She only watched it leave for a moment, glad to have helped in that particular fashion, at least.

But she had to move on, with her first priority being that of finding clean clothes, and fast.


	68. Chapter 58 Unavoidable Doom

Another thump was heard from the back of the moving van as both officers were nearing the military blockade around Raccoon City. This time, Winston's voice could barely be heard as he was yelling and raving on about wanting to get out of there and wishing to return to his wife. Ninety minutes of earlier protests from the elderly man ensured that the two cops were able to mostly blank out the racket.

"Sir, we're almost there!", Chisholm replied first, slowing down as he saw a yellow cat with a red collar running across the road from the right side, "Not long now before we reach our destination!".

Shakahnna followed the runaway cat's trail, watching it cross the street and disappear past one of the front gardens on the left side of the road that surrounded a dark house, where all the lights were turned off. She wondered where the animal had come from, or where it was running to, so upon turning away from the spot where the feline vanished, she took a look at the area that it had come from.

The young woman ended up rubbing her right eye with her right index finger, because she must've seen something incorrectly, as a two-legged behemoth appeared to be standing behind some of the empty houses that were a few hundred yards behind them now. Its shape was so massive that it dwarfed everything around it, even the houses.

The rookie cop returned her attention at the road ahead, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. That thing, whatever it was, couldn't have been real. As it was, it seemed taller than the houses that it stood next to, and seemingly carrying a club, much larger than any zombie, and so huge, in fact, that it couldn't have been real.

She sighed as Winston's voice was heard again, the elderly man screaming that he demanded to be let out of the van again, even as the vehicle was finally approaching a wooden barrier that had several armed soldiers behind it.

"For Christ's sake", Chisholm uttered to himself as neither he, nor his partner, replied to the civilian's request this time.

Near the blockade, one of the helmeted men in green uniforms slowly waved his arms over his shoulder to indicate for them to stop. So the driver brought the RPD vehicle to a complete halt, and put on the parking brake, before he and Shakahnna undid their seatbelts.

"I doubt the old man can hear me anyway", the male cop added in a normal tone while he and the redhead returned on their feet on either side of the vehicle.

"Hold it!", an authoritative voice called out from near the barrier as the Army sergeant there approached the two officers, even while a handful of his soldiers had their M-16 rifles aimed at the cops, "We need to know where you're coming from, and what's in the truck".

"Officers from the Raccoon City Police Department, if it's not already obvious", an irritated Chisholm answered while he and the redhead stopped moving towards the back of the van, as they had intended, the young man not having the energy for formalities anymore, "You wanna call the main office in town to check our credentials?".

"No need to be a smartass", the sergeant approached both cops as two of his men jogged to the back of the RPD vehicle and worked to open the door, "You may call me Sarge. No first name, no last name, just Sarge, Rapid Response Tactical Squad. I assume you have ID?".

The older of the two cops sighed, though he still reached within his uniform and withdrew his badge, just as his girlfriend did. It was all they had time for, before one of the two soldiers who were behind the van screamed, prompting the two cops and the rest of the Army guards to turn their attention towards that area.

"Destroyer? Kid? Report!", the sergeant ordered, marching towards where his two men still stood.

Both Shakahnna and Chisholm instinctively withdrew their sidearms, the soldiers nearby suddenly not caring about orders to keep rifles aimed at anyone who was not cleared to pass their blockage. So the large group rapidly made its way to the back of the van also, and gave out a mixture of curses, gasps and a couple of more screams as all witnessed the carnage that greeted them.

Amid the pile of more than twenty corpses, lying within their own blood, was a lone zombie in the form of an adolescent girl. The beast who had previously gone by the name of Michelle, and had been supposedly sleeping on her mother's lap, now had gore dripping down both sides of its mouth.

"Oh, Jesus...", Chisholm's eyes remained wide as Shakahnna lowered her handgun by her left side, her right palm covering her open mouth, at the thought of them having ignored Winston's pleas to be let out.

"Is there anyone alive in there?", the sergeant followed his own personal procedure by asking the question once in a loud tone.

He waited several seconds, and upon seeing no one move and hearing no replies from inside the van, he knew what he had to do.

"Do it, Grimm", the leader of the soldiers nodded once, prompting one of his troops to open fire twice, hitting the zombie that used to be a little girl in the face both times.

"Nice try, children", the sergeant slapped his palms together in an up-and-down motion, signifying the end of this particular scenario, though not their evening, as he was sure there would be more events like this, "Next time, try keeping the zombies _out_ of your safe haven, alright?".

"What do we do about the wheels?", the younger of the two guards who had initially opened the back of the van inquired while Sarge walked back towards their blockade, "Is it still usable?".

"With all that red dripping down from everywhere?", the leader of the small platoon quickly shot back at the rookie, "Kid, son, how could anyone use those wheels any more, _except_ to put in people who you _want_ to turn into a freak!".

He calmed down quickly enough, seeing that all his followers, as well as the two outsiders, were paying attention to him.

"No matter", he cleared his throat, addressing the two cops, "Nice try, but you two are done with Raccoon City, I assume".

He took one last look at the transport that had been the death of the civilians.

"Portman, drive that thing to the side, away from the road, and light it up", Sarge first ordered, receiving a verbal acknowledgement from his soldier as the other man jumped behind the steering wheel, and upon seeing the keys still in the ignition, started the vehicle.

As the van was driven away, around the corner from the road through which they had come, it was only then that the troops had felt relaxed enough to place the safety mechanism back on their rifles. Acting as a reminder to do the same, Shakahnna and Chisholm holstered their own weapon, even while they saw a light from a few hundred feet away, seemingly being the fact that the man identified as Portman had used his own equipment to burn the van and every corpse inside it.

"You children can stay with us till this whole mess gets resolved", Sarge curtly addressed the two visitors, looking forward to not hearing anything else from them till his team was relieved of duty, "But stay behind my boys at all times, and you take my orders like everyone else. Understood?".

Except that the shorter redhead cleared her throat, preventing him from returning to his duty of guarding the blockade that protected this particular exit out of Raccoon City.

Was she going to be a pain in the neck for the rest of his stay here?

"Uh, no", Shakahnna sadly shook her head, "Need to go back, actually bring more people. Haven't even fucking helped _anyone_ yet".

And to make things even worse, the other cop seemed to not be shocked by her statement, letting Sarge think that he wasn't going to protest at the insanity of her plan.

"Lady, our orders are to destroy anything that is not human if it tries to get past us and out of the city", the irritated leader countered from a few yards away, "And while the city's going to shit, you want to go _back_ into it, and give it two more targets to take out?".

"And to examine all humans for signs of infection", another male voice intercepted the conversation.

"What?", Sarge addressed the man who spoke, that being the sniper called Grimm who had killed the latest zombie, while Portman was seen jogging back to the group.

"Also to examine all civilians for infection and assist the clean ones, don't forget", the younger man added from across the blockade, rifle always in his hands and at the ready as he spoke.

"Thank you, John", his leader nodded his head towards his guard, and then returned his attention to the two increasingly-annoying officers, "And these two geniuses want to put themselves _back_ into harm's way. Look, seriously, if there _was_ some hope to save your beloved town, don't you think the powers that be would be initiating that rescue mission, instead of just evaccing everyone who's still breathing?".

"So essentially we can go eat shit?", Shakahnna's question led to some laughter from the men around her, though it was most likely for the wrong reason.

Sarge only rolled his eyes, as if someone had asked him to eat mud and describe how tasty a delicacy it made.

"You _can't_ be serious!", the older man shot back, and then turned his back to the two cops, marching towards the barricade he and his men had raised earlier, "Grimm, see to it that these two yahoos don't cause much hassle while they're waiting for their friends to come pick them up".

Passing the wooden and metal blockade, the leader of the team turned back to finish his statement.

"I assume others from the RPD will be here to appraise you of how shitty your situation is and how stupid that plan would've been if you had jumped back into the meat grinder, children", he began talking, only then seeing that the male cop was on his own, "Doesn't make any sense to...".

He looked around, wondering to himself where the redhead had gone.

And he only spotted her a few moments later, when John Grimm was busy marching after the rookie cop, who was walking backwards and away from him. Grimm indignantly held his left hand towards her, the palm up, while his right hand kept his rifle by his side. The soldier was biting his tongue to prevent himself from swearing. However, it seemed to be getting increasingly difficult to not use the M16 he had been issued with since Shakahnna had already stolen the keys he had in his pocket, which belonged to one of the three jeeps the platoon had behind the barricade.

"You give those back NOW!", Grimm ordered as she was still backing away from him, though the expression on her face indicated this wasn't a game she wanted to play either.

"He is NOT making a request!", the sergeant added his own opinion to his soldier's predicament, "Kid! Don't just stand there, goddamnit!".

"Sir, no sir!", the youngest soldier there replied by raising his own rifle, aiming the weapon at Shakahnna's head from where he stood.

"Don't you fucking dare!", that led to Chisholm withdrawing his own handgun, pointing that weapon at the young guard, leading to everyone else there aiming their respective weapons at the older cop.

The tense and silent standoff continued for a few moments, no one at the scene panicking and pulling a trigger, fortunately, before the rookie cop turned her attention to the leader of the platoon, her right hand still keeping a death grip on the new keys.

"You'd have to be a right cunt to kill someone over a car", Shakahnna told him, "BUT let us assume that you are all not that big douchebags... There are kinda three keys on this ring, so I'll assume you have three jeeps. How about if my friend and I take one, and we're out of your way. Or we can continue this pish till some of us end up dead, but all the cars will still be here?".

"Shiiiit, man!", the one named Portman sniggered from behind the barrel of his rifle as the weapon was still pointed at Chisholm's head, "The whole federal government's gone and given up on that shithole, and you two think you're gonna make a difference? You're dumber than I thought".

"For God's sake", it was the leader of the platoon who intervened next, "Just give these two

retards one of the jeeps, John, as long as they promise to get the hell _away_ from us".

"You serious, Sarge?", Grimm's reply indicated he was surprised at the man's yield.

"Radio HQ and tell them we need another vehicle", the older man continued, "I can't be doing with this shit right now, not when we're trying to prevent what's in Raccoon from spilling out to the rest of the fucking world".

"Yes, Sarge", the younger soldier marched up to Shakahnna and grabbed the ring of three keys out of her hand, casually removing one, and handing it to her as they locked eyes, his expression being a mixture of annoyance and amazement at her actions, before he returned to his team with the other two keys, "The licence plate is on the base of the key".

"Thank you kindly. Come on, Chino, sweetheart", Shakahnna exhales loudly as she saw her boyfriend slowly holstering his sidearm, a moment before the soldiers lowered their own weapons.

It wasn't even midnight yet.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Juan Cruz gasped while opening his eyes, the 36-year old man initially not remembering where he was, and not knowing why he couldn't see anything.

He also couldn't understand why water was pouring all over his face, and why it was so sticky when he tried to touch it with his fingers.

Then he groaned louder, now remembering what had happened as he shook his head, wanting to clear the cobwebs that were in his mind.

The good news was that his memory returned pretty quickly. The bad news was that what he recalled was all bad, or even hopeless.

The married man remembered how he was driving the family car with his wife next to him in the front passenger seat, when they were crossing an intersection where the green light was facing them. But while there, a truck had run its own red light, the larger vehicle then barrelling into their car from the right side. The impact had sent their green vehicle flipping over twice, and then finally coming to rest upside-down on its roof.

Juan didn't know how long he had been unconscious, but screamed out more in frustration than in physical pain as he was still strapped to the same spot via his seatbelt. Granted that the restraint had probably saved his life, but he looked to his own right, towards the front passenger seat, and couldn't see his wife at all.

Come to think of it, he couldn't see anything, as it had been several hours after sunset, and for some strange reason, none of the streetlamps were working, and his own car's headlights had stopped operating after the crash. So the ill-fated man was stuck in nearly pitch-black darkness, with no idea where his wife was. Amid the worry, he also wondered why no help was coming, considering the accident had occurred in the middle of a busy street in Raccoon City.

Surely either pedestrians or other motorists would've stopped to see that they were alright, before calling the authorities.

And where in the world was his wife?

"Anna?", he called out, and received no reply, the silence only causing him to panic more.

Juan couldn't see anything still, but he had to move. He surely had to do something to get out of the mangled metal death trap that was his car, and check on where his wife was.

He tried to push himself out of his seat, only to be reminded again that his seatbelt wasn't allowing him any mobility. He fumbled for the lock at the base of the seatbelt, and pressed it, but the device wouldn't be released.

He grunted to himself in further irritation as his situation just wasn't improving, and not knowing his wife's location and status made things infinitely worse.

A noise from outside caught his attention, before the driver's side door was pulled open. Juan looked in that direction, and was about to ask the kind Samaritan for help in please looking for his wife first, when a familiar voice addressed him.

"Darling, hold on!", Anna Timmin's voice greeted him, Juan's spouse having been the one who had opened her husband's door, even while her frame was only a silhouette in the darkness.

The 29-year old woman crouched down on her hands and knees, and used her own fingers to reach for his seatbelt, and managed to free him from that restraint. Then, gripping her dazed husband's shoulders, she pulled him out of the car, till they were both away from the wreck, and catching their breath on the pavement.

At least out here, a tiny amount of illumination from the moon and stars above made it possible to see the minimum of detail. Juan found himself lying on his back due to being dragged away from the vehicle by his wife. He lifted his upper body up on his elbows, while seeing smoke emanating from his upside-down car. Next to him, Anna was now simply seated on the concrete, almost as if she was resting comfortably, the woman with the short blonde hair keeping her eyes locked with her husband's as he partially sat up.

He touched his own face again, only now noticing that most of his head was covered in blood from a wound just above his forehead.

"Are you alright?", Juan thought out loud first, glad that he wasn't in as much pain as he could've been, considering the accident they just had, "What the hell just happened?".

"I don't know, darling", Anna caught her breath, "Some lorry had people hanging off its side, and it sped into us and kept driving".

"Where the hell _is_ everybody?", the older man looked around next, only now noticing how strange and isolated this usually vibrant street now appeared, with no streetlamps operating.

His eyes caught sight of the bodies that were scattered throughout the road, some of the corpses hanging out of windows, as if people had tried to jump out of their homes, and failed to do so. From her reaction, his wife had noticed them too.

"I don't know", she replied, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, "But something's _seriously_ wrong, darling".

She felt a pain in her stomach, as if it was a cramp, and reached down to rub her abdomen with her right hand, and touched the shrapnel that was sticking out of it.

"Oh god!", Anna wheezed as she looked down there while her fingers wrapped around the bloody metal that was imbedded in her stomach, protruding out of the hole in her shirt.

She stared back up at her husband, who saw it also, and only then understood the severity of her injury.

"Juan?", was all the younger woman managed to utter before she collapsed on the ground, lying on her side, as her husband staggered to his own feet and rushed towards her.

"I NEED SOME HELP HERE!", her spouse squatted behind her and screamed out to his surrounding environment as he held her head in his lap.

No reply at first, but a few moans next answered his call.

The married couple looked in the direction of the noise, and they both gasped with new terror as what appeared to be inhuman creatures began appearing out of destroyed shops. The monsters moaned again, louder this time, as they were coming closer to the two injured humans.

"What the fuck _are_ those things?", Juan asked first, his eyes visually scanning everywhere, and only finding the same scenario, "Where's the police?".

"I don't know, darling!", Anna replied while looking up at her spouse, appearing to be as afraid as she felt, "But I don't think I can walk!".

"Maybe if I go into one of these stores, I can use a phone to call for help!", he had an idea as he returned his gaze down into her eyes.

"No, NO!", she gripped his arm while looking up at him, "I know I'm dying! Just don't leave me! Please! Don't leave me!".

The older man considered going against her wishes and running into a nearby shop to find a phone anyway.

Then again, if this street was going to hell, and no police, no ambulance and no fire engines were around, maybe it was like this all over Raccoon City. In which case, all he'd be doing was to leave alone the most important person in his life while she was dying.

"We're not dead yet", he whispered back while clenching his teeth, "Put your arms around me".

"What?", she appeared confused by his request, but did what was asked anyway, wrapping her elbows around the back of his neck.

Juan grunted in pain as he stood up, while simultaneously placing his arms underneath her lower back and behind her knees.

He looked around, trying to remember which way was home, and then began walking.

Home was only about 2 or 2.5 miles from here at most, anyway.

At the rate that he was walking, how many hours would it take him to get there?

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Any reason we're doing this?", Chisholm finally had to ask as he was carrying the last batch of clothes from the H&M Boutique in downtown Raccoon City.

He and Shakahnna were finally finished ransacking the place, the items being placed in the trunk and backseat of their new vehicle.

"Because from now on, not only are we going to check every fucking survivors for bite marks, we're also going to make them change clothes", his girlfriend mentioned as she was strapped in via the seatbelt to the chair behind the steering wheel, turning on the engine as the older cop got in also, "No time, no time. Can't let people get killed, and mistakes like that van back there can't be allowed ever again".

"You _know_ that wasn't your fault, Shak, or mine", the more experienced officer mentioned as their Jeep drove off deeper into Raccoon City.

"Uhuh does", she agreed, keeping her attention on the road ahead, the better to keep concentrating on her driving, than to risk crying over the dozens of people they had just failed to save, "It's Umbrella's. But we'll deal with those fuckers later".

Assuming Wesker survives this massive outbreak, and she did too, she internally cringed at the former captain's response to this catastrophe against White Umbrella members.

And she thought he had been too ruthless before.

Supposing they were both alive by the time it ended, that is, which was truly a big assumption.

"I'm so sorry", she whispered only to herself under her breath, addressing the civilians she had failed to help so far, unsure if her companion heard her or not.

"If it's possible, we should head back to the RPD", Chisholm suggested, "If the roads are passable between here and there, that is. Our biggest chance to bring out survivors may be there, and if we find anyone alive along the way, more the better".

The redhead behind the steering wheel said nothing initially, and the older cop was about to ask if she was alright, as if that wasn't a senseless question when the city was falling apart around them, killing everyone they came across. But what else was there for him to do?

He was about to ask the question anyway, when the rookie turned a sharp left, steering the vehicle they were in past a roadblock of couches and cabinets that had already been overrun by monsters.

It looked like she agreed with his plan to return to RPD headquarters after all.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Having no watch on his person, and not having any electricity to show what time it was on the clock tower they passed near City Hall, it was impossible to tell how long the couple took to make their way home.

Juan had taken more than ten breaks along the way, having to put his wife down on the ground, ever carefully. Then, having rested his arms and legs for a few, precious minutes, they continued their trek towards the first-floor house they shared, and the sanctuary it hopefully provided.

The objectively short, but subjectively very long, trip to their street was lengthy enough to indicate to the married couple that the entire of Raccoon City was being shaken to its very foundation. Monsters were everywhere, and the government response seemed to be overwhelmed, along with the city's unfortunate citizens. So finding no help from other people, who were failing to survive themselves, Juan and Anna slowly and steadily made their way towards home. The young woman always being carried in her husband's arms, she was trying to ignore the pain that was screaming in her stomach.

Her right arm remained wrapped around the older man's neck, while her left hand kept the shrapnel in its place, buried in her abdominal muscles, as she was in even more pain when the metal object moved, however slightly.

So finally nearing their front door, Juan proceeded forward, biting his own tongue as he felt as if his arms and legs were on fire. He was so distracted with the objective of reaching that wooden doorway, to the point where he didn't hear the zombie that was approaching him from behind, even while the monster was only a few feet away.

Fortunately for him, his wife noticed the beast, having been prepared for this eventuality during the first time she was put on the concrete ground so her spouse could rest, about three hours ago now.

So with her right arm still holding on to the older man for support, the blonde woman who was being carried by her husband reached into one of her pockets via her left hand. Seeing the zombie come ever closer to her husband while Juan was busy fiddling with his keychain, trying to find the housekey, Anna withdrew a brick in her left grasp. She then grunted as she swung the makeshift weapon, the brick slamming into the side of the zombie's head, a wet ~CRACK~ being heard as its skull fractured and the beast went down on its hands and knees.

Fortunately, that was the last of their ordeal, as Juan managed to unlock their door, and the two individuals were able to get inside the dark house, before he closed the door behind them.

Leaving the nearest zombie, and the many more like it who were further away, moaning outside, Juan carried his wife to the largest sofa in the living room, and placed her on its length. It was only when Anna was lying down on her back on the cushions that he felt how sore his back and arms truly were, even while four cats scurried around his feet, the pets who lived in this house with the married couple being happy to see them.

Juan ignored their animals just now, knowing he had much bigger issues to worry about than the fact that they were missed by the felines. But the corner of his eye caught sight of their fifth and last cat, as that particular animal was also in the living room. Standing on the living room's windowsill, this cat was angrily looking outside, at the zombie that Anna had hit. The beast was back on its feet and moaning at the married couple through the closed window from outside, while the fifth family cat hissed at it, before the feline clawed at the glass, though its claws were stopped by the window itself.

"Out of the way, Fluff", Juan roughly picked up the animal and put it on the floor, before pushing a movable cabinet in front of the window, the better to prevent the inhuman creature from coming inside if it broke the glass.

"Good idea to do that to all our windows, darling", Anna hissed in pain from the couch.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right", her husband agreed, thinking of moving towards the bedroom to secure the window there.

First, though, he stopped in the kitchen, and returned to his wife's side with a bottle of germ-killing sterile alcohol.

"I'm going to pour some of this on you", he whispered while squatting next to his prone spouse, "It's probably a good idea to keep that thing in till this nightmare outside clears out and an ambulance can be called".

"You're right", she smiled at him while accepting the plastic bottle from his hand, "Taking it out would make the wound bleed out more. But _I'll_ do it, darling. You already have things to do".

"Are you sure?", he inquired, appearing willing to administer the anti-septic himself.

"Darling, if you're paying attention to me and one of those things breaks in here, we're going to have much worse to contend with", she explained.

"Of course", he reached forth and kissed her on the forehead, "I'll be right back".

"Not going anywhere", the young woman smiled again as she watched him leave to barricade the window in their bedroom.

Holding her breath, she uncapped the alcohol bottle and poured a third of its content over the bloody wound on her stomach, causing her to scream first, and then lower her tone to a hiss as she breathed in and out heavily.

It wasn't long before Juan returned, having secured the second window, and kissed her on the lips this time, before proceeding to the kitchen area, and the third window there.

Some more noise akin to nails being hammered into the wall, and the older man was back to the living room again, this time sitting down on the floor and staring at his wife, who looked back at him. He lit a candle that was attached to a metal holder via a lighter, and the single flame provided a bit of illumination in their living room now.

"Make sure I stay awake?", Anna asked of him, to which he agreed, extending his right hand, which she accepted with her own grip.

It was a moment of silence as the two of them locked eyes.

"Your kids must be horrified", she finally whispered.

"Darling, every animal I look after at the zoo is sleeping soundly in their cages just now", Juan scoffed, "They're probably the only relaxed beings in this whole fucking city right now".

Another moment of silence as all five cats surrounded his seated position, Juan making sure to prevent them from affectionately jumping on his wife.

"Do you need anything?", he followed through, "Water, maybe?".

"Nah", the younger woman whispered back, "Maybe later, though".

"I bet you're glad I've been keeping a goddamn apocalypse cupboard all these years, though", he laughed at what everyone he knew called his paranoia, "I suspect we'll be using all that food, water, medicine and candles in the coming days, till this shit outside gets cleared up".

"I just had a horrible thought", her words hung in the air heavily for a few moments.

"What's that?", he held his breath for more bad news as he took a hold of the alcohol bottle, closed it and placed it on the floor near him.

"What if it's not just Raccoon City?", Anna added, "What if this is the end of the world?".

"Don't think like that", her spouse proceeded to stand back up, kissed her on the forehead, and let go of her hand for a moment.

He moved towards the television set in the living room, and turned it on, wanting to see if there was any news about this emergency. Unfortunately, nothing was there, as the electricity was still not on.

"I need you to stay awake and with me tonight, darling", Juan kept the television on, for when the electricity returned, "We'll see what's happening come sunrise".

A meow was heard from further away, so both of them looked around, thinking that one of their five cats had wandered off. Surprisingly, though, all five of their felines were still surrounding Juan, so the married couple naturally wondered where that new noise was emanating from.

"Ssshhh", she whispered, and waited for a few moments, only listening to her own heartbeat, before another meow was heard from outside the front door.

"Should I check?", the older man asked, looking in the direction that the noise was coming from, and then back at his spouse.

"Be careful and hurry", Anna approved, prompting her husband to return to his feet and jog towards the front door.

Juan grabbed a ten-inch butcher knife from the kitchen along the way, and disappeared from Anna's sight. She heard him opening the only door to their home, and then closed the door a few seconds later.

Then, her husband returned to the couch where she was resting and nursing her injury, and the young woman and their five cats saw that the older man was holding a large yellow cat with a red collar in his arms.

"It was outside, wanting to get in", her husband mentioned, before the sixth feline jumped out of his arms and nuzzled its head with the first family cat who was there.

"Welcome to the family, then", the blonde woman chuckled, "It can go looking for its family once it's safe outside".

He returned to sitting on the floor, keeping a vigil on his wounded wife, both of them eagerly awaiting for some sign of civilisation to return via the television set when electricity was working again, or for daybreak.

Or hopefully both.


	69. Chapter 59 Enter Nemesis

"Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me", Jill Valentine sounded as annoyed as she felt while she found the H&M Boutique at the edge of Downtown Raccoon to be almost empty.

Bare, that is, except for all the miniskirts and tube tops that were left, with all the other clothes being gone.

Apparently, someone else had already emptied this place, and had an seemingly sadistic sense of humour where the thief only left what the young woman described as hooker-wear on the display stands. But what else was there to do? The RPD officer didn't want to remain in her current uniform any longer, not considering that she was covered in so much zombie vomit, any of which had the potential of infecting her if she acquired a cut.

Surely, though, there had to be something better to wear.

Anything.

Unfortunately, a more thorough search of this place found nothing else, just more hooker-wear. So the young woman sighed to herself, keeping her grip on the shotgun while understanding that too much time had already been wasted. There was a war to fight outside of the Raccoon City Mall, of course. It was all the more reason to remember to keep the undead out of grasping range since now, not even her uniform would protect her adequately.

And it was pretty warm outside for this time of year, at least.

-x-x-x-x-x-

It was about thirty minutes later, and eight dead zombies later, that agent Valentine made her way to the front entrance of the currently-quiet Raccoon Police Department.

While this place had been full of hundreds of people just a few hours ago, it was eerily quiet just now, leading the brunette in the blue tube top and black miniskirt to wonder where most of those officers and civilians had gone. Everything was alarmingly empty and easy to gain access to, when it should have been like a fort, considering that everyone would have come here. This confirmed all the negative thoughts which had been with her since the beginning.

Though maybe they could they have been evacuated to somewhere safer now? Or was she being too optimistic? Probably the latter, which meant it was even more reason to be on her guard. After all, if the station was breached, then there was truly no official safe haven in the entire city.

So where did that leave her?

The young woman made a plan to go into her place of employment, and help herself to more ammunition for her handgun and her shotgun, and decide more after that.

Except that someone was heard running towards her from the other end of the courtyard outside the RPD headquarters. She spun in that direction, shotgun ready to greet whatever was following her, and quickly pointed the powerful weapon towards the sky with both hands as her eyes widened. Valentine gasped in surprise as Brad Vickers came bolting towards where she stood, her former colleague from STARS Alpha Team was staggering away from something, seemingly deathly afraid of something.

"Brad!", the brunette reacted instinctively while she stood her ground, pleased to see him despite herself, watching him come closer still, "When did you even come back to Raccoon City?".

"JILL!", was all he managed he reply, extending his left hand towards her, while a handgun remained in his right grasp, "HELP!".

She didn't get a chance to ask what was wrong, as a male voice growling "STARS" was heard by them both as if the word was announced via a static-filled loudspeaker.

It leapt in the space between Valentine and Vickers, a 9-foot tall monster that was bigger, and scarier, than anything the young woman had ever seen, including her mission at the Umbrella mansion. The beast was dressed in a black trench-coat, its purplish skin seeping with the T-virus, and its right eye was stitched shut, as it looked down at her puny figure, and then at Vickers'.

Neither officer reacted as they wished they had, both Vickers and Valentine freezing in place for a few seconds as they merely screamed in terror, barely able to believe that such a behemoth was there. However, the monster was not wasting its time, as it turned its attention towards the male cop, marching towards the terrified Alpha Team pilot.

Vickers' hand shook as he raised his right hand and opened fire, the handgun there having no effect on the monster as the bullets just disappeared in its trenchcoat. Valentine regained her wits, taking aim with her shotgun and unloading its immense firepower into the giant's back. However, despite her currently-enraged screaming as she walked after it, continually pulling the trigger on her shotgun, even her attacks were ignored by the beast as it still reached for the young man.

The male cop's handgun was emptied, and he tried to walk backwards still as the behemoth grabbed his throat with its left hand, and effortlessly lifted him in the air. Vickers chocked in its grip, unable to breathe, as his eyes was staring into its sole eye. It growled again as it pointed its right hand at his head. The unfortunate man heard Valentine screaming again, and firing the last of her shotgun rounds into the beast from behind, before a spear shot out of its right hand, and impaled his throat.

Gasping in shock, Valentine's mouth gaped as she watched it drop Vickers' corpse on the ground, and it growled the word "STARS" again as it now turned its attention back to her.

Knowing that the shotgun was empty, and had been useless when used, and her Samurai Edge handgun would fare no better, the young woman backed away. As with her former colleague, the monster marched after her, in the same manner that a hungry lion would zero in on a wounded deer. So the horrified woman turned away from it and just bolted towards the front door of the RPD, dropping the shotgun along the way as she only kept her attention on her destination.

She could hear the beast chasing her, and gaining on her, from behind, sounding like a locomotive that was barrelling down on her. But she managed to reach the front door of the RPD first, and rushed inside the building. Once inside the RPD headquarters, the panicked young woman moved to close the massive door behind herself, not even noticing that the lobby was completely empty.

Valentine faced the door, new fear preventing her from being able to breathe, as she walked backwards and away from the entryway that separated her from the ugly behemoth that had killed Vickers.

From the other side of the large door, the monster seemingly tried to rush its shoulder against the entryway, and the vertical obstacle shook terribly from the impact. The brunette whimpered, covering her mouth with both palms as she stepped backwards still, as the monster tried to break the door down a second time.

A second explosion of noise from outside, and the doorway weakened, but still remained intact. So the young woman backed away still, now regretting having lost her shotgun, and instinctively withdrew her handgun, though she knew the smaller weapon was useless against this attacker.

So why wasn't it ramming the door a third time? Especially considering that a third assault would probably demolish the doorway and give it full access to the RPD lobby.

Valentine regained the ability to breathe again, thinking a bit more clearly now as she held her firearm with both hands, pointing the barrel of the weapon towards the closed door as her heart beat loudly in her chest.

Come to think of it, the Alpha Team agent suddenly didn't care why the giant freak wasn't trying to come through the door to rip her to pieces, like it had seemed to want. Instead, she jogged further into the RPD headquarters, keeping her eyes on the main front door still, and glad that the monster didn't pursue her. Whatever the monster's reason for not following her, the young woman was going to take advantage of it, and go further into the RPD, and quickly find her way out via another exit. No matter what she found elsewhere, it wasn't going to be as bad as that unstoppable fiend.

The young woman retained her right grip on the handle of the Samurai Edge, and wiped the tears out of her eyes with her left forearm as she retreated further into this building. She'd have time to mourn Vickers' death later, if she was still alive.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Unknown to Valentine, the 9-foot tall monster with one useful eye and clad in a black trenchcoat was distracted after the second time it collided its shoulder with the door to the RPD. Before it was able to deliver a third blow into the vertical obstacle, however, it sensed the presence of someone who appeared to be stronger than any other creature in this city, and may even have been a threat to its existence.

Standing at his full height on the other side of the courtyard outside RPD headquarters, former captain Albert Wesker removed his sunglasses, tucking the shades into a pocket within his blue Police uniform. When the monster turned to look at him, the smaller man didn't shirk away, his teeth clenching against each other in outrage as he also saw Vickers' body on the ground.

The giant turned its full attention towards the blonde man, who still wasn't moving from where he stood as Wesker cracked his knuckles. He saw that the monster seemed to wear a trenchcoat that was made out of Kevlar, and if it was responsible for Vickers' death, then it wasn't going to get to walk away from here.

"STARRRRS...", the beast growled dangerously again as it carefully walked towards him.

"STARS?", the smaller adversary narrowed his eyes as it came closer still, "Your very limited vocabulary informs me that you would be stalking my friends and all other STARS members, but you ignore _me_?".

The monster only snarled without saying anything else as it marched nearer.

"Can you comprehend how insulting that is?", Wesker smirked as he withdrew his Desert Eagle, wanting to test just how tough this unnatural beast was, as an indication of what he'd have to fight.

He extended the weapon at arm's length in front of his face, his right hand pulling the trigger eight times. Eight flathead rounds exited out of the weapon, and five found their mark on the giant's torso, showing no effect against its coat. Three other bullets smacked into its face, and the behemoth grunted in pain and threw its head back, but still showed no further damage.

Even Wesker had to admit that he was surprised and impressed at how tough the brute was.

So he holstered the empty Desert Eagle, and rested his upper arms by his sides, his forearms extending parallel to the ground, and his fingers curling towards himself.

"Come then", he sneered, daring the monster to attack.

The giant didn't seem to need any further encouragement, rushing towards the smaller opponent as it roared. Wesker didn't wait for it to reach him, instead running ahead to meet it.

Wesker tackled the giant who was several feet taller than him, and the impact from their collision spun the pair around. The former STARS captain pushed forth, shoving the monster backward, until the giant's back crashed through the brick wall of the first floor of the building that neighboured the RPD. The monster bellowed again as it was pushed further, past the hole its back created in the wall, as bricks exploded and then rained down on the two combatants. With his grip on either side of its coat, Wesker kept driving it backwards, though he suspected it was screaming through instinct and not with pain.

The beast grunted, a mixture of annoyance and something less tangible at the strength shown by an adversary as small as the blonde man. Keeping its hands on Wesker's shoulders, it pushed back, driving the former captain backwards in its own turn. The duelling pair was shoved out of the building, back into the night air, across the street, before Wesker was driven through a tree. The massive trunk was ripped out of the ground as Wesker's back sheared it, before both him and the monster kept being pushed through the area.

Wesker's back came to a stop once he impacted against the wall of an adjacent building, but without going through the structure this time. The former captain let go of his opponent's Kevlar coat and simply slammed both his palms into its solar plexus. His effort pushed the giant away as the behemoth was made to stagger several steps backwards, and away from him.

A moment of silence as both superhumans irately stared at each other. With both of them uninjured, neither was willing to retreat, but also neither knowing how to finish this battle.

"You make for a formidable foe indeed", Wesker thought out loud, though he doubted it understood him, "A Nemesis to equal even _my_ strength. But whatever they have mutated you into, I'm giving the person you used to be the peace he or she deserves".

For a brief moment, he thought that this beast may have been agent Forrest Speyer, as there something about the way it regarded him. After the Bravo Team officer had been overcome by monsters in the Umbrella mansion, maybe his body was used to make this monstrosity? But Wesker cleared his head, knowing that the odds of his newfound Nemesis being Speyer were low, and whether it was the younger man or not, Wesker's plans wouldn't change.

"Though your resilience is formidable", he thought out loud as he carefully marched towards the giant, "I would wager you have no comprehension of your own Achilles heel".

Taking a chapter from officer Warren's proverbial book, he put all the strength in his right leg, and kicked the monster in the groin. The former captain nodded his head to the redhead's style, but even while he withdrew his right boot from the area between the juggernaut's thighs, he could see that the beast didn't show any new pain from the offensive.

Nemesis roared while looking up at the sky and stretching its massive arms into the air, seemingly getting ready to strike back. Before it had the chance to, however, Wesker reacted first.

After all, if he had enough power in his hands to break someone's arm by simply holding it, then what kind of damage could fully unrestrained blows deliver?

His closed right fist delivered a jab into the giant's stomach, causing his adversary to bend forward from the hit. He followed that attack with a left hook punch into its scarred face, before his left elbow immediately followed, Wesker sending that elbow slamming into its jaw for a third strike.

A kick to the side of the monster's right knee almost caused the behemoth to lose its balance, before Nemesis regained its stance. However, before Wesker could continue with further punishment, a corner of his left eye spotted colours and movement down the road that indicated a human was there.

He quickly turned his attention to the left, and spotted a young woman dressed in pink, with shoulder-length blonde hair. She seemed scared to be out in the open, and even more terrified when she saw what the former captain was fighting, to the point where she backed away from the scene.

"This is going to have to wait", Wesker commented to himself as he turned his concentration on the giant, better to not leave himself open to a counter-attack while he was distracted.

He rushed to his right, and took a hold of a 40-foot high streetlamp, before ripping the vertical metal rod out of the ground. Then, holding one edge of the streetlight, even while Nemesis growled angrily and marched towards him, Wesker swung the streetlamp like a baseball bat. The opposite side of the metal pole smacked against the monster's torso, and sent the giant flying up and backwards into the air.

The former captain watched Nemesis soaring against its will into the sky. The airborne beast reached more than fifty yards upwards, as it was also thrown several streets away, its outraged scream displeased at what happened. It quickly disappeared past his line of sight, vanishing behind rows of buildings, and he heard a dull ~thud~ where it had landed several hundred yards away.

Fortunately, now that it was gone, he could turn his consideration to the female civilian there, so he dropped his makeshift weapon.

"You'll be safer if you stay by me", he curtly advised to the shorter woman while walking towards her, and was glad that she stopped retreating.

The terrified woman said nothing, which was probably good for him, as it let the former captain concentrate on the four zombies who emerged from the hole left in the wall that Nemesis had crashed into earlier.

Wesker nodded towards her once, pointing his right index finger in her direction via an arm's length in front of his face as a reminder to not go anywhere. He then casually proceeded towards the four new sources of threat. The four zombies tried to reach for him with their outreached arms, and the first one had its neck broken as Wesker nonchalantly moved to the second beast. He gripped that zombie's neck in his right palm, and merely ripped its throat out. His actions resulted in the second zombie's head being removed from its shoulders as Wesker dropped the severed neck from his blooded right hand.

With two more zombies advancing against him, the former captain grabbed both their heads, one in each hand, and slammed their skulls together. The third and fourth zombies moaned for the last time as both their heads exploded from the impact, and the decapitated bodies sank to the ground in their own turn.

A human scream demanded his attention while he was wiping the gore from his right palm against the nearest wall, and Wesker saw that the terrified woman in the pink clothes was yelling out. She was looking past him, though, so he followed her line of sight, and saw thirteen more zombies quickly looming towards him from across the road. The frightening spectacle was enough to convince the unfamiliar woman to turn around and run off, primal fear guiding her actions when she may have otherwise stopped and asked what made Wesker as he was.

"No! Don't leave!", he called after her anyway, though suspecting she wouldn't listen.

The taller man in the blue RPD uniform tried to go after her, and was interrupted when the first two zombies out of the group of thirteen made a grab for his head and torso. He turned to see a female monster drooling as it tried to shove its fingers into his mouth, even while the blonde woman turned around the street corner and was out of sight.

The female zombie groaned while grabbing his lower face with both hands and trying to bring her open mouth closer to his. In another time and place, it may have seemed as if it was trying to kiss him, Wesker comprehending that it only saw him as food.

"No, thank you", he sighed while taking a hold of its wrists and pulling her arms off him, "I already have a girl".

Too bad he was only speaking to himself while the zombie grunted as he ripped its arms out of their sockets.

-x-x-x-x-x-

From the blonde woman's point of view, the hysterical human left the battle between the strange cop and the monsters behind as she turned the street corner. She stopped running for an instant when she spotted a horse galloping past her. Unfortunately, just like the monsters who were overrunning the city, the horse didn't look normal. Much of its skin was falling off its body, exposing the veins and muscles underneath, and it didn't seem to feel any pain as it dashed away nonetheless. Fortunately for her, though, either it didn't see her, or it saw her and ignored her being there, as it kept galloping.

Following its trail, the young woman next saw a jeep driving away from the opposite side of the street, with what appeared to be two cops in the vehicle, a male and a female. However, neither one of them saw her as the vehicle vanished around a corner a moment later.

The lady in pink already knew that trying to run after the two officers in the jeep would've been useless, so she swallowed a lump in her throat, remembering to breathe.

Not knowing where to go, as every part of this nearly-dead and forsaken town seemed to be as dangerous as any other, she initially decided to go in the direction opposite where the horse had been headed.

So she turned away from where the monster had galloped towards, intending to walk in the reverse path.

And screamed out in terror when she bumped into someone who had managed to reach her without her even hearing it.

Her arms flailed uselessly as she was sure she was about to die, while her eyes were instinctively closed, not wanting to see death coming. She kept screaming even when human hands gripped her shoulders, and a female voice repeatedly told her to calm down.

The blonde woman finally opened her eyes again, and her tired arms drooped by her sides, as she realized it was another female human who was looking at her.

This one was about the same age as her, but with shorter, darker hair, and dressed in a blue tube top and black miniskirt. The more relaxed female also had an expensive-looking handgun in her right grip as she kept a left grasp of the blonde woman's right shoulder, facing her.

"Uh, I like your clothes, dearie", the blonde woman laughed, and then felt like crying as the second person kept her eyes locked with her own.

"Thanks", Jill Valentine gave a sarcastic appreciation, "Now, if you come with me, I may be able to help you get out of this hellhole in one piece. Interested?".

The woman in pink said nothing verbally, only hugging herself as if she was cold, even though it was still warm outside, and quickly nodded her head several times.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Albert Wesker wondered if this was the closest thing to emotions he would feel from now on.

Having turned over Brad Vickers' nearly headless corpse, the former captain hadn't felt nauseated, like normal humans would have, and hadn't even winced. Instead, the man in blue proceeded to his task of going through the dead person's pockets.

Withdrawing Vickers' empty pistol, which Wesker assumed had been used on Nemesis during the younger man's final stand, along with his keychain, his loose cash and his wallet, the ex-head of STARS reflected on what his actions meant for himself on the long run. Then again, he had to chastise himself pretty quickly, his more objective voice telling his emotional side to not waste so much time being sentimental.

Of course, most people would've been more disgusted, and distressed, at seeing Vickers' remains. Then again, that had nothing to do with him being reborn after the Umbrella mansion exploded, as most people thought he was too cold or odd even back when he was a human being. And Wesker felt almost as saddened, in a restrained fashion, at Vickers' death, as he did after officer Frost died. From what he understood of psychology, it was better that he respected those who had died, and remembered them in his actions, such as when he was disposing of Umbrella monsters and staff, than being an emotional wreck after experiencing someone's loss.

So in lieu of his current situation, he concluded that his self analysis was a wasted effort.

He discarded Vickers' weapon, the handgun being useless to the former captain, especially when placed in comparison to his own body, and his normal weapons. He also had no need for the cash, letting the two five-dollar notes and several one-dollar pieces of paper flutter away in the light breeze. Going through the younger man's wallet, though still suspecting this ritual wasn't going to find anything useful, Wesker looked through the library card and driver's licence.

It was only then that his eyes narrowed.

Something behind the driver's licence was sending out very low-level sound waves, almost like a dog whistle that could be heard by canines and not by humans, except that this noise was only two or three percent as strong as such that hum.

Intrigued, Wesker let the wallet, and most of its contents, fall on the ground by his feet, and examined the source of the mysterious sound. Behind Vickers' driver's licence had been a newly-issued STARS identification card. Same size and shape as most cards, to fit conveniently in the young man's wallet, but even a casual inspection by the former captain allowed him to easily see that a microchip was embedded in this item, sending out the constant low-level signal.

So that's how the giant in Kevlar was hunting down STARS members, and why it had not bothered with Wesker.

The former captain looked around, actually hoping that Jill Valentine had returned to the area in front of RPD headquarters after Nemesis was now gone, so he could at least warn her to get rid of her own STARS identification card. Of course, that kind of good fortune did not happen.

Frowning at Umbrella's newest attempt to silence its competition, Wesker decided to try to find her, as well as anyone else in this city that may have that same target on their person.

And just for good measure, he tucked Vickers' STARS identification card in one of his own pockets. If that beast wanted to hunt down anyone who was carrying that mark, then maybe Wesker would get lucky, and have Nemesis come after him first. That would solve the problem of others like Valentine, Redfield, Chambers or Burton from having to deal with the nine foot tall monstrosity.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Hold it!", John Grimm spoke up while slowly waving his arms up and down by his sides, the soldier watching a car with its headlights approaching the barrier he stood in front of.

It was strange that this vehicle was driving towards Raccoon City, as it was the first of its kind so far tonight. All others having tried leaving the infected area had been met by Grimm's RRTS team, and were held there before an evacuation squad arrived to pick up the survivors and check them for signs of infection, while hauling them away.

Then again, maybe whoever was driving this car hadn't heard of the fact that an apocalypse was taking place in Raccoon City just now. Maybe he hadn't listened to the radio or watched television in the last 24 hours.

Too bad the vehicle wasn't slowing down as it sped even closer towards him, honking its horn instead, as if the soldier was being an inconvenience by standing in front of the barrier.

"HOLD IT, GODDAMMIT!", Grimm raised his voice, and attracted the attention of the other men around him.

The speeding vehicle only honked again, its headlights now turning brighter as beams shone in Grimm's direction, and the young man dove out of the car's path. He jumped on the dirt and rolled his body into a ball, before standing back up, and hearing the crash of the speeding vehicle slamming into the military barrier.

The barricade his team had set up shattered in some places, but still remained vertical, though breaking in its middle to have a hole there that was large enough for the vehicle to squeeze through. Unfortunately for its driver, the large SUV now appeared to be suck, its front bumper caught in the barrier's own metal, as its four wheels kept moving, and the car didn't budge.

"Out!", Sarge ordered from behind the aim of his M16 rifle, he and the rest of Grimm's comrades encircling the car as all weapons were drawn towards it, "You're not getting another warning, dumbass!".

An automatic window was lowered from the front driver's side door, and an unusually cheerful young man who was still strapped via his seatbelt nodded at the soldiers, touching the tip of his cowboy hat with his thumb and index fingers.

"Greetings", the driver spoke first, "You gentlemen mind if I hop through here? Blockage is quite an bother".

"Shut up!", Sarge barked back, neither he, nor any of his men, lowering their weapons, "You're not going anywhere. You'll be lucky if we even _let_ you turn your wheels around and go back where you hatched from, son".

"Sir, do you _know_ what's going on in Raccoon City just now?", Grimm added with a calmer tone, being the only soldier to not have pointed a firearm at the stranger behind the SUV's steering wheel.

"I reckon I do, yes", the driver chuckled as if he had been asked a stupid question, "Been dreading it for some time. Which is why I need to get back in there, boys. Shouldn't have left in the first place, not when there's good people who are stuck there".

"You're not going anywhere, funny man", Sarge ordered, more quietly this time, "Now shut off your engine and step out of your tin can".

The driver only sighed, understanding what he had to do. More seriously this time, he nodded at the soldiers again, and reversed the SUV, much to Sarge's profanity-filled verbal protests. But while all the weapons remained aiming on him, the order to open fire wasn't heard, as the car drove back for several yards, and then accelerated towards the barricade again.

A louder crash was heard as the SUV barrelled through the obstruction, amid a scream of "MOTHERFUCKER!" from Sarge, before the vehicle burst its way towards the other side of the obstacle. From there, the driver kept speeding away, just in case any of the sentries who were guarding this route decided to open fire from behind him. Thankfully, none of the RRTS members did, the troops only being stupefied as to why anyone would want to do this.

It was the equivalent of someone breaking into a prison, after all, if the prison was full of cannibals. And while entering the said prison, one was also being sprayed with a succulent BBQ dressing. But for now, the soldiers had a barricade to fix.

And from inside the speeding vehicle, Richard Aitken stepped on the accelerator, the former STARS member in the cowboy hat breathing in and out as he made his way further into the heart of Raccoon City.

Parking the damaged, but thankfully still functioning, SUV outside Saint Martin's Cathedral fifteen minutes later, Aitken proceeded out of the vehicle. It hadn't taken him long to witness the carnage in this town, the young man seeing more gore and cadavers than he could count, and only driving past them, till he got here.

Looking up at the cathedral's 140-year old bell tower, he believed he found the ideal spot for what he wished to do. So the man in the cowboy hat retrieved the scoped sniper's rifle from the back of the vehicle, and strapped the weapon's sling to his right shoulder. Then, picking up the crate of ammunition, he proceeded on foot to the base of the tower itself.

He already spotted two zombies inside the ascending staircase, blocking his path to get to the roof of the tower, so he had to put down the crate on the floor. Withdrawing his father's 44-calibre Magnum from underneath his jacket, Aitken easily executed both monsters with a bullet to each forehead, especially as they made the kills easier by staggering closer to him before he opened fire.

Picking the crate back up after holstering his handgun, the former STARS member resumed his trek up the several flights of stairs, wheezing lightly as he finally reached the rooftop.

Once there, he moved to the edge of the bell tower, overlooking a good area of the city below him, and positioned the crate there. Sitting down on it, Aitken took a hold of the fully-loaded sniper's rifle, and looked through its night-vision scope.

There were already several viable targets for him to execute, ones that he saw even now.

But the first one that really grabbed his attention was a monster that was galloping from a nearby street, running past his position, as the infected horse proceeded past the bell tower.

Aitken took aim, and pulled the trigger once, a bullet from the rifle finding its way into the horse's brain, and dropping the infected animal dead in its tracks, the creature falling on its side without even a whimper.

Glad for the easy kill, he withdrew a bottle of Jack Daniels from the inside of his jacket, opening the container and taking a sip to celebrate, before resuming a visual inspection of this environment to decide what should die next.

As long as he kept making this street safer, then some survivors were bound to find him and come his way. And if he was truly lucky, one of those survivors may even have been Redfield, Valentine or Burton.

Only time would tell. But for now, more killing.


	70. Chapter 60 It Never Rains

"Marvin?", officer Donnelly was tempted to yell out, but fought against that instinct, instead whispering loudly, "Kevin?".

The young man's Beretta pistol was at the ready, of course, as the weapon had been gripped in his hand for most of the last 24 hours, it seemed. He couldn't even remember how many clips he had gone through so far, and he didn't seem anywhere close to being finished before this nightmare was over. He just hoped he didn't run out of ammunition before this night of countless deaths was ended. Only a howl from far away greeted him back, followed by moans from somewhere closer.

Donnelly looked around, only seeing darkness and shadows, depending on how much was visible from the moonlight above, feeling more tense than ever.

Or was that more frightened than ever?

The first question on his mind being how did the van that was driven by his best friend and the other cop's annoying girlfriend get separated from the van being controlled by himself, officer Ryman and officer Branagh? Which led onto the second question of how did he get separated from Branagh and Ryman himself?

He had only jogged away from the van for a few seconds, as he remembered it, because of hearing a possible human scream around a street corner. So when he returned, where in the world was the RPD van, and the relative safety it represented due to its metal walls and the presence of his colleagues?

Having found no one to rescue, Donnelly had returned to the spot he expected his friends to be waiting for him, before finding nothing. He anxiously looked up at the nearest street sign, and spotted that he was on Ivy Street now.

His eyes widened when he recalled that the RPD van was waiting for him to return at Wallace Street, and he had run at least two roads further on his quick objective of following the phantom scream, without realising it.

So keeping his handgun at the ready, the safety mechanism off, as usual, all he had to do was jog the next two streets to return to where his companions were. He turned in the direction of Wallace Street, and quickly marched towards it, spotting an open cardboard box on the edge of the sidewalk. Always the curious nature in him, the cop glanced inside, and was surprised further to see four small puppies who looked up at him.

He took an instant to consider carrying them with him as he stopped proceeding towards his destination, but soon decided against the idea. Shaking his head in a nonverbal apology to the animals, Donnelly knew that carrying the extra weight would only slow him down, and make it impossible to use his handgun along the way.

Surely, he couldn't take that risk just now. So sighing sadly, he resumed his trip towards Wallace Street, this time beginning to jog in that direction.

And froze when he saw that a haphazard group of more than two dozen zombies were closing in around him, each monster appearing more hungry than the last. They looked as though they had been dead longer than the rest. Grey bones visible beneath their ransacked flesh. Clothing almost completely gone in some cases.

A voice in the back of the officer's mind asked how the hell so many undead creatures had managed to ambush him during the few seconds he took to look at the puppies and make up his mind to leave them where they remained. Those monsters shouldn't have been able to be this organised and deadly, especially when they were supposed to be slow, and unintelligent.

So how was he being overcome even now, considering there were more zombies zeroing in on him than were bullets in his firearm?

Donnelly backed away from the slow onslaught of monsters, pointing the barrel of the Beretta at the forehead of the nearest monster. Not that he had much choice, other than trying to take down as many of his sluggish pursuers as possible, before trying to get past the survivors without being bitten by them.

Too bad none of his friends from the RPD were with him. Come to think of it, he'd even enjoy having Shakahnna Warren backing him up just now, and that was saying a lot.

Then again, another bark was heard, much nearer than the howling he had noticed from a couple of streets away. This bark was closer, and angrier, and getting closer still, before an adult german shepherd carefully walked towards Donnelly from behind the young cop. Initially standing next to the officer, the large dog growled at the zombies, then quietly looked at the box of whimpering puppies nearby, before looking up at the RPD agent, and then furiously growling at the zombies again. It looked exceptionally similar to the animals that the precinct trained.

The canine barked loudly again, bolting towards the group of monsters that were limping in Donnelly's direction. Unleashing a fury against the beasts as it leapt into the middle of the group that had been threatening the young man, it jumped up, its jaw wide open and aimed at the neck of the first zombie it reached. The dog's mouth clamped against the monster's throat, biting down and almost crushing the zombie's neck as it brought the undead creature down on its knees.

With that first zombie dead, the german shepherd turned its attention against the second monster as the horde of the undead surrounded it, leaving Donnelly alone. The dog reached up, intentionally biting the groin of the second beast, as several other monsters clawed at it with their fingers, biting the animal along the way. It barked back and kept biting at them vigorously, even while they dug their teeth into its flesh.

Donnelly had seen enough, even while his eyes widened at the surprising spectacle that had unfolded in front of him. But getting the message, the cop didn't want to waste any more time, holstering his weapon and grabbing a hold of the box of puppies with both his hands. He rushed through the hole in the zombie crowd that had been created when the monsters encircled the trapped canine, allowing the RPD officer and the german shepherd's children to rush past them.

He took one last look behind him, watching the crowd of the undead all around the still growling animal as they were feeding on it, and occasionally being bitten by it, as he then returned his attention ahead of himself. A surprising pang of genuine sadness at the fate of the mother.

He couldn't wait to explain this to Branagh and Ryman in regards to what he rescued while away from their van.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Why did we stop?", Chisholm inquired, the RPD van having stopped to a halt even though there wasn't an obstruction ahead of them in this particular road. From behind the steering wheel, his girlfriend had the back of her head rested against the chair behind her, Shakahnna's eyes being closed just now. Whatever she was thinking, it wasn't going to be something he wanted to hear. That much was obvious.

"Can't fucking continue", the redhead finally mentioned, not opening her eyes as her face remained expressionless, a defeated lilt in her voice that was atypical "We can't take them to the barricade". With everything else tonight it was unsurprising that they were starting to crack up but he hadn't expected his girlfriend to be affected first.

"Why the hell not?", the older cop thought out loud, keeping his eyes on her the whole time from the front passenger seat.

"Chino, sweetheart", Shakahnna opened her eyes and lifted her head to turn in his direction, "What the hell are we thinking that whoever goes to the troops and is infected is going to somehow magically get taken away for treatment?".

He said nothing, having known that their plan was overly optimistic at best, or complete fantasy at worst. The young man eventually cleared his throat, not having wanted to discuss this, but seemingly having to now. The topic was out in the open and it was clearly the first time it had occurred to his lover but not to him.

"Then what other option is there, Shak?", he eventually mentioned, trying to keep his voice from trembling, and mostly succeeding at the task, "Unless we're both gonna tell those fourteen people to get out from the back of the van and we're gonna execute them ourselves".

"No, instead we let the troops do it _for_ us?", the female rookie followed through, "And we pretend we didn't know that's what was going to happen once we reached the barricade?".

"They're all bitten!", he pointed out what both cops already knew, "So if we don't hope to find a miracle cure outside of this shithole of a city, then we may as well do that ourselves and give them a quick death, or just leave them here and drive off".

It was only then that she noticed a group of humans who emerged from the lobby of one of the buildings across the street, these survivors seemingly making themselves be noticed due to the sight of the RPD van, and the supposed rescue that represented. She nodded her head in their direction, and Chisholm looked out of the windscreen too, seeing that all eleven people who were on foot, and running towards them, seemed unhurt.

"I'll do the honours", the more experienced cop uttered to no one in particular before exiting the vehicle from the front passenger door, knowing he'd need to check these new eleven individuals for signs of infection.

Leaving the front passenger door open as he spoke to the survivors outside, and began checking their arms and necks, Shakahnna breathed in and out at the idea that she arrived at.

Not that she liked what she was pondering, of course, as it involved doing something that she hated, and Chisholm would also. And all in favour of hoping for the probably-nonexistent salvation for the unfortunate fourteen humans who were in the back of the van just now, all of them having some bite mark on their skin. So the redhead exited the van in her own turn, and returned to the back of the vehicle on foot, opening the metal doors and greeting the scared and tired faces that gazed at her from inside.

Chisholm left the new group of survivors who were still on foot and ran up to her, almost having expected her to start executing those infected inside the van. Instead, he found her to be helping the fourteen individuals out of the back of the large vehicle, one by one, and was glad that they were cooperating. Probably reacting with fear to their environment, and needing to put their trust in her uniform, hoping that she would find a way back to safety for them.

"Wh... What's going on?", the young man asked.

"Folks, we're going on a trip on foot", Shakahnna answered his question by addressing the infected humans who were still being helped out of the van, "Raccoon General Hospital is less than a mile from here, but from what I remember, all the roads leading to it are cordoned off. If there's a chance of finding a cure, it should be there".

"OK, OK, I'm with you", Chisholm nodded several times, though suddenly asking himself what they were supposed to do with the eleven uninfected survivors they had just come across.

No way could they place infected and safe people together again, not after the disaster that befell their first attempted evacuation earlier tonight.

"My boyfriend here is going to take those who don't have any marks on them to the border in the van", Shakahnna kept talking to the fourteen infected people as the last of them finished exiting the vehicle, "But all of us are going to walk towards the hospital to see what help is available there".

"What?", her boyfriend finally understood her intentions, "No, no! We're not separating! What're you, nuts?".

"Sweetness", she gently gripped his face and brought her eyes closer to him, "You need to get those who are OK out of here, I'll take the ones who aren't to Raccoon General. If there's a cure, gotta be there".

"But you don't even know what you're looking for!", he protested, angrily pulling his face away from her, "At least if that Wesker guy was there, he may know! But for all _you_ know, the cure may be right in front of you and you won't know it, assuming it even exists! No! This is stupid! We're not separating for some tiny chance of a cure!".

"Then the only other option is for us to kill these people", the redhead calmly told him with a lower tone of voice, stopping his protests, "Or to deliver them to the border troops, which is the same thing".

"Oh, dammit, this ain't happening", he whispered to himself while pulling at the hair at the top of his head with both hands.

"Chino, honey", she embraced him tight for several heartbeats, "You need to get the ones who are OK out. There's no one else I can trust to do that. No matter what happens, I won't die, right? So you go there and stay safe and I'll take everyone here with me".

He didn't reply verbally, only nodding his head several times, which she felt.

"I hope a miracle is waiting for us at Raccoon General, I really do", Shakahnna separated physically from him as she continued talking, "But regardless, once we're both done, we'll just meet at the RPD again, OK?".

He hated every details of this new plan, and nodded his head in an affirmative fashion anyway.

She hugged him again, and followed it up with a passionate kiss on the lips, before they both told the other person that they were loved.

"Right you lot, ladies and gents", the redhead uttered as she withdrew her handgun as a precaution, leading away from the van on foot, and glad that the fourteen people who needed to follow her did so without protest.

She took several glances towards her boyfriend and the RPD van that was having the eleven new survivors be loaded into its back as she walked away. Once the new civilians were inside and the metal doors were closed them, she expected Chisholm to climb behind the steering wheel and drive off. Except that didn't happen, the young man standing next to the haphazardly parked vehicle and watching her leave the whole time.

She waved at him, and he waved back, and still didn't move as she and her fourteen followers proceeded further away. It was only when they were two hundred yards away from him, and needing to turn right into a side road, when she waved to him one last time, and he waved back again, before she had to follow her course, and disappeared from his view.

How many times did it make it tonight that she hoped she wasn't making a horrible mistake?

Then again, this wasn't the first time in the last twelve hours that she had been stuck in a lose-lose situation. She just hoped that her boyfriend would reach the barricade set up by the military outside the city limits unharmed. Anything other that, she'd be able to deal with, probably

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Goddamnit", officer Donnelly heard himself swearing for approximately the thousandth time tonight.

While it was his job to drive this RPD van out of the hellhole that was Raccoon City, with officer Branagh seated next to him, and officer Ryman remaining in the back of the vehicle to keep the civilians calm, the task was proving to be increasingly difficult.

He didn't think it was his imagination that the longer this night lasted, the more difficult it was getting to manoeuvre the vehicle through the roads. And that was making the task of reaching survivors, and helping them out of Raccoon City, all the more challenging.

It was times like this that Branagh would usually tell him something he didn't want to hear, such as the fact that they should be grateful that all three officers were still unhurt, and they hadn't run out of ammunition yet. But just now, even the usually hopeful senior officer who was in the front passenger seat seemed to be tired of repeating the same pep talk that didn't work several hours ago. Instead, the older man only heaved a depressed sigh while massaging his own face with both hands, not surprised that the tension in his head wasn't being alleviated.

"Yo, dude!", Ryman's voice was barely heard from the back of the vehicle as he lightly banged on the wall to get Donnelly's attention, "Why did we stop?".

Donnelly didn't initially answer, only looking silently at the twenty-foot high wall of cars and furniture that were stacked on the road in front of him, making travel through this area, and the third route they had thought of to get out of the city, impossible.

But then, Donnelly's eyes narrowed, as he wondered if his vision was playing tricks on him.

Leaning forward in his chair, and unbuckling his seat belt in the process, the young man thought he saw someone seated on the hood of one of the cars that made up the blockade ahead of their van. A rub of his eyes indicated this was truly the case, as there was the figure of someone seated on the front of an abandoned car about a hundred yards ahead of him, past all the clutter that had been amassed on the road. This person was leaning backwards, with the right palm resting on the hood of the vehicle, while he or she seemed to be drinking from a bottle held by the left hand.

A drunk person, perhaps?

But even someone who was intoxicated should've known there was something seriously wrong around here, and taken shelter. So what was this strange person doing?

More curious than careful, Donnelly patted Branagh on the shoulder, nonverbally telling the older man to remain where he was. The young man exited the van, Beretta pistol withdrawn along the way, and proceeded towards the makeshift barricade in front of him on foot.

The closer he came to that particular spot, the more he realized that his initial assessment was correct, as the person he was carefully marching towards didn't react to his approach. Keeping the handle of the firearm held with both hands, though the weapon was still pointed towards the ground, for now, Donnelly came closer still, and was about to suggest that the person follows him into the RPD van.

Till he stopped walking when he was about ten yards away from her.

He didn't know why he was surprised that he was looking at a woman, rather than a man, but this particular individual remained comfortably seated on the front of the car while her right side was facing him. With her right arm leaning backwards, and that palm flat against the hood of the vehicle, supporting her body, she took another sip from the bottle that was in her left grip. He could see her smiling, appearing much too happy, considering what was happening tonight, as the lady with the blood-red hair that almost touched her own shoulders then pointed her right grasp towards Donnelly. Holding the bottle at arm's length and horizontally to the ground, she didn't turn her face towards the cop, addressing him while still staring ahead of herself.

"Want a sip?", the lady offered, "A little vodka to warm you up".

"Uh, no, thank you", Donnelly felt flabbergasted at her unfussy attitude, "Ma'am".

"Your choice", she energetically placed the bottle against the hood of the car she was seated on.

The glass container remained vertically there, the smell of alcohol permeating the air around them both, as the young woman giggled to herself.

"Hey, handsome", she greeted him, turning her face in his direction now, and Donnelly gasped at noticing that the left side of her visage was almost missing, gore fully visible there.

"Damn...", the young man reacted verbally to her injury, "Are you alright, ma'am?".

"Oh, of course", she giggled again, standing up to her full height and walking towards him, not slowly, but not in a hurry either.

Dressed in five-inch black high heels, her shoes made her appear taller than him as she came closer still, and gently placed her left palm on his face, smiling seductively at the cop. He had to admit that her outfit was one that caught his attention, the young woman wearing skin-tight black trousers that were red at the inside of the thighs. Then, leaving her stomach bare, her black sleeveless corset began several inches above her navel, the low-cut fabric leaving little of her torso to his imagination. Finally, long black gloves began only a few inches below her shoulders, and covered both her arms in the fabric.

He noticed that, in addition to seeming happy and energetic, she was also very clean, as opposed to him, whose grey and blue RPD uniform was covered in dirt and sweat, and the fact that he was battling exhaustion was obvious on his face and body.

"Forget about _me_ being alright, gorgeous", the seductress purred while her left hand rested on his face and her eyes were inches away from his, "If anything, I should be asking _you_ that".

"I'll live", Donnelly uttered, brushing her left hand away from his head via the back of his own right wrist, his curiosity demanding to have some questions answered, "But you should come with us if you wanna remain that way. We're stuck due to that high pile of cars and junk blocking the road, but we'll find another way out of the city".

She only gave a light laughter at his suggestion, though not appearing to make fun of him.

"What's your name?", she inquired, keeping her eyes locked with his, seemingly not taking any offence at his gesture.

"Eric Donnelly, patrolman for the Raccoon City Police Department", he replied, having described himself with that statement on more occasions that he could recall, "Do you have friends or family who are hiding somewhere, who should accompany you to the safety of our transport?".

Another laugh from her.

"No, sweetie, I'm alone", she promised, "I'm Rayne, by the way".

She offered her right hand in a friendly manner, and he gripped it, shaking hands with the strange woman.

"Good to meet you, Eric Donnelly patrolman for the Raccoon City Police Department", she repeated his own description of himself, "And I don't need any help, but thank you for being so pleasant".

"You should still come with us, even if you think you'll be OK", Donnelly insisted, turning to look at where the van still waited for him about a hundred steps away.

"I'll _always_ be OK", Rayne mentioned with a more serious tone when the cop returned his attention to her, and something about her tone indicated he should believe her.

A moment of silence as a howl was heard from an unknown area, and either Branagh or Ryman then honked the horn of the RPD van, wanting him to return.

"Who are you?", the young man inquired, and only saw her smile at him without an answer, so he held his breath before continuing, "Or _what_ are you?".

"You're more intelligent than most of your kind to notice", the grin remained on her face as she made the statement.

She narrowed her eyes, and exhaled slowly as she brought her face even closer to his, almost touching her lips with his, waiting to see if he would back away when she stopped smiling and tensed her jaw. He believed that the gaze of a predator was on her features, and maybe she was expecting him to be scared and retreat.

She wasn't disappointed, as he didn't walk backwards and away from her, returning to where his friends were waiting. She thought it was good for him to have such character.

"Vampire", Rayne finally mentioned while withdrawing herself to within an arm's length of him, "Centuries-old nomadic. Ten years here, twenty years there. Been all over the world in the last couple of centuries, and ended up in this corner of the globe sometime after Hiroshima".

"Oh, alright then", Donnelly sighed at the information he just heard, "So... How do you like it here?".

She giggled cheerfully at his question, now showing off four teeth in her mouth that were larger than normal.

"I love this realm. I love North America", she told him, "I love the clubs you have. Spend all my nights there. I came to Raccoon City just a few months ago after hearing of strange events taking place here. Wanted to see what those were, and now I do".

"Are these monsters like you?", the officer asked her, hoping to get some clarity to the nightmare that was swallowing the city.

"No", Rayne shook her head, "They're not creatures of magic like me, just of science. I'm sustained by blood, they're sustained by flesh, all of it".

"Do you eat people?", Donnelly inquired next.

"No", she continued, "At least not usually. Living on animal blood now, straight from any butcher I can buy it from or trade for it. It's enough to sustain someone like me. Human blood's better, of course, and tastes better too, but I don't target your kind, most of the time. Only drain the blood of murders, rapists, capitalists".

She laughed at her own sense of humour.

"Now, your second world war, _that_ was a great time", Rayne continued after she stopped laughing, "So easy to target everyone in a Nazi uniform".

She hummed for sentimental reasons as she first brushed her palms upward against her face, and passed her fingers through her bright red hair while turning away from the cop and slowly walking in the opposite direction from him.

"I _crave_ fights, challenges", the vampire mentioned while her back was turned to him, "Kinda turns me on, if you like. So I saw him, off in the distance, running around your city. Have _you_ seen him, Eric Donnelly patrolman for the Raccoon City Police Department?".

"Who?", the officer inquired, causing her to stop walking away and turn back to face him from several yards away.

"About nine feet tall, wearing black, though not _nearly_ as pretty as me", she winked at him, "Skin like sandpaper, flesh gone from around his mouth so one can see his gums, and one eye stitched shut? I call him Cyclops. Seen him?".

"No, I'm afraid not", Donnelly had to admit.

"Probably better if you don't", Rayne pointed out, "I sure as hell don't know what he's doing here, but he's in a _bad_ mood. He's the one who gave me _this_".

She delicately touched the deep scar on the left side of her face.

"I'm sorry", the cop uttered.

"Don't be", she grinned again, "I went after him _looking_ for a fight. It was great. Had to DIY it for awhile once it was over".

"Uh...", for the first time in a long time, Donnelly was speechless.

"Look, sexy", the much older creature mentioned as she walked back towards him, "I'm having a lot of fun in Raccoon City just now, so the only thing to...".

She was interrupted with a moan emanating from within the makeshift blockade. They both looked in that direction, and spotted a zombie as it crawled over one of the disused cars, before the zombie first inched towards them on its hands and knees, and then rose on its feet. It began staggering towards them both, leading to Rayne to grunt in annoyance at the disturbance.

"You've got _some_ nerve!", she snapped while marching towards the direction that the zombie was coming from, before meeting it halfway, "I'm trying to have a conversation with my new friend, and _this_ is what you do?".

She reached the monster and snapped its neck without much effort, letting its corpse collapse on the ground, and returning to where Donnelly stood, waiting, and still amazed at her relaxed demeanour throughout.

"You know, a week ago, I would've been shocked to see you", the cop finally uttered, "But not now".

"Glad to entertain", Rayne kept her grinning face on his as she gave a mock bow, bending her knees and spreading her arms wide on either side of her shoulders, before she returned to her full height.

"Look, you can help us", the officer added while the two of them faced each other, "We could use someone with your strength. We have a van full of citizens, and even a box of dogs, who need to be evacuated".

"I'm sorry, hon", she replied in a serious tone again, knowing she was giving him bad news, "I don't get involved in human affairs. Vampire affairs are complicated enough. My mind's not going to change on that".

"But...", he began to protest, and stopped when she placed her right index finger on his lips.

"I like you", Rayne admitted while withdrawing her finger away from his face, "If you survive this, then I'd like you to go to Grandville. That's the nearest city to yours, and look me up at the city's late-night clubs there, and maybe we'll meet again, under better circumstances".

"So that's your plan?", Donnelly disputed, though strongly suspecting he wasn't going to change her mind, "The world goes to shit, and you just run away from it and leave others?".

"Look, hon", the vampire explained, "I plan to be in your formerly beautiful town till it's not fun any more, and then I'll be using a certain jetpack that I 'borrowed' from the military years ago to leave this place. I expect Raccoon City won't last much longer. I know enough about how humans and their governments work to know what the ultimate solution to this predicament is".

She breathed in and out, disliking the disappointed expression he had on his face.

"I would advise you to get out of this city too", Rayne added, "As quickly as possible. Don't be a boyscout, or whatever you humans call it in this day and age, and just get out, before your city gets swallowed whole with you in it".

"I'm sorry I can't change your mind", Donnelly strengthened the grip on his Beretta, knowing he would have to return to his colleagues very soon, "Thanks for the advice, though, I'll probably end up taking it".

"Good luck, hon", she reached forth and kissed him on the cheek, "For good luck".

"To both of us", the cop nodded once as he walked away from the inhuman creature and began proceeding back to the RPD van.

That left the lady who was dressed in tights alone to return to where her bottle of vodka waited on the hood of a car, and she picked up the glass container again, watching the cop leave.

"Tell me this", the young man spoke up while getting further away, and caused her to wait for his request, "You ever turn anyone?".

"You mean into a vamp?", she spelled out, prompting him to nod his head several times.

She laughed at his question.

"No, sweetie", Rayne clarified, "Me turning a human into one of my kind would be the equivalent of you turning a cat into a human".

"Got it", he understood as he came closer to his awaiting vehicle.

"Besides, I wouldn't wish the life of a vampire on my worst enemy", she added after a moment of silence.

The cop didn't know if she was being serious or sarcastic, but just now, he couldn't afford more time to extend his conversation with her, unfortunately. Not when the van behind him honked its horn yet again, impatiently waiting for him to return.

The appealing smile returned to her face, the vampire acquiring an idea. She marched towards him, appearing excited at the thought in her mind. Reaching Donnelly's standing position, she gripped his face with both hands and planted an adoring kiss on his lips, before parting her face from his.

"This is a one-off, you understand, handsome", she whispered to him before walking away from the cop, and jogging to the makeshift barricade that had been blocking the RPD van.

Reaching the base of the twenty-foot high wall of metal, wood and stone, the vampire leaned backwards on her left foot, and sent a right kick into the bottom of the barricade. The underside of her right high heel smashed into the barrier, breaking the seemingly immobile vertical hurdle, before it broke into hundreds of pieces, small and big portions of the blockade raining all around her, including two disused cars that crashed on the ground.

Rayne turned around, cheerfully giving Donnelly two thumbs-up signals with her hands, as she walked away from the wreck she had created, and the opening in the road that was now possible for the RPD van to go through.

"Grandville!", the vampire reminded the cop as she proceeded away from him, "You better look me up!".

Amazed at her abilities, the officer nodded in agreement, before watching her leap into the air, displaying an unnatural acrobatic ability. She quickly disappeared through a broken window on the fourth-floor of a nearby apartment building, leaving the young man alone in the street below, with Donnelly now wondering how he was going to explain the destruction of the barricade to his colleagues.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-


	71. Chapter 61 The Walking, Talking Dead

Shakahnna Warren gasped while waking up, the redhead finding herself lying on her left side as she next sat up painfully.

Looking around, she saw that much of her RPD uniform was torn due to bite marks, both her blood and that of her attackers covering her shirt and trousers. She instinctively looked for her department-issue Beretta, and then remembered that the weapon was empty. After all, she had emptied the entire clip on the last wave of monsters who had been converging on the last three survivors at Raccoon General Hospital, before using her mystical shields to protect those two men and one woman, till she was overcome herself.

The last sound in her ears was that of the last three of the fourteen survivors being ripped apart by the seemingly endless horde of zombies, as she herself was killed by the monsters.

Sitting up on the bloodied floor, Shakahnna laughed out loud, surrounded by the bodies of the fourteen survivors she had led to the hospital, in addition to the approximately three dozen zombies who were also dead. She kept laughing for several moments, before she spat out blood, the projectile crimson bursting out of her mouth and spilling on the floor several feet away.

The rookie cop struggled to stand up, slipping on the spilled blood beneath her feet, before she maintained her balance. She saw the Beretta pistol nearby, and was so distressed at having been resurrected after her latest death that she ignored it, walking past the weapon and staggering towards the hospital exit. Appearing not unlike the zombies that she had been incapacitating all night, she reached the door, and stepped out of it, greeting the warm breeze outside, though she barely noticed it.

Once in the hospital parking lot, Shakahnna began proceeding towards the RPD headquarters, though she didn't fully remember how far that was. Hoping she recalled the directions to the main Police base correctly, a distant part of her mind thought that she should've known better than to lead the fourteen survivors into Raccoon General Hospital, as they had seen that the shutters weren't even down over the first-floor windows. That should've been an indication that the hospital and its staff didn't even have the chance to bring the security doors down after the outbreak, and that the building was fully infested due to hundreds of infected people having been ill there earlier.

The result was that Raccoon General Hospital was the most dangerous part of the entire city, ironically, and she and her fourteen followers were quickly overwhelmed once in the lobby. Any retreat had been made impossible very rapidly, and the rookie cop had died along with everyone else, only to return to life.

She wasn't sure what she was thinking at the moment, staggering further away from the infested hospital behind her, and ignoring the handful of zombies that walked towards her. Instead, she had an image of finding her boyfriend at the RPD, and things had to improve then. She needed to be with him, the pain so bad she couldn't stop from crying. Big wet streaks running down her face, wondering if she had been infected or maybe coming back to life had a certain allocation and she was close now to zero. Dead forever and never coming back, spitting another ball of bloodied flem from between her lips.

Shakahnna forced herself further, gently pushing away a zombie that tried to reach her.

Surely, things at the RPD would be better. They had to be.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Somewhere in the back of Jill Valentine's mind, she cursed the person who had designed the tube top she was wearing. The blue fabric itched continuously, aggravating her further as she was currently having an argument with a man who was about a decade older than her.

A short while ago, the RPD officer and her female companion had spotted what the latter insisted wasn't real, the civilian going on and on about how it was a mirage because such a miracle couldn't exist where they were. Fortunately for her, Valentine had gripped the pink-dressed blonde woman with the shoulder-length hair by her wrist and dragged her to the location that was about half a mile away, where they had seen a transport helicopter seemingly landing.

Keeping her left fingers wrapped around the civilians wrist, and her right grip on the handle of her Samurai Edge, the cop kept proceeding towards the spot, knowing that what her follower said couldn't be true. Clearly suffering from exhaustion and panic, and probably dehydration too, the blonde woman insisted that God no longer existed and thus an event such as a helicopter ride out of here couldn't happen. She repeated that it had to be a mirage, and that she and Valentine had both been delirious about the same thing, and tried to pull away from the brunette's grip.

She was ignored, Valentine dragging her several streets as she protested, the cop knowing that what they had seen was no hallucination, but hoping that she wouldn't come up against resistance when it came to putting her companion into the chopper. After all, the helicopter could've been there to evacuate people who were deemed to be more valuable than others by whatever idiot was in charge somewhere, with more expendable individuals like herself and the civilian being told to just die. If that had happened, then the STARS officer wondered if she was ready for a stand-off against several other people, who would've been most likely armed, when she had no one providing support for herself.

Fortunately, the pair reached a parking lot, and a large helicopter with two guards armed with automatic assault rifles was indeed there. The brunette momentarily wondered what the acronym UBCS stood for, but had to ignore that thought, guessing that any place that machine was flying to would've been better than where they were now.

The good news was that the two male guards who were about her age quickly ushered the two women towards the helicopter, seemingly willing to give them a ride out of here. One of the sentries also took his position among the evacuees inside the chopper, his job apparently being one where he was to escort the civilians to safety, while the other soldier remained outside.

The bad news was that the pilot pointed out that they were too heavy to fly with both women, and only one of them could get on. That caused the civilian in pink to lock eyes with Valentine, and the former burst into tears when the cop smirked, courteously bowed her torso forward, pressing the handgun against her own stomach, while pointing into the inside of the machine with her free hand. The officer's companion wasn't taking her up on the invitation, though, as the blonde woman sobbed further and hugged Valentine as tightly as she could. She eventually separated from the brunette at the cop's friendly insistence, being told that the helicopter had to leave but Valentine promising that they would see each other again.

The civilian separated her torso from Valentine's frame, but kept her two hands gripping the cop's shoulders as the two woman stared at each other. Still crying, the blonde female energetically shook her head, refusing to leave without her friend, and causing protests to be heard from the male guard who was impatiently waiting to escort the approximately forty people out. So Valentine inhaled as she holstered her handgun, held her breath, and proceeded to pick her companion up. Placing her left hand underneath the blonde woman's back, and her right behind the latter's knees, she carried her to the helicopter and placed her into the last free seat. It was amid her further protests that the sentry used the seatbelt to fasten the woman in pink to her chair. Then, still on his feet, he gave the go-ahead sign to the pilot by pointing his right index finger towards the helicopter ceiling and made the gesture of a circle with it.

Which led to the pilot protesting, saying something about how he still wasn't flying if the mutt was there.

And that had led Valentine to the situation she was in now, having a verbal argument with a man who was several years her senior, while he remained seated in the cockpit, and she was on her feet outside of the helicopter. Her face being only two feet away from his, separated via the clear glass, she bit her tongue while ignoring the annoying itch that the blue tube top was causing her to feel, while repeatedly using her free hands to make sure that damn black miniskirt wasn't too high around her hips.

Sighs were heard from the two younger UBCS men, both the one in the helicopter and the one outside of it, in addition to moans of exhaustion and a couple of civilians who were desperate to leave crying. She screamed at the pilot, and he yelled back at the cop, the topic of their argument being that he refused to fly due to one of the boys in the chopper refusing to let go of his Dalmatian puppy, the young canine nervously sitting in its owner's lap as the heated debate continued.

"Lady, I _told_ you!", the pilot protested further, "Orders are clear! No goddamn animals!".

"For pete's sake, it's only a tiny thing!", she griped, "Give the kind a break!".

"ORDERS ARE FUCKING ORDERS!", he barked back at her, before looking over his shoulder addressing his two colleagues in a calmer fashion, "Guys, get the mutt outta here already!".

He turned his attention back in front, and saw Valentine pointing her RPD badge and STARS identification at him through the glass.

"Do what I say", she evenly commanded.

Too bad he only scoffed at her action.

"Toots, whatever authority you _think_ you had disappeared the minute the freaks showed up", he calmly replied, before looking over his shoulder again, "Is the mutt out of my chopper yet?".

"Then you _really_ want to argue with me and delay this evac over one animal?", she questioned, putting her badge and identification away.

He locked eyes with her through the glass, and she heard him moan to himself, before he finally sighed and started the engine, readying to fly vertically up.

Valentine stepped away from the ever-increasing speed of the rotorblades, as did the second UBCS guard, and the brunette smiled at the blonde woman in pink who was still keeping her gaze on the cop. The brunette waved as the helicopter was airborne, and her companion waved back as she was lifted up into the air.

"I'LL SEE YOU AGAIN!", the officer yelled out as the chopper rose higher into the sky, and quickly ascended, before flying towards its destination.

It was only when the noise and wind from the machine was distant that Valentine heard herself swearing.

"What's the matter?", the UBCS guard who had remained behind asked, walking casually towards her while his assault rifle remained in his hands.

"Just occurred to me that I never got her name", the brunette thought out loud.

"Oh, well, that sucks", he sniggered, appearing a bit too relaxed for the environment he was in, "Anyway, come on there, brave little lady. You shouldn't stay out here by your lonesome. Ricky there, that's the pilot you like so much, won't be back for another hour".

"What do you propose we do _till_ then?", Valentine asked while withdrawing her handgun and checking to ensure that it was full of ammunition, not noticing that the smirk on his face widened when he heard her question.

"I got some friends of mine we should go meet", the young man quickly suggested in a more serious tone when she looked into his face again, "Assuming you want some company, that is".

"Being with them beats being alone for you?", she inquired while they were facing each other.

"Mikhail and Nicholai are good men, yeah", he stated "They're heading a platoon not far from here, canvassing the city for survivors to bring to evac positions".

"Then lead the way", she pointed out of this parking lot with her free hand, and he did, marching ahead of her, weapon at the ready.

"Name's Carlos, by the way", he pointed his free right hand in her direction for an instant, "Carlos Oliveira".

"Good to make your acquaintance", she shook his hand as they headed out into the darkness, "Jill Valentine".

"_Pleasure_", the smiling young man almost purred as they continued walking ahead.

"So where did that thing with my nameless friend in it go?", the cop asked while pointing towards the sky with her free hand.

"Helicopter's headed to Grandville", the guard explained, visually inspecting the area around them, "When their mayor got news of the federal efforts in your city, he insisted that his city be used to house the refugees. Quite a swell guy, he was. He actually spoke to us before we lifted out of Grandville to come here".

It was only then that she noticed the Umbrella symbol on the back of his jacket, above the letters UBCS again.

At another time and another place, there would've been room for tact.

Oliveira wasn't sure whether to talk about what was bothering him about all the death and carnage he'd witnessed so far, or to let his mind wander with the attractive woman he just came across. Surely, if this did turn out to be the last night that they were alive, was there a possibility she was thinking the same as him?

He smirked. Not like the lack of condoms would've been a problem if this was their last night alive.

His smirk faded when he felt the barrel of her Samurai Edge pressing against the side of his skull. Something about the pressure she was using to push the weapon against his head, and the resolute indignation he could see on her face out of the corner of his eye, quickly told him she wasn't feeling flirty.

"Now, Carlos", Valentine mentioned while keeping her weapon against his skull while the pair stopped walking, "You _seem_ like a nice guy, and I just saw you do something quite noble by staying behind. Those are the only reasons I'm still talking to you instead of putting a bullet in your head, got it?".

"Uh, yeah, yeahyeahyeah", he quickly nodded his head, knowing very well that he had no chance of using his assault rifle against her before she pulled the trigger, and the tone of her voice indicated she would do just that if he tried to fight back, "Um, look, if you're not into having some fun just now, or if you don't drive stick, I get it. It's cool. If blondie was your girlfriend back there, I didn't mean to...".

"What?", she interrupted, "Shut up!".

She reached forth and took the assault rifle out of his hands, dropping the larger weapon on the ground as she kept her handgun aimed at his head.

"Now, just be a good boy and tell me what the _fuck_ Umbrella is doing here", Valentine ordered.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"It's not going too badly, darling", Brian Irons put a strained smile on his face while keeping his sidearm in his right grip, aimed at the floor, "With any luck, we can keep holding on to this building as a safe haven till help arrives".

While having been physically tired a few hours ago, to the point where his body stopped aching some time back and he was operating his limbs without paying attention to their discomfort any more, he felt that all this strain was still worth it. Speaking to Joanne Warren, the middle-aged Police chief reassured her that he and the rest of the officers were gaining the upper hand against the monsters. She gave him a beautiful smile while she was seated on his desk, and breathed a sigh of relief while placing her criss-crossed palms over her own heart.

"Thank you, Brian", the blonde woman who was in her early 20's replied, "Can't tell you how good it feels to hear that".

"Having you be safe and sound makes this all worth it, believe me", he smiled back, feeling relieved himself once he knew she was alright.

"Sooo...", Joanne grinned while lowering her arms by her sides and placing her palms on the surface of the desk, "How long do you reckon before this nightmare is over and we're going back to normal in Raccoon City? I can't wait to meet up with my friends for cappuccino again and tell them all about this, and about how brave you were".

"Just doing my job, Joanne, honey", he chuckled while approaching her seated position on his desk, "But we don't know _when_ this will all clear up. Till then, I need you to stay here until we get the all-clear from outside".

He was expecting her to say something that was nice to hear, instead he only received a cacophony of noise pollution as a woman's voice almost screamed to get his attention from the left.

Irons' eyes snapped open and shut several times, the chief feeling surprised as Joanne disappeared from the view in front of him. He turned his face to the left, and saw that she had re-appeared there, standing next to the metal table that was on the side of the office opposite that of his desk. Having previously been sitting on one of the two chairs that were around the table, Joanne had gotten increasingly worried over the last few minutes, and became even more alarmed when Irons returned to his office just now.

That was because the older man had started talking to no one in particular while addressing the area around his desk, ignoring Joanne while she tried to speak to him, and noticed that he didn't seem to hear her. She eventually panicked so much that she stood from the chair and approached him, raising her voice to get his attention. He finally seemed to hear her, turning his face in her direction, though appearing surprised that she was standing next to him, fear obvious on her features.

"Sorry, uncle Brian", the younger woman mentioned in a regular tone while clutching the handgun that officer Warren had given her before leaving her here, "You just didn't seem to hear me. Are you OK?".

"Yes, yes, of course", he shook his head, looking at her, seeming surprised again at her appearance, and then staring at his empty desk, and then back at her again, "Why do you ask?".

"What was all that screaming downstairs?", Joanne inquired next, "And the shooting? Is it getting worse?".

She guessed that the situation wasn't improving while more yells and gunfire were emanating from the lobby downstairs, but even that horrible situation suddenly didn't appear as worrying as what she was looking at now. Rather than give her a quick report of the situation, whether good or bad, Irons smiled at her again, causing the nervous woman to wonder what he was so happy about.

He turned his attention back to his desk, and began talking about plans to one day spend a relaxing afternoon being introduced to her friends at one of the city's many espresso bars, assuming her young friends wouldn't mind being seen alongside someone of his age.

Joanne went from nervous to fully scared while watching the older man speak to no one in particular about how this event caused him to appreciate his life and the people that he loved. She watched him waiting for several seconds, and then continuing the conversation with the person who wasn't on his desk, going on about how it was very nice of Joanne to insist that he was the best part of her life whether her friends liked it or not.

The alarmed young woman swallowed a lump in her throat, not being able to figure out what was happening to the Police chief, but further yells from outside this office told her that whatever safety she may have had here was probably gone.

Leaving the older man to continue his delusional conversation with the desk, the blonde woman tensed her right fingers around the grip of the handgun and slowly walked out of the office. She had to tell someone about how the chief wasn't acting right, and maybe other officers here would be able to help.

Sneaking out of the office and closing the door behind her, she proceeded towards the right of the second-floor corridor she was in, past the office that belonged to Irons' secretary. Hearing the gunfire and panic from the lobby with even more clarity, she was breathing with difficulty while proceeding past the hardwood floor.

She stopped when she finally saw an officer at the end of this particular hallway, about thirty yards ahead, as the older uniformed man was coming towards her and passing a row of closed windows that looked out into the night air. She remembered this man's name being George Scott, as officer Scott had been sporadically visiting Irons' office all night to give reports about how things were going in the lobby. Alongside receiving new orders from the chief, Scott had been nice enough to ask the blonde woman earlier if there was anything she needed, and when she thanked him for the offer and said there wasn't, he had asked that she let him know if she changed her mind.

"George!", she waved towards him with her free left hand, "Thank God!".

"What's the matter, Joanne?", the older cop asked while the two individuals were walking towards each other.

"I need to talk to you! It's, well it's about Uncle Brian...", Joanne told him as the distance between them became shorter.

"What about the...", was all the man got to utter before glass exploded into the corridor via the windows from outside.

The cop screamed and withdrew his handgun as several dozen crows flew into the hallway, mercilessly pecking at his head and torso as they swarmed around him. He fired his weapon blindly as blood appeared on him while the infected animals didn't slow their attacks. Despite his efforts, it only took the onslaught of crows a few seconds to use their beaks to gouge out his eyes and tear at the veins in his arms and neck, causing Scott to collapse on the floor amid his own blood.

Joanne screamed in horror as the armada of aggressive crows continued eating at the male cop's corpse, the scene in front of her appearing as if a large black cloud was hovering over Scott's remains. A distant part of her mind told her to not make so much noise, unless she wanted to risk the monsters to notice her too, so she used her left palm to forcefully shut her own mouth.

Unfortunately, it was too late as half the crows who were feasting on the older man's carcass quickly flew towards her, attacking her in turn. She raised the weapon and had enough time to fire one bullet into the flying mass of black feathers that angrily sped in her direction. She managed to kill one of the crows before dozens of others ripped into her flesh with their beaks, and Joanne only had time for one more scream before she was mauled as quickly and efficiently as the cop had been.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It didn't matter to him that he found her dying body only a few yards away from George Scott's remains, not caring about the dead cop as he carried her bloodied form back to his office and let her rest on the surface of the desk.

Standing next to the desk on which she was lying, Brian Irons was addressing Joanne Warren as he held her hand, not paying attention to the bedlam taking place downstairs.

"I've always wanted to protect you", he told her while she was looking back at him as she lay on her back on his desk, "I couldn't imagine it if anything happened to the most important person in my life".

"Brian, it's OK", she reassured him with a smile that immediately made him feel better, "I'm not going anywhere, thanks to you".

"I love you more than anything, darling", the chief added.

"I love you too, Brian", Joanne told him back.

"You know I'd never hurt you, right?", he asked next while still holding her right hand in his left grip, "My sole objective here tonight has been to protect you".

"Of course I know that", she replied while keeping her eyes locked with him, "What a silly question. Brian, I'm not saying I'm not frightened over all the crazy things happening here, but if we go, then we go together, you and me. You're here with me, and nothing else matters".

"We need to make sure you survive, Joanne, darling", the older man continued, infinitely happy that she was reciprocating his feelings, "As you said, nothing matters except you and I making it out of here. Everything else is a distant second".

"Then lead and I'll follow you", the blonde woman assured him, "You're the only one I've ever trusted, you know that. I'm not scared, even here, if you're going to protect me".

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The male RPD officer walked into the chief's office due to being concerned as neither her, nor any of his colleagues downstairs, had seen Brian Irons for some time. The worry was that the Police chief may have been distracted away from the safe haven that was being attempted to be maintained in the lobby, and maybe was attacked by a zombie elsewhere in the building.

Thinking that Irons most likely was not in his office, but wanting to check that area to rule out in his search for the chief, the cop walked into the office without knocking on the closed door leading to it.

"Oh, Jesus!", the younger man exclaimed as he saw that the chief was face-down on the office desk, seemingly having sex with a blonde woman in a white dress who was underneath him, while she was lying on the desk on her back.

Irons only continued his intercourse with the woman, not even seeming to notice that the officer had barged into the large room.

"Sir, I mean, excuse me", the cop uttered, "I didn't mean to intrude".

He walked backwards and out of the office before beginning to close the door behind himself, telling himself that surely this wasn't the right time to be doing what the chief was doing. Even if they were all fighting nonstop, it was no excuse to let the chief's mind wander around an attractive woman he came across. It was unprofessional of him considering that the last of them were looking towards him to be their leader and instead he was balls deep in some slut. A wave of anger and indignation coming in place of the discomfort that he felt.

But just before he was finished closing the door to give Irons and the blonde woman privacy, the cop noticed that the young female underneath the chief was covered in blood. In fact, he paid close attention to her closed eyes and the way she wasn't moving, and soon realized that she was dead. He gasped at the recognition he made.

It was when the office gasped that Irons turned his own face towards the younger cop who stood near the office doorway. A mixture of anger for being interrupted and a desire to protect Joanne prompted the middle-aged man to reach for his sidearm while his predatory eyes were now locked on the younger man's face.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Dumbass Ed!", Irons returned to the sanctuary of his office and updated Joanne about what had happened.

Sitting on the edge of the desk where the blonde woman was lying on her back, he rested his firearm near her feet, while haphazardly drying the blood from both his hands on his trousers.

"Maybe now he'll think twice about walking in on us like a moron and interrupting our time together", he told her, "But you won't _believe_ how long he took to die after I popped two rounds into his heart. I mean, my time _is_ precious, right, darling?".

"Of course it is, Brian", the young lady stated from her horizontal position next to him, "Your time is _our_ time together".

"They're all the same", he angrily told her next, "They're all jealous of what we have. That's why that dumbass Ed hurt you, didn't he?".

"Yes, he did,", Joanne confirmed, nodding her head vigorously "You did the right thing by killing him for my honour".

"I can't trust _any_ of them any more", the older man continued ranting to himself while staring at the office wall now, "I think they all have to die if I'm going to be able to protect you, darling. I need to do _something_ to keep you safe from harm".

She didn't respond this time, only letting him think further to himself as he looked at the beautiful woman next to him. He next visually inspected the painting on the wall that led to the elevator leading from this office to the taxidermy basement that the chief had built, and smiled to himself.


End file.
